# Destroyer of Worlds; Xenos Action Thread



## Vaz (Mar 19, 2008)

Ragnaross V, Ragnell system. 2 weeks after the beginning of Abbadons 13th Black Crusade.​It wasnt a particularly large, or important system, but it was the perfect foothold for Azdrubael's war on the Imperium, and with that fool Abbadon drawing so much attention, he would have several weeks to setablish his foothold before moving on to the next system, aimed at the Gothic Sector. granted, cyprus Mundi and Mordian would be problematic, but he would crush them nonetheless. From the Gothic sector, the lines of resistance would be much less tested then those in Abbadons path, for the 13th time, HE would be the one to rip the Emperors rotting corpse from the throne, and HE would be the one to crush the Imperium under his boot, not that fool Abbadon.

------2 weeks later, Ragnar City------

The Arbites officer looked up at the sky through the blasted ceiling of the Precinct Office, they had gotten a message through, but wouyld anyone hear their call? A scarved heretic fired a round into the officers gut, then stepped back to watch him die a slow and painful death. The officer layed back jis head, and looked to the sky, and began to pray the litany of pennance for his sin of failure, the Enemy had taken the planet, enslaved or killed the people, and him, his precinct, the whole planet had failed before the Emperor. The Heretic swiftly kicked him in the side for his prayer, sending a spurt of blood out of both his mouth, and gaping chest wound; he arched his back in pain, but then he saw something miraculous... Fire.
"Emperor be praised!" he managed before the heretic looked up as well.
"Lord Azdurbael..." he began, but that was all the officer heard, before an unseen force removed his head.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Something was off, but that was easy enough to tell, the drop pod had struck another as soon as it was fied from the barge. Tehy would be severly scattered at best, destroyed at worst.
"Chapter Master Andronus, are you sure of your intelligence? even for a full chapter, destroying an entire warband could prove difficult. and attempting to deploy directly to the location of their leadership, they will have the upper hand to say the least, and we will not be cohesive upon deployment" Cassius checked the tactical display, to see hundreds of Valkyries and Thunderhawks all re-organizing their formations at random, and altering trajecteries, Chaos had tainted the Machine spirits enough to change which Landing Zones each transport was headed to, but not outside of that, it seemed; that, and collide the vessels it seemed, ats two Valkeries rammed each other at full speed. This trickery, combined with the usual losses of such an aggressive tactic would however, still leave the force within striking distance of the warbands leadership. Looking at their destination, it seemed 4 Valkeries, several drop-pods, and a sororitas Thunderhawk would reach it mostly in tact... unfortuanately, it was on the outer edge of the city, and they would have to fight all the way to the center of the city to reach the Warmasters, mist likely.
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A webway portal opened up about two miles from the edge of the city, and a moderate sized Eldar Warband began to emerge. The farseer was speaking with his Rangers as they stepped through
"Yes, I realize the humans are here, and that they may well get in our way... but I have forseen that if we do not stop him here, he _will_ reach the artifact, and he _will_ find an entrance to the webway if we do not stop him. We will deal with the other humans in good time, but the Chaos worshippers must be stopped here."
"Very well, what is our course of action then?" one of the Ranger exarchs replied
"We will move just ahead of the main force, and stay at the forefront when it catches up to us, we move for the city as soon as the rest of the Warhost has arrived"
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Boss Spinebreak looked at his fleet in space, da 'Umies were havin all da fightin up 'ere... but that waz o.k. by him, cuz alla his boyz was gonna get to the city where the fight was gonna be sooner, an there would be more'uv'em then if da Chaos boyz had been der to try an' slow'em down, an now dey waz gonna win even quicka' on account uv there bein so many boys in da fight.
"GROOOTS!!!!!" he shouted "Get my Flya ready, I'z gonna go down ta where all da fightin is!!!!!!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- in short, Ragnar city is hell, now let loose the hounds of war, you glorious bastards!!!
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The pod slammed into the griund at the same time as the rest of the forces in this particular LZ. A dreadnaught came out of one, the rest contained Space Marines, mostly from Andronus' chapter. out of the three Valkeries that had made it, poured the guardsmen, mostly Cadians, but a few others as well. The Sorroritas Thunderhawk made a rough crash landing, and only 3 squads of Seaphim and a tactical squad made it out in one peice, the tacticals just barely. As the Imperium forces exited their transports, the Heretics sprung their trap, appearing out of the rubble and puring fire into the landing zone.
ooc: this is official GM officail background post, dont use it


The Old Ones had enjoyed their games of cat and mouse, as race fought race for dominance, but then their plans had been ruined by the Necrontyr, with their discovery of the Star Gods. The War in heaven had decimated them, and it was down to the Eldar to defeat them, once the Enslaver plague had begun, and driven the Old Ones away. Since that day, the gods of the different races had formed - The Eldar, fairest and noblest of purpose of all were the strongest, but they had their weaknesses. The Fall happened, and Slaanesh was born. The Orks, brutal, and simple minded as an animal as they were, lived only to fight. Where there was fighting, there was always Orks. The Tau were a new race, seemingly hidden from the eyes of Man, Eldar and Ork, or maybe they were so fledgling in their power, they were deemed little or no risk. It proved to be a mistake.

So the Gods fought, unable to war physicaly, but through their devotees, they found wilful subjects. Philosophy over religion, although that philosophical argument soon became a religious tenat for the Tau Empire, and their Greater Good.

And so, through the millenia, the factions warred. Neither backed down, Neither fully able to defeat the other, cat and mouse, although the mouse fought, with its back against the wall. As more and more races became embroiled in this conflict, it seems strange that such a small world, such as Ragnaross V would become the scene of a bitter struggle, that would decide the fate of such a faction. As the predators moved in on the battle, the question remained on the minds of those involved, and even of those predators, which side would they join?


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## Trevor Drake (Oct 25, 2008)

Ragnaross V gleamed from the observation deck of Veachts cruiser, and already he could taste the bloodshed and unleashing of souls benath him, his lips wet with anticipation. From his stealthed warship he watched as the great bricks of the mon-keigh unleashed their loads like an oyster opening its shell so that its succulant throat was exposed. He strode gracefully to the great eddiface within the cruiser, as it crackled with ancient energies, opening a portal, while deep underground on Ragnaross an ancient portal gate gleamed with power. Around him his deathly loyal warriors bayed for blood.

"Now is the time my brothers. The beast has reared its head, and in doing so revealed its throat. Let us begone, and begin our task. I can feel the great prince baying in my mind, begging for souls. Let us take these fools and offer them to the great devourer lest we become its next meal."

Around him the dark ones nodded, their lust for battle growing, while their understand that if they failed in their mission here, it would be their souls fed to their master. It was with this that then strode through the great portal, instantly rematerializing upon the surface.
------------------------------------------
The piratical band emerged from beneath the ruins, surveying the field before them. Already it seemed the great war had begun. They could feel that other servants of the Dark Prince were here, yet while they could be usefull, they were not but pawns to be used to further their gains. After all, better the twisted minions of the Dark Prince be slaughtered to sate his hunger rather than his own children. Veacht opened his fists, a handle protruding from his gauntlets, while the blades that lined his forearms slid out into place, forming the sacred blades that were coveted by his former Archon before Veacht tore out his throat.

"Ah my beauties, i feel your need for blood, and your hunger is but a reflection of my own. Let us slay these fools so that you may be sated."

He looked up from his blades and to his brothers. The sky was dark, and had he not been looking for their glowing eyes he would have not seen them.

"Let us take to our hearts desire. Pillage every building, use them to fufill all of your pleasures, make them feel the pleasure that we cherish, then rip it from them before it grows stale...."

[ooc: hope this isnt over the top for yall ^^ ]


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Far above the floating blue and green orb of Ragnaross V the massive hulk of Gorfang Spinebreaka held its orbit. The ragged bridge of the hulk, filled with sweating orks and the stench of rotten detritus, was silent. All aboard knew that to interrupt da boss while he was 'finkin' was tantamount to a short trip out of the nearest air lock. Even the grots kept their squeaks and squeals to tiny chirps as they spoke back and forth to each other. Sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by his menacing nobs, Gorfang lounged lazily on his monstrous throne. Made from the bones of his enemies, the macabre chair was a pointed reminder to all who served the vicious warboss. Several bones had once been 'budding' bosses who thought they would have made a better leader. They had thought wrong. Of course, to an ork this meant little. Their race was not one of cowards. Warfare was a way of life. The better the fight, the better the life and Gorfang took it as a sign of respect that they'd foolishly attempted to kill him. Other bosses would think that those challengers had thought thim weak and unworthy, but not Gorfang. He was brutal and vicious and above all, cunning and insane. He knew it meant their hatred of him was all-consuming and hate was a good thing when it came to forging the perfect WAAAGH! Death was a constant companion to the orkoid race, but a companion the orks had little respect for. Death was the ultimate sign of weakness. If an ork died it was because he hadn't been strong enough. It proved that he was unworthy to carry the name 'ork' and while many under Gorfang died, many also lived.

Looking through the view screen the massive ork warboss could see many ships. Some he recognized and others he didn't. The blocky shapes of da marine gitz ships were easily recognized along with the dagger-like profiles of da kaos gitz. But, amongst the multitudes there were vessels that not even his 'silent companion' could identify. "Possible xeno origin... Eldar pirate. Class unknown. Compliment unknown. Fire power unknown" the tiny voice spoke into his brain.

Gorfang didn't really care about the minor details. The voice in his head had always been right and had aided him many times before in his battles. Gorfang was an ork and as long as he won that was enough for him. Victory for Gork and Mork was the only thing that really mattered. Of course if it came with a ded gud skrap it was even better. Violence and brutality were the orkish maxims of battle. "Kill 'em all an' den yooze da suvivaz as grot fodda." Ghazgkhull had once told his nobs during the first battle for Da Armageddin planet. 

