Just A Little Nerdiness

Narrative battle 2

Written by Game Master Kee, based on our second KT game.

The battle's din was deafening.

Major Dutch, commander in the 727 City Wolves, crouched in the shadow of statue glorifying a long forgotten Space Marine hero, his back pressed tightly against the rough stone of its plinth. Long rows of similar statues formed avenues that ran the kilometre length of the Hall of Heroes; the avenue separating Dutch and B Company was currently filled with murderous volleys of metal. He could see Guardsman Dillon frantically gesturing for his squad to flank the attackers, and divert some of the fire so that Dutch could advance. 

This was vitally important, as Central Command for the defense of the city of Osium needed to be briefed on the emergence of several xenos races that seemed to be all working at odds to each other. The Hall of Heroes was the most convenient entrance to the Administratum Primus and the most direct route to Central Command; unfortunately, it seemed that many had also thought this, and now the City Wolves were desperately trying to disengage from a battle which had pulled in several factions. 

That the xenos were not in collusion with the heretic Space Marines besieging the fortress world of Inferus Secundus was abundantly clear. Dutch recognized the form and shape of the aliens known as the Aeldari - their slender forms, sinuous and lithe, moving with a strange grace that was almost hypnotic to watch. Their strength, unhinted at by their streamlined armour, but more than a match for any unaugmented human. Their strange rifles sending hailstorms of monomolecular-edged slivers arcing though their targets with a keening whistle; the efficacy of which was not to be denied, as Dutch had already seen several Guardsmen flayed to the bone.

Uttering a half-remembered litany from the Guardsman's Uplifting Primer to refocus himself, Dutch risked a glance around the corner of the statue, and looked upon an Angel of Death itself. A heretic Astartes was advancing up the avenue. Armour that shifted colour strangely, from blue to teal to green and back again depending on the vagarity of the light, was marked by a device evocative of a coiled serpent with many heads. Perhaps this legionnaire was a commander, judging by a case that he carried; clearly a spoil of war, valuable in whatever inscrutable way. Gifted by the Emperor himself, so long ago at the beginning of the Imperium before the Marine had succumbed to the fell powers of Chaos, his gene-enhanced bulk nearly filled the avenue. Though not as well maintained as a loyal son of the Emperor, and of a far older Mark of armour, the Marine's ceramite plate was proof enough against the Aeldari weapons. 

A blue-armoured Aeldari elite rushed in to attack the Space Marine, his advance almost hypnotic to Dutch in it's fluidity. Somehow, over the deafening roar of battle echoing off the high vaulted ceiling of the frescoed Hall, he heard the alien speak to the heretic. 

"Mon-keigh! Relinquish the Blackstone! Your kind are only tools of war, you cannot comprehend the consequences of what that fool Abbadon has yet planned for it --"

The azure Aeldari meant to dismember the legionnaire, thrusting his long halberd with a flourish; the Marine had no such embellishment, neatly parrying the warrior's bladed staff with the casing on his bolter and delivering a round at point blank range in return. The damage inflicted by the bolter shell was terrifying to Dutch, and he could not tear his eyes away.

"Major! Major!"

Dutch's head snapped around; Dillon was readying his squad for an action.

"Major, you need to update Colonel Wolf on what has happened in this sector! My squad is going to cover you, and Sargent Apone's squad will take you right to the doors of the Hall. Get ready!"

Dutch did not have any time to ready himself. In just the time it took for Dillon to relay his instructions, the Space Marine was among them. Bellowing war cries dredged from a primal place, where the human need to survive is kept alongside the fear that keeps him alive, the Guardsmen fell upon the huge form of the legionnaire. Ten Guardsmen with bayonets fixed probed for weaknesses where ceramite plates overlapped. Dutch felt as though he had viewed this scene before, soldiers hanging off of every limb of the legionnaire; in any other situation, he would have laughed at the madness of it.

