The Wrap Up (Hope you like text!)

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Kinne
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The Wrap Up (Hope you like text!)

Postby Kinne » Mon Mar 15, 2010 4:37 pm

Jotunheim had become a veritable hell on earth. Much of the city had been crushed and shaken apart by the asteroid’s impact, and most of what remained had been blasted from orbit or destroyed in vicious street fights. Only the central spire of the once-great hive remained mostly intact, though orbital strikes had blown out large sections of the structure. Orks ran rampant throughout the ruins, accompanied by fallen marines of the traitor legions, dark eldar warriors and cackling daemons. Throughout the city, the heroic defenders were being overrun, and outside the city, Alliance forces that had moved in for relief found themselves bogged down on the outskirts, or barred from entering entirely.

In the city center, one tight knot of defenders held firm. Anchored by the Alliance high command, the most veteran and die-hard soldiers managed to form a small cordon around a handful of key areas. Cult bodies were piled up on all sides as wave after wave was repelled. But ammunition ran low, and each man lost could not be replaced. Reinforcements were en route, but would they be on time?

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Toegnasha was pleased. After weeks of frustration, he was finally in his element, the chaotic world of combat. It had been a glorious thing. The humans were still reeling from his daring attack a week later, and wherever his boys pushed forward, they fell back or died. Sure, it had been costly, but after proving his strength here, he could easily form an even greater Waaagh that would take this entire sector. First, though, there was one last group of humans that he needed to deal with.

Each attack thus far had failed. Toegnasha himself had been in other parts of the city, wreaking terrible carnage, but he felt that even his presence might not give his lads enough inspiration. So he ordered his mechanics into action. All night the echoes of their work mixed with the roar of gunfire and the howling of the dying. It was a beautiful cacophony that almost brought a tear to Toegnasha’s eye. While they worked, Toegnasha received another of his painful visions, longer and more vivid than any before. The enemy was approaching. A massed fleet was poised to engage his own, much depleted from one major engagement, not to mention their suicidal attack runs on the planet itself. Those massive walking machines of the humans were going to arrive, and he knew his battered force couldn’t stand against them. He also knew that the humans were hiding something. Something powerful was buried below the city, not far away, and Toegnasha knew he had to have it.

By morning, all was ready. Toegnasha assembled all of his boys, and noticed a group of those shiny metal things that looked like humans were marching nearby. He didn’t care so much, as long as they didn’t interfere with his plans. He had noticed that they were pretty good at killing humans, though not as good as his boys. Ignoring them, he ordered his troops forward. A seemingly endless wave of green flesh surged forward, with ramshackle trucks and battlewagons jostling for position in the line. Deadly kans and dreads waddled their way through the crowd, and deffkoptas and bikes roared with throaty voices as they pushed forward. But most impressive of all were two hulking shapes striding through the wreckage of the city. Two massive constructs, one only half the size of its companion, marched alongside buildings smaller than they. The sight of these two hulking, god-like giants filled the orks with greater fervor than even the promise of carnage to come could do.

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At the Alliance command center, the situation was grim. Though the Angels of Purity were inbound with reinforcements, they were holding on by their fingernails. It was going to be a close run thing as to whether or not there would still be anyone to reinforce. Brother-Captain Tercius, Commissar Ashamar K’Lell, as well as higher ranking members of the Black Templars, Space Wolves and Ultramarines, conferred over their best course of action. It had already been decided to abandon any hope of maintaining a solid defense over the entire city, and they had withdrawn the bulk of their remaining forces around their command center and supply depot. What portion of the population that could be evacuated had already been moved into the main spire of the hive city, and it was around that last bastion of defense that their ragged forces were arrayed. The fighting had been vicious and bloody, but through the combined might of these vaunted heroes of the Imperium, the line had held. Until now.

The news cast a black cloud of despair over the high command, a despair so dark that it would have crushed the will lesser men. A massive force of orks had broken through the line, led by the dread warboss himself, and supported by two massive ork warmachines. With bloody determination, the commanders assembled their personal guards and made for the breach, fully prepared to sell their lives to plug the gap. The enemy force was met at the raised inquisitorial compound.

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Inside the massive hulk of a stompa, Toegnasha grinned. They had forced their way through the enemy’s outer line with ease, sending the pathetic humans scurrying in all directions. He knew that his goal was near. He also knew that no time could be wasted. Falling comets of debris and bright flashes in orbit revealed the clash between fleets in the atmosphere. Leading one force ahead to secure a cluster of shuttles to provide for a quick getaway, he sent the other straight at the cowering humans in the massive hive tower to distract his enemy. He sent some of his trustiest lads straight at the entrance to the inquisitorial fortress to secure the item that the gods had led him to.