The one perplexing thing was that when Gork and Mork spoke to him it was always in this tiny, female oomie voice. Had he been given to thinking, he might have wondered if the voice was some kind of punishment for his unorkiness. He'd been amongst the Blood Axes for too long and they'd started to rub off on him. Gorfang's Goff tendencies had erroded away in the constant strife of warfare and the ever present voice deep in his skull. Da Blood Axes fought their WAAAGH! differently from others. They followed the evil kunning of Mork more than da brutal smashin of Gork. Still, a gud skrap wuz a gud skrap. 

From beneath his iron gob a vicious smile cut it's way across Gorfang's scarred, brutal features. "Prepare da rokz", he roared as he flexed his mighty power klaw. "Itz time we show deez panzies dat da orkz iz da strongest!" The bridge exploded into action as orks and grots scrabbled to do their boss' bidding. Orders were conveyed into the bowels of the gigantic hulk through a series of crude, yet effective cobbled-together voxes and speakers along with a liberal application of boot leather and swift slaps to ensure the proper amount of fervor.

Gorfang stood, his 'eavy armor squeeling as metal plates ground together under his shifting muscular bulk. He snarled to his second in command, Zogsnag, as he made his way to the lift that would take him to his personal rok, his retinue of nobs in tow. "Yooz keep da ship til weez down. Den yaz leggit it to da surface wif da rest uv da ladz in da landaz. If yaz even fink 'bout tryin ta take ma ship 'r stabbin me in da bak, Iz kum bak an' kill yaz slow an' ugly. Ya gotz it?" Zogsnag nodded and replied "Yer boss!"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The massive roks hit the planet with the force of a mighty bomb. Storms of debris and detritus filled the skies as the orkish landing craft crashed into the world's surface. Through the haze and smoke, Gorfang strode from the darkness of the rok's hold into the blinding brightness of the sun-drenched valley. "Time fer killin" he snarled to himself as he waved his personal battlewagon over. They had landed outside of the city. Gorfang had done that on purpose. While the destruction wreaked by a rok was ded gud fun, crushing the city would have been counter-productive. As his wagon pulled up, Gorfang pondered on which gitz he'd smash first....


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## Kronus (Mar 1, 2008)

The all but dead imperial battle cruiser drifted unnoticed through the fire strewn orbit of Ragnaross V ponderously falling ever closer to planet below. None’s of it weapon systems online, no shields operational, in short it was just another floating hulk, posing no threat. The only sign of life was the lone sputtering engine slowly but surely driving the darkened vessel on. The fight for aerial supremacy seemed to by pass it, treating as just another piece of debris to avoid as it seemed to begin to free fall towards the ground below. Falling to the ground it hurtled past the battle engulfed Ragnar city and smashed with a sickening thud into a forest canopy to south east and gouged a 600ft trough of dirt, mud and fallen tree limbs before it came to a jarring halt.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sergeant Mellus of the 32nd Ragnarian Foot used his hand to signal his squad forward towards the downed vessel. They had been patrolling the area and were lucky the blasted hunk of junk hadn’t fallen on them.

As the reached the edge of the devestation around the dormant hulk they stopped momentarily to take in its size and look for any obvious signs of life. After 2 minutes of anxious waiting with no results Mellus assumed whoever was fool enough to have been in it when it crashed had almost certainly died. Even so he notified the Heavy Bolter to hang back and cover their advance as they worked their way through the uprooted foliage towards the crashed vessel proper. As they got within 50 yards a door seal suddenly jarred open and a half dead Ork with a broken club stepped out in a daze. A moment’s rapid fire and the dead Ork crumbled to the ground. Taking cover the awaited for more Orks but nothing came. Nodding to his 2IC Mellus asked:

“Got anything on the motion sensor”
“Nothing” though in truth the thing had been acting up so he couldn’t be certain

Satisfied it’s was a one off he waved them on towards the now open doorway when a he heard the string of beeps and his 2IC shout:

“We got contacts”
“How many?”
“10 or so. Coming straight for us from the ship”

Signalling his men to take positions covering the door the only needed to wait a moment before they poured out but training and the confined space turned the doorway into a fire funnel and only two managed more then a couple of steps before being gunned down like the peers. Growing in confidence with success he prepared to signal his men to consolidate into the ship proper when the beeping started again and his 2IC yell:

“By the God Emperor I don’t know what happened but I think we may have just woke the buggers up. Tracking several 100 signatures maybe more inbound.

It’s around this point the sane guardsmen would decide a tactical withdraw might be the wise idea and Sergeant Mellus was no mans fool.

“Right were falling back. Triple time it lads. The heavy bolter can provide us cover fire, now move it” and began to all but run back to where he came from his squad in his wake

Only the foolish and inexperience turned to look back as a wave of Orks swarmed after them, only sporadic fire from the emplaced heavy bolter slowing their advance. Needless to say they didn’t live long enough to scream as the squad’s brighter element retreated flat out towards the reassuring gunfire.

They were almost clear of the fallen foliage when the heavy bolter cut off abruptly only to be replaced by a piercing scream of immense pain and a sickening thump. Shouldering their weapons they crested the trough and ran into the trees only to momentarily freeze up too shocked to react. Hunched over the remains of the heavy bolter team’s mutilated corpses was what seemed like a nightmare. The thing had a huge alien skull for a face, beady read eyes and a necklace of grim looking skulls. In one hand a huge axe dripped ominously and in the other was the freshly severed head of the team’s loader. The creature seemed not to notice them looking intently as it were at the bloody head in its hands with worrying intensity. On top of that it seemed to be muttering to itself in same guttural tongue.

This impasse didn’t last long. The creature’s head whipped around and its neck seemed to cock sideways as though weighing them up before it let out a primal roar. Unsurprisingly the 5 remaining men of Squad 8 let rip with frag grenades and rapid las fire. When the smoke and debris cleared the creature was gone.

“Did we kill it Sarge”
“I don’t know”

Another voice suddenly chipped in

“Where are all the Orks, we should be knee deep in them”

A chilling thought passed through the unit. What on earth would stop a hundred Orks from running down a fleeing enemy? What the hell was that thing? Mellus spoke up

“Eyes up, look sharp. I have a bad feeling we didn’t kill that thing. Got anything on the motion sensor”

The 2IC waved it around but the readings were confused and made no sense then it suddenly pinged and he looked up fear spread across his face

“Oh Cr……

As Rotfug cleaved the guardsmen in two, he didn’t need to here the thuds to know that two blades he had sent flying throw the air as he leapt out of the tree above them had hit the mark. As the 2IC fell another feebly gripped a blade lodged in his eyes before sinking to the ground dead and a thirds head fell to one side hanging by a tendon and some skin. By the time the sarge had turned to face him and pull his trigger the Ork had somehow grabbed the last surviving member of his squad and used as a human shield before reaching out grapping the end of his las rifle and with worrying ease bent pulled the barrel right out of the stock. He then heard a manic laugh as the Ork seized him by the throat lifting him bodily and threw him in a heap to the ground. Before he could pick himself up he felt himself pinned by a large bare foot across his back, its long sharp nails digging into his flesh and heard a low guttural voice full of glee whisper in his right ear

“Now now Oomie, Maulrippers been sated, Khorne got h’is skulls, Shazeni though she hungry for screams and uoz going to give em”

Mellus screamed unbelievable pain as the Ork begun to carve symbols into him with the pale blade and shouted:

“Sing Oomie, Sing for Shazeni”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The others knew better then to disrupt one of the Da Sneaky Daemons hunts. Once he marked something as prey he would punish any Ork who harmed them. The Feral Ork Warboss had changed 3 times since Rotfug herded them onto the vessel and countless numbers of Orks had died on route as he stalked the ships sublevels to pass the time. It was not as though he would simply just kill, some of the things he seemed to do were just unorky. To the primitive feral Orks of the Blacktoof tribe Rotfug was a force of nature, a living personification of Gork and Mork, both good at fighting and cunning and not to be messed with. The shaman seem to suggest that Da Sneaky Daemon would slay them all if they didn’t do as they were told.

The tribe gathered while the daemon continued his bloody work. Only 12000 of the 40,000 originally had survived planet fall but the numbers would soon mutiply and they would serve for now. Madgob wanted an area secured for his arrival. Usually he wouldn’t bother with such generic tasks but then he was been paid through the nose and more importantly there should be more then enough hunting to keep him busy for the while. Soon he would seek out greater prey but after so long cooped up with nothing but other Orks to hunt he was restless for any kind of sport. Even the paltry guardsmen had been moderately entertaining

Barking a few commands to the recently appointed Chief of the Blacktoof tribe, the tribe quickly mustered and swarmed towards where Rotfug has seen the spaceport on his arrival while Rotfug disappeared into the trees in a cloud of dust


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

The valley was filled with the coughing sound of poorly-tuned engines and the crack of weapon's fire as the orks poured from the roks situated across the once verdant plain; happy to finally be free of the dark confines of their ships. Smoke belched into the sky as drivers revved their motley collection of trukks and wagons and speedaz. No two vehicles looked alike. Ork mekaniks rarely reproduced the same work when creating a new instrument of warfare. Given the limitations of what they had to work with on hand, their creations only had to fit whatever specifications that skittered around the open corridors of their dark minds. The stench of poor-grade petrol overrode even the foul smell coming from the heaving tide of unwashed greenskins, saturating the morning air with its heady fumes. Nobs strode amongst their charges dispensing orders and chastising those who wasted valuable ammunition with liberal applications of head butts and stern smacks to the offenders. As they continued through the ranks, order was slowly restored to the horde; bullying the recalcitrant orks into organized lines. 

Order... It was not a word synonymous with orkish warfare. Few outside the units of Stormboyz bothered with such trivial thoughts and they were considered nutterz by their fellow orks. Those who fought under the banner of Gorfang followed a different path. The warboss had seen to it that each of his ladz were trained in 'proper' warfare. Gork and Mork had shown him that while the wanton destruction of an orkish tide could bring a planet to it's knees, orks trained to fight using takticz were nigh on unstoppable. Gorfang had also made sure that his horde was filled with those orks that their society deemed as 'outcast' or 'miscreant'; hence his WAAGH! had many stormboyz and kommandoz. Both were viewed with equal suspicion for their lack of proper 'orkiness' in the eyes of their peers. While still orks, their strict militaristic tendencies made them the perfect soldiers for a WAAAAAAAAGH led by a boss like Spinebreaka. 

The tactical acumen gleened from his conversations with Gork and Mork had been put to good use in the many battles Gorfang had engaged in in the past. The tiny voice in his head had given to him the knowledge needed to defeat many foes, including those of the human empire. His enemies had learned many harsh lessons in fighting greenskins when engaged in battle with his hordes. The orks under his command fought with all the ferocity accredited to their race. Under Gorfang's watchful eye, however, the WAAAGH turned into a beast that could counter the tactics formulated after millenia of warfare against the greenskins.

_This was WAAAAGH!_, Gorfang thought to himself as he looked over his orkish horde with pride. Gork and Mork had truly blessed him this day. With so many ladz at his command his foes would be hard-pressed to stop him. At least that was the plan. Gorfang knew that Gork and Mork were fickle deities, believing that only through battle and hardship could an ork show his superiority. While his ladz were better disciplined than most, he would need to find something to kill soon in order to keep morale up. It was the orkish way. Irregardless of training and drills, deep down they were still mindless, blood-thirsty killers who needed an outlet for their violent tendencies. 

He spotted the perfect place to fill that need. In the distance he could see pillars of swirling smoke rising from the ruins of the city that lay sprawled out before him. It would be a good place to find a decent scrap given the amount of ships he'd seen in orbit. The thought of facing marine gitz again had him chomping at the bit. They were worthy enemies. They weren't soft like most oomanz. Almost as hard to kill as an ork with armor that could made them nearly invincible. That was the kind of proper enemy for an ork to unleash his hatred on. Turning, he began barking orders to his commanders in the harsh orkish tongue. They snapped to attention at the sound of his roaring voice. His Blood Axes had learned much in their long war across the stars, including the value of listening when da Boss started handing out commands. 

Special grot runners were dispatched, bringing nobs their instructions to prepare the WAAAGH to march. Gorfang had been surprised that it was so easy to teach the grots. His runtherdz had picked the brightest of their charges and seen to their training personally. They had been chosen for their speed and ability to avoid danger; two very invaluable traits when it came to messenger boyz. Each runt also carried a colored banner marking them out so no ork would be foolish enough to disrupt their work. It had only taken a few dead orks to persuade the rest of the horde to leave the little green blighters to their duties, something Gorfang had seen to personally. The public executions had been grim even by orkish standards and left no doubt an anyone's mind that having a few pot-shots at the runners would lead to a very messy death. 

In the span of two hours, the horde had been made ready. Exhausted grots streamed into Gorfang's command post set up in the back of his ornately furnished battlewagon carrying affirmations that the orders had been received and understood. Those grots were then allowed to rest as another batch of runners was brought up and sent out with the order to move. As the WAAAAAGH finally began it's inexorable march towards the city, Gorfang idly wondered if he could get his mek boyz to rig up some kind of system that didn't require the use of grotz. He snarled to one of his nobz to bring him the big mek in charge. Surely da mek would know a way to do this...if he knew what was good for him...


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## Trevor Drake (Oct 25, 2008)

Veacht and his band were loaded into their raider craft, their night shields keeping them obscured from sight. Not too far off the sight of a rag-tag outpost appeared, looking like ramshakle shantytown rather than a command post. _Orks_ He smiled wryly. The orks were a brutal race, who favoured brutality and blood over forethought. Perhaps, with proper planning, they could forge an alliance. Afterall, the Dark Prince cared not how the souls were collected, as long as he was fed. The raider craft moved slowly towards the hovel, as Veacht prepared to dismount. In the center there stood a great ediface of planks that seemed rather ornate compared to the other debris.

"This must be where their leader is..."

Veacht nodded to the group of shaven pirates, as they grasped their belt latches, turning the circular devices and disappearing from sight as they jumped from their craft. His men stood ready at their weapons, should this go sour, while thier leader and the handfull of mandrakes that accompanied him moved to the tower, entering un-noticed. Veacht looked at the great leader of the orks, who stood taller than him in some heavy metal armour. Veacht gave a nod, as he and his retinue deactivated their cloaking devices. Veacht bowed to the warboss gracefully.

"I see that you and your kin have gathered en masse, perhaps we could be of assistance to you?"

He smiled wryly waiting for the warriors awnser.


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## Kronus (Mar 1, 2008)

*OOC:* I just recieved a PM telling me Mutants_ho can't continue so I have put a little post together to send Rotfug to meet Gorfang though I am still undecided whether the Ork assassin will sell his services or get caught up in the battle and just start savagely maiming everything he comes across

*IC:*

Rotfug was enraged, that snot coloured ugly no good son of a squig who had hired him was over 2 hours late. Rotfug while a Ork of surprising patience when it came to the hunt capable of lurking in one area days on end without uttering a word but had absolutely no time for people who wasted his especially when there was such good hunting available. He had seen all them beaky ships, there was bound to be some good hunting there and all he did was sit on his arse. 

“Uoz got anything yet”

The dozen or so savage orks grunting and scratching their heads around the monitor of the out of city scanning station looking for those little red dots Rotguf had told them to keep an eye out for. Its was bleedin boring and were it not for what their warchief had done to Kragzog they would have skulked off by now. No one wanted to join him especially considering how Rotfug beady eyes seemed even more hate filled the usual. They replied dourly:

“No Warchief, no frigging little dots yet”

Rotfug limited patience for his client shattered like a shack hit by demolisher siege round. Taking out a data recorder around his belt his sharp black claws clicked away as a new individual made it to the top of his kill list. Madgob had better hope he never run into him. Just the thought of the things he had planned for him cause his lips to rise in sadistic glee and Shazeni to hum happily. Looking back towards the group of Orks a urge to kill gripped him after all the use had expired with his contract but then had might need them in the future. He shared Maulripper’s annoyance that he had stayed his hand but Shazeni was insistent and currently she held the greater sway. He spoke in his usual soft creepy voice:

“Enough. Uoz tell dat upid arse squigg hoppin Chief of urs he to sit tight till mez comes back. Mez going to look for new git with da teef for mez. If mez find you lot not here when mez comes back uoz had better hope uoz were dead cause when mez finished with uoz u be grot fodder”

And with that he activated his stealth field generator and disappeared heading towards where he had seen huge roks crash down upon the city. With any luck Rotfug would find an new employer sooner and if not well he would have a lot of fun anyhow. This Oomie city seemed to pulse with death and conflict and Rotfug couldn’t wait to taste it properly.


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## solitaire (Mar 24, 2008)

Laethur stood at the edge of the Webway portal with his Seer Council of eight Warlocks, a group of Rangers and other Outcasts that had agreed to join them and the rest of the warband, largely made up of Dire Avengers and Striking Scorpions. As usual Laethur transmitted what he wished to say to his Warlocks psychically and they repeated it to the others.
"Chaos is our major enemy." said one Warlock.
"We must deal with them before we deal with the Imperial Mon-Keigh." said another.
"We will scout forward and disrupt our enemies plans until our main force arrives." explained the female one.
"So far we are unsure of whether we will need to make an alliance with the Humans." said the youngest disdainfully.
"It may well be necessary though." said the oldest Warlock.
Then Laethur himself spoke, his quiet, hypnotic voice filled with extraordinary power. _"Do any of you have any suggestions. . ?"_


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## shas'o7 (May 17, 2008)

*Keorlius*

Keorlius entered the planet through the webway portal, pleased to see the Farseer already there. Hearing his question, he thought for a moment, then turned and looked towards the Farseer.

"I feel we should work with the humans, for now. The mon-keigh may be brutal, but they are preferable to the forces of the great enemy. And surely it would be preferable to fight chaos with the mon-keigh, not alone."

Having spoken his part he turned towards his jetbike, checking its systems and many weapons. Satisfied, he opened his communicator.

"All eldar of the squadron of the burning Lance, check your equipment, make sure all is well. I hope to be entering combat shortly."

He closed his communicator, and walked back over to his commander. 

"Farseer, what role do you wish my force to play in this coming battle? If you wish, we can conduct a recconissance on the surrounding area, and see if there are any Chaos dogs to be killed, or any Imperials we could work with."


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## Flerden (Aug 17, 2008)

Nuzzgref landed in one of the smaller landing ships, and then drove the 'Ead crusha (his tank) to the meeting place of the looted tanks he commanded.

''Was you doing squig brains'' he shouted to the orks that drove another looted tank that did almoust hit his tank.
''Da omies are that way, in da city''
He started to drive to the city with his fellow ork lootas in their tanks.


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

OOC: I had a very busy day so I'll have to keep it short this time. 

The sudden appearance of the spikey, pointy-earred pirates startled Gorfang. In typical orkish fashion he lashed out at the preening fop; his meaty green paw grasping the dark eldar around the throat. The sound of weapons being readied filtered through the sound of the camp as both ork and dark eldar made ready to fight. He pulled the creature closer, lifting it to his massive, scar-marked face. Gorfang peered deeply into the soulless eye-pieces of the dark eldar's helmet. He snorted, taking in the scent of death and blood permeating from him; the stench of Gorfang's breath nearly made the creature gag as the hot air fogged over the lenses. Gorfang turned his head, allowing his bionik eye to get a better look; the machine whispered a soft whir as it contracted to bring the pirate into view. It did not struggle or attempt to free itself. "No fear in dis 'un" he said to no one in particular. "Datz gud..." 

Gorfang set the eldar pirate back on the ground and nodded, rubbing the blood from his hands where the creature's armor had bitten deeply into his flesh on his filthy pants. "If yaz wish, yaz kan join dis WAAAGH!" he replied in broken Gothic. "But yaz betta not try nun a yaz trikzy pointy-earred trikz 'r Iz gunna 'ave ta killz ya. Yaz undastand?"