Toegnasha’s attention was snapped into the present at the sound of explosions all around him. Peering out of a viewport, he could spot a cluster of enemy vehicles moving straight at him, lobbing massive shells or stabbing at the hulking form of his stompa with bright beams of laser fire. He simply grinned, and flexed his massive power claw. Ordering his boys to keep pressing forward, he slowly made his decent into the bowels of the stompa, squeezing his bulk through cramped spaces and shoving any grots not quick enough to make way to their deaths in the machine’s grinding gears. Finally, he reached the rear exit hatch, where his trusty mega-armored nobs stood waiting. Giving them all a wicked grin, he slammed a metal-clad fist onto the hatch release, and with a loud clang, the metal dropped to the ground. Forming up behind their leader, the nobs joined Toegnasha in bellowing their blood lust as they stepped out into the open.

The sounds of battle flooded their senses, with gunfire and explosions ringing all around them. To his right, Toegnasha spotted a group of those oversized humans called terminators making their way towards him. To his left, one of those hulking machines that carried a dead human inside. With a wave of his mighty claw, he sent his nobs after the terminators, and made a rush for the dreadnought himself. Bellowing his rage, he charged the machine, his own hulking form matching it in size. The fight lasted seconds. While the dreadnought did manage to land a blow as Toegnasha swung his massive claw around, it did little more than give the mighty warboss a serious headache. With primal glee, the ork dug his claw deep into the adamantium armor and ripped his foe apart. Tearing off the cover of the protective sarcophagus, Toegnasha looked at the shriveled husk of a once-great warrior and spat in disgust.

The victory was to be short lived, though, as all around him his foes spat death into his great horde of boys, and they started to fall in great numbers. With a roar, the warboss turned and strode into the fray. His rage was terrible to behold, and he thought of the many times his roar had sent his enemies scurrying. This was not the case. One of the humans, wearing finely crafted, bulky armor, stepped right up to the warboss in a clear challenge. It was a titanic clash. Toegnasha rattled the skies with his terrible bellowing, and made huge sweeps with his massive claw, scoring and crushing the humans armor. Undaunted, his foe struck back with fists of crackling energy, denting his armor and even driving him back.

Through the red mist of his rage, Toegnasha slowly came to realize that he was losing the fight. When struck with this realization, most beings would panic and seek some way out, but not Toegnasha. He was the chosen of the gods, and if the gods saw fit for him to fall, he would give them a show to remember. Stepping into his enemy, he pressed the attack, but his foe was ready for that. As Toegnasha raised his claw high, ready to smash his opponent to the ground, but with the speed of a striking viper, one of those crackling fists smashed into his shoulder, all but separating his arm. Howling in pain, the warboss struggled to make his attack, but the servos and gears in his arm were all smashed, and the weapon refused to move. Seeing his opportunity, the space marine pummeled Toegnasha’s body with a chain of punches, until finally felling the warboss with a powerful strike to the face. Blackness took Toegnasha.

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Within the cramped confines of the land raider’s troop compartment, Captain Tercius received the best news in weeks. The ork warboss had been felled by his counterpart from the Ultramarines. With that centerpiece out of the fight, the ork mob would, he hoped, become even more disorderly and lose enough of its impetus for his men to crush this attack and hold out for reinforcements. Around him, his hand-picked squad of veterans were reciting litanies of faith and divine wrath, led by Brother Marcus, the Second Company chaplain. The land raider itself thrummed with power and rage, and shook with the impacts of enemy fire. Reports were coming in from all over the battlefield, but it was a mixed bag of good and bad. The enemy warboss had fallen, and the massive enemy warmachines had both been stopped. The entrance to the hive complex was well-protected and the enemy was nowhere near it. But the battle-brothers accompanying Tercius had paid a terrible price in lives, nearly all of their vehicles were destroyed, and if they could not take the shuttle bay just ahead, the vile enemy would escape the Emperor’s wrath.