As a Blood Axe, Gorfang knew full well that trust and treachery went hand in hand. You could never trust a potential ally to remain an ally in the realm of Orkish warfare. The same went for treachery. One day might see your foe as a potential ally depending on the circumstances and Gorfang understood that. The eldar were never to be trusted. They had a tendency to stab one in the back more than a Blood Axe after spying a brand new killy choppa and that said something. However, Gorfang was not one to look a gift squig in the mouth (especially if he wanted to keep his face, he thought to himself) and the addition of the pointy-earred panzies might make for an interesting strategy when it came to killing whatever he decided needed to die.


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## Trevor Drake (Oct 25, 2008)

Veacht pondered the words of the massive ork. The lenses of his mask were working overtime to defog from the attrocious breath of the beast, yet he was impressed with its strength. _These primative beings show promise_ he thoght to himself. He nodded to his mandrakes as they sheathed their blades and pistols, his own blades retracting back into his gauntlets. They would serve their usefullness, as all the other younger races did from time to time, it was only a matter of when they would stop being usefull and start being a nusance.

"A wise decision, i can see why you have survived this long to rule over your fellow orks. I have a small splinter force on the outskirts of your camp, with more warriors in reserve. If you have a plan for attack, we will do our part."


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## Vaz (Mar 19, 2008)

The Battle in Ragnar city gets ever more desperate for the outnumbered Imperials, a Space Marine Chapter, and several guard regiments stand against the combined assaults of the Chaos forces, including several Traitor Legions, and even a Titan Legion. The forces of the Imperium are flagging, and it is down to the efforts of a brave few that it is still held in the face of insurmountable odds.

The Eldar strike forces realise this, and under their Farseer make their way to the citadel, rapid moving forces of jetbikes racing each other, vying to be be the first into battle against the hated forces of the Defiler, She Who Thirsts.

Meanwhile, the knowledge of battle was ripe on the air - the world reeked of it. The Ork Waaagh! knew it was there - even the Edukazions of Big Boss SpineBreaka could not hold them together long enough before tribe after tribe wandered off, attacking anything they came across, lootin' and shootin', and choppin' anything that wasn't green, and headbuttin' anythin' that woz. WAAAAAAAAAGHHHH!


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

OOC: So how does this affect the alliance between myself and Icedrake? I mean if my forces are just going to up and abandon their boss and start attacking everything that isn't an ork that's pretty much ended it. Just curious as I need to know before continuing.

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate


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## Vaz (Mar 19, 2008)

[OOC - sorry, it has no effect. Sorry if it came across as that - it was certainly not my intention. Your Orks are merely growing restless with the waiting when they know fighting is taking place. It's entirely up to you - I gave you the story line of what could happen.

Under yourselves, you make your own choices. For example, if the Eldar Jetbikers don't feel like shooting off, then the Farseer could call them back. It's just background, trying to make it more interesting ]


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

OOC: anyone of you can jump into this situation of you want, even though that challenge was for Vaecht.

as vilhelm and his men made their way further north toward the break in the city wall he and his men encountered more and more orks and dark eldar. although their relentless tide had slowed a little they were still cutting down many in their path. at one point the endless crimson tide that was the word bearer host and the daemons suddenly stopped. the concentration of the orks was simply to thick for any to hack their way through. the dark eldar could be seen departing from their raiders in midair and landing amidst the imperial and chaos lines.

for the first moment in a very very long time his men had been halted in a swirling melee, and it seemed as if they were being pushed back, even the daemons had lost some of their ferocity. Vilhelm roared as he saw one of his personal gaurd get torn to pieces by a dark eldar warrior. for the first time after he had set foot on this planet he let the daemons in his armor give them their power and fuel his hatred and anger. he felt the unbelievable power surge through his mind and body and let his psychic presence touch those of his warriors and the daemons, gifting them with a fraction of his power. he spread his wings wide and let the black fire cover him and roared to the heavens, the sound like an atomic explosion. 

his men and the daemons killed with renewed fury and in the midst of his slaughter Vilhelm saw who could only be the leader of the Dark Eldar. Vilhelm pointed at him with his crozius, "You cowardly eldar wretch! Come down from your perch like a true warrior and meet your death!"


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

OOC: too late icedradke, lord kronus i take your offer

The Dark Eldar paid Vilhelm no heed and disappeared into the distance as he directed his men in the ensuing battle. Vilhelm in his anger killed all those around him, letting the khornate daemon inside him to come to the fore. Just ahead he saw a strange looking ork. He immediately surpressed the daemon so he could think straight and get a better look at the ork. as he got closer he sensed something, something that he knew. the warriors on the battlefield, ork, marine, and eldar parted before him as he made his way toward this unique ork. He knew the smell, the smell was chaos.


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

(OOC Sorry I'm so late. Offers of alliance and mercenary work are open to everyone, as you can intercept the Orkish communication. Unfortunately I won't be in the action for a while, there is no way I can justify such a small and limited group of Tau charging in.)

Ko'tol looked straight at the overall commander, Kor'o Vash'ya Va'b'shas'ka.

"So the warp drives broke? Why wasn't I told earlier?"

"You're a warrior, not an engineer. But now we need you."

"What for?"

"Our repairs last time used a piece of Ork technology, which appears to have been adapted from Imperial. Unfortunately the Orks hadn't put it together very well, and we knew too little about it to do anything to it so it stayed unserviced. We've lost a specific component that we don't have in our stores."

"So, what component?"

"The earth caste says it's linked to the 'machine spirit'. We'll need you to recover something."

"So we'll have to participate in this mass war?"

"Yes, but hopefully not alone. Using Ork and Eldar communication devices we captured in the past we are attempting to set up alliances, or do mercenary work. It should be easy to recover the necessary parts."

"So when are we making planetfall?"

"When negotiations are over."


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## Kronus (Mar 1, 2008)

(OOC: En guarde Apostle. The battle begins  )

These Orks proved as fruitless as the first, they didn’t know where to find the Warboss and to be honest they cared less, lost as they were in the call of battle. Killing them had been a mercy and in retrospect a little hasty. Had he spared but one of the small group of burnas he had ambushed information he might have had the opportunity to truly work off his frustration by skinning the wretch alive. He didn’t immediately take in the chaos of battle around him, lost in his own thoughts. After all the was no immediate threat and soon enough he would be on his way, just another shadow among the ruins to strike unsuspecting on his would be prey. He only hoped the next lot would be more informative, he was quickly losing patience with the Warboss.

Rage suddenly seeped into him like water in to desert, unnatural and ancient. Maulripper's howl rippled through his scarred soul. It had sensed the presence an old rival, it had been long since they had met but Maulripper had never forgotten. Old hatred long dormant rose like a furnace to life full of fire and brimstone.

Rotfug turned and in the near distance he saw him and a wave of chaos energy dark and unbending pulsed through him. Then pain, immense pain rippled through his every being and he fell to his knees howling to the amusement of a number of word bearer marines who were noticing him for the first time. Maul rippers strength of purpose, nay his desire to rend his immortal rival in twain had pushed the Bloodcrusher to try to fully take control, to crush the very life out of his rival and his host. Shazeni sensing his attempt resisted with all her subtle might and even now Rotfug’s body writhed in near imaginable agony as the daemonic entities fought a savage battle for dominance. The struggle didn’t last as it became apparent their host would not survive the conflict as lethal daemonic energies rippled through his body. So an accord was met, in return for maul ripper receding for the while Shazeni would aid him in the destruction of his rival. Eager for his blood the dark pact was sealed and the daemons set to work. To defeat such a foe would require great strength and so as one the rivals for Rotfug’s fate unleashed their power.

To the marines in front, the Orks twitching was truly invigorating to watch though like all good things it eventauly came to an end with the mewling creature slumped in heave, just another pathetic mortal beast seemingly dead upon the field of battle. Then its skin began to crack and scars began to glow. On closer inspection they weren’t scars at all but arcane marks and daemonic runes. The brutish creature seemed to flip to its feet with cat like ease. It seemed to take them in with glowing red eyes, though in truth it gaze was locked on another some 20 ft behind standing on ridge surveying his forces, before opening its mouth and unleashing a bellow that could not have been uttered by any mortal and charged.

At first the traitor marines gazed in shock as the strange and oddly malevolent Ork charging towards them with the speed and grace that no Ork should possess. Weirder still was the odd pinkish cloud that seemed to project from it whispering dark promises. The few in front lifted their bolters to put the miserable creature out for the count permanently when the pink vapour washed over them and the image in front of the eyes became distorted and a feeling of joy washed over them. Enveloped in the aura of acquiescence the Chaos Marines could but watch as they were ripped apart by the Ork who barely missed a beat continuing towards the terminator clad apostle in the near distance.

A third levelled his heavy bolter and unleashed a torrent of deadly high explosive shells only for the oncoming creature to leap with inhuman speed towards a nearby wall and proceed to run along its claws digging into its battered surface. Pivoting around to catch it the shells reduced the wall to rubble but the thing was ever one step ahead. Suddenly it leapt closing the gap between the two of them in seconds and landed feet on the surprised marine’s shoulders before plunging Shazeni clean through his horned helmet. As the marine fell dead Rotfug throw himself forward closing down the final feet towards his true target. Even now he could hear the fervent whispers, the unvoiced commands of his masters to rend the apostle in two and take his skull for the Skull Throne. Eyes blazing with insanity he rushed headlong, leaping the final few feet Maulripper screaming through the air in attempt to decapitate the huge traitor marine screaming in a guttural voice that sounded oddly wrong coming from the Ork and so very natural at the same time:

*“Blood for the Blood God” *


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## Discy (Oct 23, 2008)

OOC: I, Baraz, in the name of the Great Reverser, Tzeentch, challenge anyone to try and beat me! You shall never pierce my mighty Squat exo-armour! Death to the Xenos destroyers! See you in the Chaos thread.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

Vilhelm laughed in his amusement as he saw his men get torn apart by this ork. the gods had possessed the wretch and now the weak daemons inside him believed they could kill him. Vilhelm recognized the khornate daemon he had trapped in the orcs massive axe and laughed even louder at the sheer irony of this fight. the ork bellowed as it flew at his head and Vilhelm roared as he let the powers of all four of the daemons course through his body, lending him unbelievable strength. he struck the ork's axe with his crozius and punched it in the face with his other hand, knocking it to the floor. 

it got up in a fit of rage and charged him again, its skin pulsing with dark energy. it feinted a hack at his head again and when he made to block it the axe cut across his armor at his chest and got stuck within it. the ork looked a little surprised at what happened and Vilhelm laughed cruelly as he struck the ork across the face with his crozius, knocking it away from him. the axe still stuck in his armor he spread his wings and bellowed to the skies. this ork would die, and he would consume the daemons that were giving him power. He could feel the daemon inside the weapon fighting to enter his armor and consume his soul but the four greater daemons that had been trapped within his armor fought it back for they had been bound to Vilhelm by their masters and his protection was their main priority. He wrenched the axe out of his armor with his free hand and examined it. The daemon inside squelled in fear and anger as he looked upon it and the axe twiched in his grip. 

"Maulripper..." he muttered to himself. He remembered the trapping of this daemon had been one of his first tests given to him by Lorgar. How had it gotten into the hands of this ork? He wondered. He looked for the ork but could not see it. He closed his eyes and surveyed his surroundings with his psychic sight and saw him clear as day and the daemon within his other weapon. He opened his eyes and spoke to the ork, "Here take your axe, I do not need such a weak weapon. I would sooner consume the daemon for myself." He tossed the axe into the building that the ork was hiding in. The ork flew out of the building at an unimaginable speed. Vilhelm charged, his own warcry on his lips, and the two collided, the force of their collision sending out a massive shockwave knocking ork and marine to the floor. Vilhelm could tell that the ork was not used to others being faster or just as fast as it and that this fact troubled it greatly. So long as the daemons in the ork's weapons and Vilhelm's armor lived he could predict its every move. But still the ork was about three quaters his size, which was absolutely huge for an ork for Vilhelm was a massive man and blessed by the gods themselves. The ork's strength and tenacity was tremendous and Vilhelm felt himself approve of this enemy. 

The two of them struck blades, Vilhelm's crozius and the ork's two weapons locking together. Vilhelm could feel the daemon in his crozius fight against the two daemons in the ork and its roars caused sparks to fly between the weapons. Vilhelm and the ork were face to face, the ork being the first being to see his face after his beginning of the road to ascension and it was truly hellish. although still human his blue eyes burned permently with an eeire fire and his teeth and been replaced by daemonic ones that were sharper than any blade. Scars crisscrossed his face and his veins could be seen beneath his skin pulsing with a dark glowing energy. This sight would have been enough for any being to give up but the ork simply bellowed in his face as it sought to overpower him. Vilhelm let out a daemonic roar that tore at the fabric of reality.


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## Discy (Oct 23, 2008)

OOC: Thanks Icedrake25
"Oh yeh?", grunted Baraz at the Dark Eldar. "Well, you can stick your Dark Prince where the sun don't shine. For the Great Reverser!", and let rip with the Exo-armours' assault cannon.


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## Trevor Drake (Oct 25, 2008)

Veacht dropped to the ground, the rounds of the assault cannon scarring his right shoulder guard. He looked up, his hidden eyes glaring with hatred, while bringing his legs around and using the motion to leap forward. He triggered his shadow field, blurring as he ran forward, re-appearing while spinning on his toe, his dual agonizers swinging down at the stunted warrior. Veacht felt the drugs in his system wearing down, as he prepared his injectors for another dose. His Incubi swirled about them, keeping the area clear for the two dueling, while being carefull not to interfear with the two, lest they themselves incure the punishment marked on their masters enemy.


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## Discy (Oct 23, 2008)

Flinching as the agonizers desended towards him, Baraz suddenly felt a surge of power through him. Grabbing the blades in his guantlet, he crushed them in a blaze of released energies.
"Is that the best you can do?", he sneered. "Well, yer gonna need a lot more help from your 'Dark Prince', 'cos I got the Great Reverser on my side!"
And he smacked the Eldar lightly across the face with his guantlet.


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## SpaNNerZ (Jun 17, 2008)

OOC: I Krankor, is issuing a challenge to anyone willing enough to accept. might take a few posts to get the story at the right point for it but yeh. Challenge wanted.


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

OOC: I apologize for taking so long to get back to this. I was without internet for most of last week due to my ISP snafu'ing LOL. But, that aside, I have returned! :biggrin: Time to get stuck in...

Gorfang snarled as his warband broke into smaller groups of orks instead of following his commands. Leaning over, he slapped the driver of his battlewagon; the surprised ork gawping at the sight of his boss staring down at him with murderous intent in his beady red eyes. Gorfang pointed and roared. It was a simple command as anything too complicated would have been lost in the noise of the engine and the wind whipping wind anyways. As the battlewagon plowed its way through the mobz of orks, Gorfang muscled his way into the vehicle's rusty, tight turret. A nod could fit comfortably in the cramped space but Gorfang's sheer mass made it difficult to shift his way in. Snarling loudly he opened fire on a band of orks to his left. The shot was wide, crashing into a nearby band of shootaz instead. Blood and body parts exploded skyward to rain down on those close by. He immediately turned the turret to his right and opened fire again. After several rounds the ladz got the idea. 

Crawling through the turret's cupola, Gorfang raised his might claw over his head and roared loudly. Their random attacks against everything in their path hadn't been the plan. The nobz started to reinstate order at the behest of their rather angry boss and soon the column was back to moving. It didn't take long for the horde to find it's first target as they reached the outer limits of the ooman city. Spiky marines could be seen everywhere, killing everything in reach. Gorfang smiled as he pointed his power klaw in the general direction of the chaos gitz and roared his WAAAAAAAAAGH! battle cry. 

Ork drivers gunned their engines as they slammed into the waiting forces of the Dark Gods. "Time ta die!" Gorfang yelled in poor low-gothic. "FOR GORK 'N MORK!! Slaughta da kaoz gitz!" The sound of thousands of orks raising their voice in a mighty WAAAAAGH! filled the city's outskirts. It was magnificent. Gorfang found himself roaring with glee as his ladz fought and bled and died under his cyclopsian gaze. The sounds of battle surrounded him. The cries of the dying, the booming report of the big gunz...both were music to ears. Only in the swirling melee of a good skrap did Gorfang come alive. Not waiting for his battlewagon to slow down enough for his nobz to disembark, the giant green warboss took a running leap from the top of his command vehicle; landing amidst the blood and the gore of dying ork and chaos marine. Raising his head, Gorfang shouted his prayers to his orkish gods; praising them for giving him such a good fight.

He struck left and right with his massive power klaw; smashing aside ork and traitor marine alike as he muscled his way deeper. His shoota banged out a stataco tempo of death. He howled loudly, his voice almost lost in the din of battle. Gorfang found himself facing a chaotic champion; the deep, blood-colored red of his armor a stark contrast to the flow of green, orkish hides surrounding him. The ooman was making a good account of himself, his powerful blows killing many orks as he carved a bloody path through the baying greenskins. On seeing the warboss, the champion redoubled his efforts, taking his butchery to new heights as limbless bodies flew from his hell-forged weapon. Snarling, Gorfang matched the traitor's fury with his own, slamming his power klaw in a murderous arc through the milling chaos marines who foolishly stood in his way. The traitor called to him in a language so evil it made Gorfang's ears hurt. Reaching to them his hand came back smeared with the dark ichor that ran through his veins. While he could not understand what the beast said, Gorfang could understand the intent. He returned the champion's challenge with a roar of his own; an incoherent snarl of orkish curses and taunts.


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## Concrete Hero (Jun 9, 2008)

With a protesting shriek, the doors of the Eldar transport ship were ripped from their sockets. A huge and angled golden head protruded from the husk of the ship, glittering even in the dying firefight light of the battlefield. Pulling himself free from the wreckage Kanyyr Goldhelm, survyed his surroundings. A wave of emotions washed against Kanyyr, fear anger and panic painting the smoky landscape of his wraithsight with splashes of bright colours. He sensed all manner of the lesser races around him and suppressed an inward shiver. Calling out, Kanyyr searched for Laethur

"_Laethur. Where are you? I told you taking the transport was unsafe. We are seperated._"

Kanyyr let the call resonate along the mental pathways, and was disgusted to realise he was in close proximity to the Great Enemy. His fist tightened on _Mirror_. His transport had come down inside the city, giving him no idea where the Farseer was, and without Laethur or his Warlocks he could not contact the other forces. Thankfully, the raw emotional turmoil of war helped illuminate the landscape.

Nothing was in sight, his vessel had come down in a small, complete ruin of a Imperial building, whether or not he was on the outskirts or in the heart he could not tell. Kanyyr cursed his lack of fortune at these circumstances. He felt no signs of life from the Crashed ship and took note of the massive rent along the side of the ship, a deep black gouge and violated the ships hull, ignoring the holofieds and destroying the majestic ship. The eges of the 'wound' were melted and still red. The crude technology of the mon-keigh, brought low by a pathetic attempt at harnessing laser technology. 

Kanyyr swung _Mirror_ lazily before him. Its blade crystal clear in his wraitsight, Pivoted His bright lance and set forward into the city.

He would find Laethur, or kill anyone else.


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## solitaire (Mar 24, 2008)

Laethur calmly slammed his Spear into the chest of a Chaos Marine while he was gawking at his empty eye sockets, knocking him backwards through the air. He could sense his Warlocks behind him fighting equally as ruthlessly but could foresee it would not be enough. He sent psychic messages outwards and within seconds a squad of Dire Avengers and a squad of Striking Scorpions came to their aid.
Laethur's Warlocks quickly explained the situation. "The Forces of the Great Enemy have blocked our path to the Imperial Mon-Keigh."
"What's more is that Laethur has foreseen that the Jetbikes are about to be ambushed."
"We must locate and help them."
"Quickly, let us continue."
Just as they started moving Laethur felt the message from Kanyyr. He stopped suddenly, going over all the information in his mind, until he came up with a decision.
_"Keep... Keep moving, we must keep moving. . _."