The time had come. Tercius ordered the transport forward, and gave Brother Marcus a solemn nod. Making their way to the front of the compartment, Tercius and Marcus stood by the hatch, ready to rush through and into the maelstrom of battle. The squad formed up behind them. A voice called out from the driver’s compartment, struggling to be heard over the roar of the engines, “Thirty seconds to disembarkation!” Flexing his powerfist in anticipation, Tercius began reciting the Litany of Blessed Wrath, waiting for the doors to open. They never did. With a blinding flash, the land raider around him simply vanished. A direct hit had struck the petrochem engines at the rear of the vehicle, the resulting explosion caused the lascannon power banks to overload, and the centuries-old war machine was torn apart. Thrown clear of the exploding vehicle, Tercius struggled to his feet, his ears still ringing and his vision still blurred. Without wasting a moment to see how many of his squad were still with him, he awkwardly bounded toward the enemy, shouting the Emperor’s name.

Tercius did not have to go far, for the enemy was close at hand. A group of silver-skinned machines, firing bolts of sizzling green energy, swooped towards him. They were an odd amalgam of transport and warrior, their upper torsos skeletal and man-shaped, but their bodies were like great ovoid discs. Tercius cared not what they looked like, and with another great war cry, brought his mighty fist down to smash one to pieces. His war cry was joined by others, and Tercius was relieved to see that Brother Marcus and most of his squad had survived the destruction of their conveyance, and joined him in the fight.

They made short work of the enemy, and without a moment’s hesitation, they rushed into the nearby shuttle bay. Within they found more of the detestable abominations, these walking on two legs like a macabre parody of man. Through his comm, he could hear Marcus’ disgust as he recited litanies of pure hate. His squad waded into the enemy, cutting and cleaving and smashing them aside until none stood before them. Brothers fell around him, but there was no time to check their wounds, no time to mourn the fallen, for the enemy was at hand. Joined by their brothers from the Ultramarines, Tercius and Marcus cleared the entire bay of the enemy. As the last one fell, a curious thing happened. The littered corpses of the enemy disappeared in a flash, leaving no trace of their presence save for the scratches and burn marks that covered the space marines’ armor.

There was little time to wonder at the mystery. The ground began to shake under the titanic thread of some great and terrible monster. Rushing to the bay doors, the Angels of Purity looked up to see the gargantuan bulk of a squiggoth, a horrendously overgrown beast of the enemy. Already orks were clambering down its thick hide, firing wildly as they came on. Tercius raised his storm bolter and unleashed a torrent of shells, their mass reactive cores shredding armor and flesh, but it would not be enough. He had only two men left from his squad, and the staunch Brother Marcus. But even if they slaughtered this new mob of orks, they would be crushed under the titanic tread of the beast that had borne them here. Tercius steeled his soul, and with a prayer to the Emperor prepared to meet his end. It turns out his preparations were unneeded.

There was a great thunderclap and a bright flash. Suddenly, from seemingly out of nowhere, one hundred red-and-white figures in tactical dreadnought armor appeared on the battlefield, all kneeling as though in prayer. As one, they stood. Vicious lightning claws were unsheathed, and mighty thunder hammers began to dance with fields of lethal energy. An ululating cry of “For Sanguinius!” erupted from one hundred bass throats, and the Angels of Purity First Company charged. Swept up in the fury of the moment, pulled from the blackest despair to the brightest hope, Tercius charged, his own cries echoing that of his brothers. The Angels had arrived on Jotunheim, and there would be a reckoning.
"Every man is a spark in the darkness. By the time he is noticed, he is gone forever; a retinal after image that soon fades and is obscured by newer, brighter lights."

User avatar
Kinne
Master of the Administratum
Posts: 4821
Joined: Wed Dec 09, 2009 11:21 am
Location: Western Mass

Re: The Wrap Up (Hope you like text!)

Postby Kinne » Mon Mar 15, 2010 4:43 pm

Well, the campaign's finally over. It was a long six weeks, but I hope everyone who participated had fun. The above post, long though it be, isn't the entire story, but I wanted to get that up for people ASAP. This week, I'll be adding in a few more bits here and there to focus on the aftermath of the battle. If you have your own story you'd like to add, please don't hesitate to PM or e-mail me about it.

For those wondering who "won" the campaign, well, there's really no answer for that. The Cult forces made it to the city and caused untold damage, so extensive that the planet itself may never be resurrected. However, the Alliance did succeed in defending the planet. The attack was repelled, and the great force that emerged from the Tears of the Saint was largely destroyed with the arrival of the Angels of Purity and the Legio Gemina. And what was it that the orks were seeking down in the bowels of the inquisitorial fortress? Stay tuned, and I'll try to answer those questions!
"Every man is a spark in the darkness. By the time he is noticed, he is gone forever; a retinal after image that soon fades and is obscured by newer, brighter lights."


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