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## shas'o7 (May 17, 2008)

Keorlius rode through the air, seeking out any enemy forces. There didn't seem to be anything around.WAIT! There, near a ruined bunker there was a sign of movement. Signalling for his squadron to follow, he approached the area at low altitude checking around him. A chaos Marine jumped out in front of him, aiming a sonic weapon. Quickly, Keorlius decapitataed him with his powersword, and turned. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Hundreds of Chaos Marines, all bearing banners to the Great Enemy, moving out of ambush positions. A Trap! Koerlius saw 2, 3, 6 jetbikes explode from direct hits, and fal spiralling to the ground. Roaring in anger, Keorlius charged there lines, killing two marines, and knocking another three off their feet. Seeing that they were outnumbered, he ordered his squadron up into the air, where they rode away from the hellscape. Checking over, he realized he had lost over 30 good bikers. He yearned to go avenge his fallen comrades, but this was not the time. He rode hard back to where the farseer had been, hoping he wasn't too late, and they were'nt already under attack.


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Stomping forward, Gorfang locked horns with the chaotic champion. "Finally a foe worth killing" he thought to himself as he rained blow after flow on the mutated marine. The creature was not to be so easily defeated though. Its strength flowed from the cursed warp and its power nearly equaled the physical might of the warboss. The champion's blows came in return; it's sizzling power axe scarring the Gorfang's camoflauged 'eavy armor and biting deep into the unprotected flesh of his left bicept. Gorfang roared with glee as the blood flowed freely down his to his meaty fist; the pain reminding him that he was still alive and still a champion of sorts. His gods demanded war and battle and death. That was the way of the orks. It could never be said that orks didn't enjoy a good scrap.

Gorfang shoulder-blocked the chaos marine, bringing his full weight to bear as the blow sent the traitor reeling. It recovered just in enough time to see his massive power klaw snipping through his torso, staining the ground with blood and entrails. Raising his head, he screamed to the heavens in the brutal orkish tongue. "GORK AND MORK!"

His lads were having as much fun as he was. Gorfang could see that through shear numbers they were making headway. He had to keep the press up. Gorfang knew that if the steam-roller of an assault stymied then the orks would see the worst of it. Sure enough the shrieking sound of artillery could be heard as it carved its way across the cluttered, rubble-strewn streets of the city's outskirts; the mighty payloads bringing death to chaos marine and ork alike. Vaguely Gorfang wondered if the attack was from his gitz, the chaos gitz, or the Empra-lovin gitz on the other side of the chaos lines. He didn't really care to be honest. It was yet another example of the orkish mind's tendency to wander.


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## Concrete Hero (Jun 9, 2008)

Kanyyr's long strides were granting him good headway, that and the apparent absence of any sort of fighting in this small knot of streets. Kanyyr's glittering helm snapped to the right as he felt the violent explosion of panic in the distance followed by the sharp death knells of... Of his comrades. Kanyyr let out a growl that sounded low and watery from his material body. A great number of what he could only imagine to be Jet bikers had been brutally slaughtered in the distance. He felt some of their souls residing in a state of panic with soul stones adoring their craft, though he let out a long lament as he felt others dragged to She Who Thirsts.

"_Laethur! Our Brethren have suffered a great loss. I move towards you. Do not endanger yourself _" 

Rounding a street corner, Kanyyr was literally assaulted by the emotional turmoil of the battle. Fear. Anger and perverse pleasure bloomed across the warzone, lighting the howling landscape of the wriathsight. Orks fought brutally with the Great Enemy, the two were literally butchering each other in the streets. Kanyyr felt the presence of a particularly... Strange Ork. He saw the Orkoid clearly now; A warboss of impressive stature had just finished with the body of a Chaos marine, discarding its broken rags before leaping back into the fray.
Sending another mental pulse towards the Farseer:

"_This is... Chaos. The streets are slick with the fallen. The Orkoid tide is weathering the Enemies flank, though their future I cannot determine. The Mon-Keigh are not present, though their souls I feel on the wind. They are close by. I will avoid conflict and meet with yo-_

Kanyyr lost his grip on the message, sending only a fraction. A gruesome soul had neared him and polluted his mind momentarily. Kanyyr locked his 'sight' on the one responsible and felt the Dark Powers seeping from his body.

A Dark Apostle. The wretched thing pulsed with unnatural energies and it's very presence infuriated Kanyyr. His anger threatened to boil over and Kanyyr Goldhelm let out a Guttural roar, audible in the material realm as a great echoey growl. Kanyyr let loose a terrific blast from his Bright Lance at the Apostle before Extending _Mirror_ in challenge. He let loose another mental pulse, directed at the Chaos champion

"_Here you will fall, Destroyer._

Kanyyr strode forward, Crushing a unwary Chaos Marine flat into the floor with one determined stomp and Cleaving another in two as he made for the Dark Apostle, already the blood of the fallen mottling his body.



((OOC, The speech is broken up to show the strange working of the Ghost Warriors mind. I'm not that boring really :biggrin)


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

Vilhelm ducked as a lance of bright energy shot out at his head. he turned and saw a massive wraithlord point its sword at him, _here you will fall destroyer_. the thought lept into his mind unbidden and he growled, charon looked up at his master as a child would a father. "Lord?" Vilhelm looked down at him and he realized now was the time to truly test charon one last time, a test of leadership of the forces of chaos. "Charon you will share joint command with Ares in this front," he was stopped as he realized he had sent Ares to ambush the eldar jetbikes, "You will take command here in my stead while I murder this eldar fool." 

Charon's eyes widened and he nodded immediately sending his psychic presence out to lead the chaos marines, leapt into the combat. Vilhelm stood up to his full height, one more decent kill and he would ascend, this wraithlord would be the perfect crowning moment. Suddenly a massive ork leapt at him, striking him across the face. as he and the ork struggled he could sense the amusement of the wraithlord as it believed this truly herculean ork would kill him. in a flash of anger he let the four daemons inside him feed him their full power along with the one within his crozius and he punched the ork in the face, breaking its jaw and the rest of its skull, killing it instantly. 

the ork's anger and pure hatred in its soul fuelled Vilhelm immensley and he reared up roaring. his body suddenly started to morph and change and in a bright flash of light he had completed his ascension to daemonhood, now he was a daemon prince. his armor now had the faces of all those killed by him constantly screaming in agony, giant wings spread behind him, his face looked like that of tight skin pulled over a skull, no nose or lips and sharpened teeth, two giant horns protruded from his forehead, and pure warpstuff constantly dripped from the joints in his armor and his mouth. the four daemons, a bloodthirster, a keeper of secrets, a changer of ways and a great unclean one, were now one with him. they and he were the same they had been combined and in the titanic psychic battle that took place in the warp, that took ages there but seconds in realspace, saw him triumph and consume all four into his soul and conscience and psychic presence. now he was truly a prince of the warp. 

He pointed at the wraithlord with his taloned finger and in a voice that sounded like four speaking at the same time he said, "I am the true Eightfold Path and you will fall before me."


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## Concrete Hero (Jun 9, 2008)

Kanyyr both watched and felt the transformation of the Dark Apostle Vilhelm, he sneered inwardly at the new body of this Chaos Champion, he had felled these 'Princes of Chaos' before. Though this one seemed different... He felt a psychic torrent rage within the Daemon Prince. The Great enemy had revealed one of their trick cards too soon, Kanyyr Goldhelm would not be intimidate by the augmentations the Chaos 'Gods' bestowed upon their puppets.

Kanyyr felt the prescence of another Warp-Charged Chaos follower descend to the battle and a spike of anger between the two. Clear in his Wraithsight the Daemon Prince turned to face this new follower of Chaos and Kanyyr leapt at his chance. 

Increasing his speed to a frightening rate Kanyyr cleared the ground with long strides. He slashed a powerful stroke at Vilhelm, _Mirror_ blurring through the air with profound speed. Expecting a block or a parry, Kanyyr punched forwards with his left fist, heavy flamers releasing a white hot screaming inferno as he made the strike.
This Servant of the Enemy had indeed been improved, though the strength and resilience offered by this body was Titanical.


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## solitaire (Mar 24, 2008)

Laethur heard Kanyyr's disjointed message but still chose to continue, he was greatly saddened by the deaths of some of the Jetbikers but knew the worst was yet to come.
_"Keorlius take a sharp left, Raptors are about to attack."_ He sent the warning to him psychically while at the same time he assaulted the mind of the lead Raptor of one of two squads, killing him instantly. The Dire Avengers felled half a dozen as they started to take off while the Scorpions engaged in combat with the ones who remained on the ground. Laethur himself glided towards the other squad leader who flew at him with his Powerfist. The area was filled with a tremendous smash as a Singing Spear collided with his weapon, the result threw the Raptor through the air hard into a tree. . .


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## Concrete Hero (Jun 9, 2008)

((OOC If you want me to stop posting this in both threads just let me know... Just so people don't miss any happenings))

This one was proving more of a challenge than he originally anticipated. And the thought of Laethur not within his immediate sight was nagging at his mind.

Though he was enraged at being thrown by this warp fuelled monster and his anger was powering his towering body. After the disturbance from the energy distortion had dissipated Kanyyr lunged forward again, meeting the hands of the Daemon prince both clasped each others hands and were locked in a struggle of raw physical power. Kanyyr held the talons of the Daemon Prince within his own before him and the two tried to force the other one away. Cracks began to appear in the floor around the two with the strain.

The Bright Lance on Kanyyr's shoulder swivelled and pumped a searing blast at the Daemon Prince at point blank range, the flash immense and blinding


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

the flash struck Vilhelm in the face but the changer of ways that had become a part of him saw the attack coming and the attacks power was rendered moot, even so the bright flash blinded him and caused him to let go of the wraithlord and bring his hands to his face. he roared as the wraithlord proceeded to throw punches at his chest and he lashed out with his hands letting loose a thunderous roar. the sheer power of it pushed the wraithlord back and it leaned into the roar like it would a galeforcewind. he charged letting the warp course through him and into his fists to give them added power. "YOUR RACE WILL FALL!"


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## shas'o7 (May 17, 2008)

Hearing the un-natural message in his head, Keorlius immediatly banked left, taking his squadron away from the raptors emerging in the distance.

_Thanks_, he thought

Looking out at the battlefield, he saw a Wraithlord engaging a Daemon Prince. Seeing the Brightlance fire engulf the Prince, he let out a scream of celebration, which was cut short angrily when he saw the Prince emerge unscathed. Knowing he was not strong enough to engage the Prince, but not wanting to leaf the wraithlord helpless, he flew over the Prince at great speed, releasing a melta bomb on top of his head at exactly theright moment.

Hoping he had helped, he then turned towards the raptors, and prepared his squadron to charge.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

As Vilhelm charged the Wraithlord something peculiar happened, the wraithlord wasnt charging back. What? thought Vilhelm. Then his world erupted in pain and a bright light. The top of his head had been blown open by an Eldar on a jetbike. He shook his head to recover his sight and let out a sigh of pleasure as his head rebuilt itself back to what it was. 

"Ah the joys of the warp." he said. He could still see the Jetbike getting farther and farther away and a thought came to him. He smiled and shot out a ball of pure warp energy and the bike, hitting its back engine and spinning it out of control andinto a building. He could feel the wraithlord's rage at his action as it charged at him. He let loose a thunderous roar and charged back.


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## solitaire (Mar 24, 2008)

Laethur finished off the last of the Raptors and suddenly felt the magnitude of the battle between Wraithlord and Daemon Prince. He turned and ran through the streets, still with the Seer Council, Dire Avengers and Striking Scorpions. They had nearly reached Kanyyr when Cultists swarmed towards them along with two Rhinos filled with Chaos Marines. Instantly Laethur took control of the situation sending messages to the minds of all Eldar around him.
_"Cysakr take command of the Warlocks and use them to destroy the Rhinos and anymore that show up. Bachunis form the Avengers into a line and shoot down the Marines from a distance, only engage in combat as a final course of action. Tirehn you take the Striking Scorpions and cull the Cultists, once your finished with them move round and attack the rear of the Chaos Marines. I'm going to help Kanyyr."_ With that he left them and rounded a corner to see the titanic battle in action. Laethur hurled his Singing Spear and knocked the Prince off balance before concentrating his entire consciousness and blasting it towards him in the form of a Mind War.
_"You may be able to kill us alone foul creature but you cannot kill us together. . ._


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## shas'o7 (May 17, 2008)

Keorlius desperately sought to recover control of his bike, knowing that if he hi the building too quickly, even his reinforced bike wouldn't be able to last the impact.

He finally managed to straighten out, and hit the building powerblade first, scything through the walls. Exiting the other side, he saw the warlocks being slightly driven back by Chaos Marines disembarking the rhinos.

Gathering his squadron, he yelled out an order.

_By Khaine, show these Chaos dogs the meaning of fear! CHARGE!_

Moving faster than could be accurately seen, his squadron literally smashed through the chaos marines, and then circled around for another run. This time, he took ten of his bikers and went directly at the rhinos. A few melta bombs later, and the rhinos exploded, consuming the rest of the Chaos marines in flame.

Satisfied, he then turned towards the cultists, where he could see the striking scorpions engaging. He drove right into the thick of it, blasting the cultists out of the way with his reaper launcher. After a decent fight, the cultists broke and ran, with Keorlius and his squadron chasing them for several miles, killing hundreds during the pursuit. Exhausted, but pleased, Keorlius banked towards the Prince, Wraithlord, and Farseer, and wathched the battle unfold.


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## Vaz (Mar 19, 2008)

The fighting is not yet over - despite horrific losses, the sheer tenacity of the Orks and even the Eldar are winning through, either by Brute force and numbers, or skill and ability.

The battle could easily turn - the knowledge burned through the Farseer like no end. It could not end so soon! Suddenly, blossoming into existance, a shimmering gateway ripped its way into reality. Through it poured unnumbered Eldar - Wild Riders in the deep rouge and bone of Saim Hann mainly, Vipers and yet more fast moving jetbikes to assist the struggling shining spears. But that was not the last of it - out strode Maugan Ra, the Phoenix Lord, his bladed shuriken cannon flicking out severing heads from their bodies in a heartbeat, the bladed discs which poured from its end turning Chaos marines into seives. The Eldar would not go down without a fight.

Meanwhile - the ambushers of the Dark Eldar was sprung - Wyches and Scourges, their crimson and purple armour hidden amongst the black and grey shadows of the city, suddenly appearing in the midst of the Traitor Legionnaires assaulting their Archon. Power blades and scythed hoverboards cutting short the worship of the Chaos Lackeys.

The Orks indeed were not alone - despite the entire forces of his Waaaggghhh! landing but a few short hours ago, he was already being joined by Ork clanz hidden somewhere on the planet, and drawn by the volume of bloodshed. Unsure at what deze 'ere newboyz wer gud for, Warboss Spinebreaka settled for lettin' 'em attack doze chaos boyz, and told iz lootaz to shoot bofe ov 'em. When the time was right, and them Chaos boyz were retreatin, it would be time to strike his masta plan. He hadn't even commited his Tanks yet!

[OOC]Just an update, to keep the story and constant roleplay flowing. No real information involved, and nothing major. Just thought you could do with some new bodies to soak up the fire power.


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## Flerden (Aug 17, 2008)

ooc: sorry for not posting here for a while, I havent got very much time to spend lately.

Nuzzgref cursed the chaos boyz for destroying his looted tank.
''Now i must find me an new une'' He then saw an eldar being shoot of his jetbike, but the jetbike did not brake.
''Wonder if that une still works?''
Nuzzgref climbed up on it and tryed to get forward with it, when he had learned the basics (how to throtle, turn and shot) he speeded to the nearest orc camp. It was the camp of Warboss Spinebreaka.
''Big camp is many meks to 'elp me make som improvmentz on da bike''


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## Concrete Hero (Jun 9, 2008)

Kanyyr watched with undisguised disgust as the warp creature rebuilt its shattered skull, thankful for the brief respite offered by the jetbiker but enraged at his possible demise. Kanyyr stepped forward though was stopped in his tracks as he saw Laethur and felt his mind lance out in a powerful snare towards the Daemon Prince.

"_No! ....No, I am sorry, I realise you can defend yourself, but do not stray too close, this monster is quicker than he appears._"

Kanyyr took advantage of the Farseers mental assault by charging forward, blade held high in a two hand grip. Time seemed to slow down has Kanyyr closed the gap to the Daemon Prince _Mirror_ cutting through the air in a white hot blur of fury

((OOC Sorry for a few days of absence, getting bogged down... And to return with such a short post too ))


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

Vilhelm roared in anger as he felt the farseer's attack at his mind. Nothing would stop him now, he was of the warp and he fed off of battle. So long as they fought him and he killed he would gain in strength. He backhanded the wraithlord's sword knocking it out of its hand and gripped it on the wrist with his right hand and below the shoulder with his left and rotated his whole body, slamming the wraith into the ground with devastating force. He leapt on top of the wraithlord and began to punch it repeatedly in the headpiece, each blow widening the crack that had appeared. He felt another lance of psychic energy and heard the farseer's statement. He picked the wraithlord up and tossed it at a falling meltabomb, the two meeting in an explosion. 

He let his power weep out of him and into his men, making them five times as dangerous as before for the power of the warp was feeding them now. He roared in triumph as the wraithlord weakly pulled itself up. He was about to attack when he saw the farseer and shot a pure ball of warpstuff at it. He yelled at his men, "Slaughter them all!" his men roared back and redoubled their efforts pushing the farseer and is retinue out of his sight. "I will push your race into extinction!"


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## solitaire (Mar 24, 2008)

((OOC: Hope you don't mind that I'm not writing in both threads as I can't really be bothered...))

IC: Laethur mildly stepped out of the way of the ball of warpstuff and looked round to see his warlocks join him just before the retinue attacked him and the vicious battle commence. Laethur looked into the future and sent the images he saw into the minds of the Seers allowing them to dodge an unbelievable amount of strikes. The two forces were evenly matched, both taking losses but slowly the Warlocks started to fall until the only one remaining was the Farseer. Laethur moved only very little and only blocked a handful of attacks yet still somehow he was never hit. Occasionally he would slash or stab with his Spear and one would fall. There was only one left when suddenly Laethur's future sight failed for but an instant and the angry warrior knocked him to the ground. He was about to swing again with his weapon when a Warp Spider Exarch appeared behind him in a flash and beheaded him with his Power Blades.

Laethur got to his feet as more Warp Spiders appeared.
_"The Eldar Warhost has arrived. Your death is imminent. . ._


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## Vaz (Mar 19, 2008)

OOC - Solitaire, a duel is a duel between two characters. Even Orks have some compunction to let the two fight on their own, etc...

While it's good you're helping, please let the two duke it out on their own merits.


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## solitaire (Mar 24, 2008)

((OOC: Eh fine edited. It just appeared my guy was losing. . .))


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## Concrete Hero (Jun 9, 2008)

Kanyyr rose to his feet in jerky, laboured, movements. Joints protesting and jets of a highly pressurised vapour periodically hissing from cracks in his armour. A low gurgling sound escaped The Wraithlord before the ancient warrior drew himself up for battle once more. He had been damaged but this was not yet over. _Mirror_ was too far away to recover, the gigantic blade protruding from the ground some way away. Kanyyr readied himself with his fist out in a boxer stance. 

His armour was matted mostly black due to the explosion. a large area of his back had been scarred by the blast; the wraithbone was strong, but still large melted wounds were scattered across his body.

Momentary panic filled Kanyyr's mind as Laethur fell to the ground, he was ready to turn and abandon the fight to aid the farseer when the Warp Spiders heralded the arrival of more of their kin. The passion of the warriors emerging from the warp renewed Kanyyrs strength, heartened by the will of his people.

Kanyyr launched himself at the Daemon Prince, his full body mass tackling even the mighty Warp Warrior to the ground. He quickly consolidated and gripped the the Daemon by the horns either side of his head, he let loose a terrific blast of heat from the gauntlets, unleashing their full fury and surrounding the area around the two in a incinerating inferno of white fire. Kanyyr did not relinquish his hold on the horns and drew the head of the Daemon upwards as his golden helm soared downwards to crack against the forehead of Vilhelm with a audible crunch.

Sections of Kanyyr's armour began to peel and melt under the punishing heat, he cut off the jets ready to strike the Daemon Prince once more.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

Vilhelm was taken by surprise by the wraithlord's sudden tenacity and speed. The pain of the searing flames only served to anger him more and he fought to get the machine's hands off of his head. He thought of something to do to get at least one hand off of him and shot his talons at the powercords at its left shoulder joint, severing them completely. The arm went limp and Vilhelm tore it off in a shower of sparks letting loose a yell of rage. 

The machine sent a devastating kick into his chest and it knocked him back and into a group of orks. He killed the orks to satiate his hunger for souls and took stock of his men's situation. Already more and more daemons were pouring through the warpgate he had opened and the bloodthirster was slaughtering all in its path. He sent out a cloud of pestilence to cover his men and to decay all those who their blades touched and filled their minds with the joy of sluaghter and pain. Some he gave gifts of mutation and they fought on with renewed vigor. The wraithlord had suddenly disappeared, he swiveled his head and saw it flying at him from above. He jumped to meet it, his wings spreading wide and his fist readying for the strike, he struck it in the large crack that now crisscrossed across its head and doged a lazy punch. 

Vilhelm laughed and shook his finger at the machine, "Now would be the perfect time for you to run away oh venerable ancient. With your stone almost in my grasp I could devour you just as easily as I devoured those orks. Besides cant you see that your forces no matter how arrogant or pompous about your abilities are losing this battle?" Although the wraithlord did not move its head he could sense its psychic presence taking stock of the battle. His men, powered by the warp, were like an unending tide pouring into the orks who were now falling back. The dark eldar had not attempted a raid on the battle since their last failed and as far as the wraithlord knew his forces were gone for they were not in sight. Daemons numbered more than his men by this point and they more than tripled his force. He could feel the resoluteness within the machine waver a little, "Ah you wish to know where your witch is? It does not matter for if he is alive I will kill him too." Vilhelm began to laugh.


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## shas'o7 (May 17, 2008)

Keorlius, focused on the duel between Wraithlord and Prince, failed to notice the daemons until a bloodletter jumped in front of his bike. Cursing his unattentiveness, Keorlius decapitated the Blodletter, watching its body shrivel and fade away into nothingness. Taking stock of the situation, he turned his squadron at the daemon line, and charged. The daemons scattered under the ferocity of the Eldar, and soon they began to break and die. Keorlius was just about to turn with suddenly his Bike was slammed to the ground, knocking Keorlius unconcious for a moment. He awoke to find himself pinned under his bike, with the enourmous Bloodthirster towering over him. Keorlius pulled out his fusion pistol, and fired directly at the bloodthirster. The shots did nothing other than to anger it, and he then had his gun ripped out of his hands and flung away. Desperately, he looked for the farseer, yelling out, _Laethur, help me!_ The Bloodthirster, having just dispatched three of his squadron, turned towards him, catching Keorlius in his vast, inpenetrable gaze. He raised his axe, and moved towards him.


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

OOC: As much as I hate to do this, I'm going to have to bow out of this. If I had the time, I really would be here folks. I'm sorry for not being able to post as often as I should but work has been very hectic lately and is only getting worse the closer we get to Christmas. That being said, I wish you all the best of luck! I really wanted to be a part of this one as it looked to be quite grand but as my time is limited I'll just have to stick to keeping it simple. Again, many apologies.

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate


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## Vaz (Mar 19, 2008)

[OOC - shame to see you go, Shogun. If you ever want to come back, that spot will always be here. Good luck mate.]


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## NoiseMarine (Jun 8, 2008)

OOC: Hate to see you leave the RP Nate couldnt think of a better WAAAAGGGGHHH!!! leader than you


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## solitaire (Mar 24, 2008)

((OOC::cray)

Laethur would have attacked the Blood Thirster sooner but was unable due to being caught in a psychic battle with two Chaos Sorcerers. After a few minutes they both fell simultaneously and he turned his attentions to the cry for help and the Daemon. He threw his Singing Spear, failing to harm it but making it stumble and drop the Jetbiker.
_"Keorlius"_ Laethur said to him in his mind _"Use your Melta Bombs for I cannot harm him physically and already more psykers are beginning to assault me mentally. . ._


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## Dessel_Ordo (Jul 28, 2008)

ooc:dont worry, we understand, still a shame though...


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

Halfway through his laughing fit Vilhelm felt the earth shake beneath him. He stopped and sniffed the air, "Hhhmmmm..." he turned to his right to see a huge pillar of fire and lava shoot up through the street, throwing orks and marines into the sky. "A volcano?" he asked out loud. He turned to the wraithlord, "Give up fool."


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## shas'o7 (May 17, 2008)

Keorlius twisted suddenly, kicking the Bloodtirster in the hand. As it gazed at him angrily, Leorlius grabbed a Melta Bomb and threw itdirectly into the Bloodtrirster's eye. Keorlius jumped into his jetbike, and turned towards the great daemon. Blood was spilling out from his head, and it was wandering about wildly. Closing, Keorlius held aloft a laser lance and struck home in the eye with the point, following it up with another melta bomb. The Bloodthirster let out a great cry, then exploded, sending a wave of boiling blood in every direction, taking out several dir avengers and chaos marines. Keorlius stood true, and wore out the storm, sheltering behind his shield. Satisfied with his work, he turned towards the Chaos marines, and charged


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## NoiseMarine (Jun 8, 2008)

OOC: Villhelm I want to include the volcano in an update, the eruption hasnt happened yet. atleast it hasnt come through to the surface.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

OOC: sorry will do


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## Concrete Hero (Jun 9, 2008)

((OOC Sorry about the lack of posts guys, this week has been horribly busy))

Sparks fizzled from the shoulder 'wound' and a power cable hung loosely from the torn wraithbone. Kanyyr's remaining hand loosened from a fist and one of the Daemon's horns dropped to the ground, a vile ichor coagulated on the end. Despite the fury raging in his mind Kanyyr realised that this creature was part right. His brethren had been pushed back and even the Ork presence in the area was subsiding. And worst of all, he could not feel Laethur nearby and a pit of worry threatened to envelope him.

"_Laethur... Where are you. We may need to fall back._"

With the Farseers retinue removed, his sight on the material realm faltered slightly, he found it harder to remain focused on his surroundings. He had landed just behind _Mirror_ and, yanking it from the ground, used its shining light as a waypoint. 

Oh how he desired to leap upon this Warp apparition, to send its soul screaming back to masters that would no longer look so fondly upon it. Though in his current state, his chances where not favourable. He ran through several scenarios in his mind, some even ending with his intentional demise. Though without knowing Laethur's fate he could not through his own life away so casually. Kanyyr didnt doubt for a second that if he prevailed against the Daemon, its minions would fall on him like a pack of rabid wolves.

His mind snapped to attention as he felt a ripple of psychic energy though his mind, definitely a psyker, though perhaps not Laethur.
He directed his next message to the laughing Daemon Prince before him

"_It appears that you're Master is not as competent as he would have had you believe. He struggles with a mere Mon-Keigh while leaving you to direct his forces out here. And do not believe for a second they are_ you're _forces. He will seize control after this planet is but ashes, and what will become of the Rival he will undoubtedly see within you? Have fun playing babysitter to you're underlings. We will meet again Daemon and then I will have you're head_ 

With that Kanyyr fired a particularly intense blast from his bright lance. The beam of energy scything through the air towards Vilhelm. The flash was blinding and after eyes had adjusted, Kanyyr was taking long strides in the direction the Eldar where last seen.


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## solitaire (Mar 24, 2008)

((OOC: SHIT! I'm gonna have to wait till tomorrow to post because my _very_ length post was just deleted due to my account auto logging out and I just can't be bothered to write it all out again. . .))


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## solitaire (Mar 24, 2008)

Wheezing, Laethur stumbled through an alleyway, closely pursued by two Sorcerers. Why were all the Tzeentch sorcerers attacking him? it made no sense. Laethur tripped and fell and by the time he was back on his feet both of them were on top of him. For a single instant the air was filled with crackling psychic energy and then the Chaos followers collapsed. Finally he managed to get a message through to the other Eldar leaders, ordering them to withdraw some of the Eldar troops and concentrate the entire force on one section to minimise losses.

Suddenly Laethur realised that he was no longer in Eldar captured territory and dived to the side as he foresaw a mine going off. He looked up to see Thousand Sons moving towards him and started to pull himself to his feet. . .


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

(I'm still in this! Don't expect very regular posts for a bit, but I might be able to post regularly when I reach the Christmas holidays)

Kor'o Vash'ya Va'b'shas'ka turned and looked at Ko'tol, annoyance in his eyes.

"Still no word from the surface. Looks like we'll have to go by ourselves."

"What? Sure, we just about have the numbers to fight a war down there, but the causalities will be too high!"

"The races are far to busy fighting each other, and I'll attempt to make more direct contact. We have identified weak points where the remaining warriors are few and damaged. As the Imperials are largely surrounded it will be a case of breaking through the rear of an attacking army, through the weakened Imperial lines and then attempt to acquire something with the necessary parts, using scanners to find this something."

"Almost sounds easy, so we attacking now?"

"Yes, but no hostilities with the Eldar and avoid the Orks. We still hope to speak to them. First we will deploy all vehicles and battlesuits we have left, to quickly harry the foes and secure a landing site. Then we will land in more troops and make a full on attack."

"OK, so when's it happening?"

"As soon as you're in your XV8, the rest of the army is already prepared."

"Alright, lets get this underway."


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