Ultimately, these attempts by mortal men were futile when faced with a demigod. Too close to use it's bolter, the Marine instead dropped the case it had been carrying in it's oversized fist. That fist now crackled with power, and it pistoned into a hapless Guardsman right in front of the Marine; the power field wreathing the hand turned the man into a pink mist. The legionnaire had no mercy, striking down a Guardsman with every swing of his arm, a visage of death unto himself. 

Apone was screaming at Dutch to move; in a moment of insanity, he scrambled forward to clutch the case that the Marine had dropped. If the City Wolves could deny the ruinous powers a prize that they desperately sought, so much the better for the defense of Osium! 

Turning to run, now encumbered by the case, Dutch pumped his legs as quickly as he could. Apone and his squad sent fire ahead and to each side to clear their way; miraculously, the majority of the squad made it through alive. The Guardsmen began to distance themselves from the fighting. Running as a group, the squad made it's way through a dimly lit portion of the Hall. 

The Guardsmen could see a pillar of light ahead. Meant to seal the Hall of Heroes from the Adminstratum Primus, a wan light passed through a huge arched set of doors and glinted like gold from the statues leading up to them. The Guardsmen laughed, or as best they could as they were so out of breath. They were almost to safety!

However, a strange susurration, just beyond the edge of the light spilling from the open archway, began to creep into the soldiers awareness. Suddenly, Guardsman Gorman screamed and was pulled into the inky blackness beyond the avenue of statues. Then Hudson. Then Vasquez. Each time, as they were taken with a blood-curdling scream, glimpses of chitin and long slender claws were snatched from the murk. The Great Devourer was in the writhing shadows beyond!

"Genestealers! Keep moving! Don't stop moving!"

It was now a race against time to reach the doors. Seven soldiers, fifty steps. Five soldiers, thirty steps. Dutch's legs ached, his arms burned from lugging the case dropped by the Space Marine, and his heart pumped battery acid through his veins. He found himself alone at the final steps to the arched set of doors.

Slapping the skull rune that would seal the entry, the heavy doors began to slowly swing shut. In the narrowing rectangle of light thrown out into the Hall of Heroes, Dutch saw a terrifying sight; dozens of Genetealers emerged from the darkness to rush the inexorably closing doors. All too slowly, the doors ground shut. Dutch unholstered his laspistol, determined to see his duty to the Emperor though to the very end. 

The lead Genestealer leaped for the opening, it's chemical-fueled bio-mass carrying it across an impossible distance in the blink of an eye. A long, hooked talon reached out to skewer Dutch -- and the heavy gilded doors of the entry slammed shut, slicing the bladed arm from the Genestealer's body, spraying Dutch with it's foul ichor.

Battle 1 Narrative

Written by Game Master Kee, based on our first KT game.

Victory for the Imperium!

The Lions of the Emperor are loyal sons of Rogal Dorn: proud, dutiful, and above all, meticulous. That is how elements of the 5th Company of the Chapter came to be sweeping the bombed out Administratum sector of the contested fortress city of Osium, alert and wary for enemy sappers or infiltrators behind the lines of the Imperial defenders. The battle brothers slowly advanced up the rubble-strewn street, bolt rifles covering every avenue of advance. And yet, Sargent Darnath felt an unease, as if something was watching his squad, from each shadowed alcove...

As the Space Marines advanced into a small plaza, they came across another squad of soldiers. They were resting at nervous ease at the foot of a tall statue of a forgotten Imperial hero. The gene-enhanced warriors took in the new element in their environment in an instant: they were human; they were outfitted well, although their equipment were of different marques than the Imperial Guard standard issue kit; and, most importantly, the Space Marines noted that their livery carried the number "144" - certainly different in colour and numbering than that of the 727 City Wolves, the Guard unit defending Osium!

"Halt, soldiers! Identify yourselves---"

Sargent Darnath had but barely spoken the words before a Melta charge was tossed into the plaza, exploding and sending super-heated shards of razor sharp masonry flying in all directions. The strangely uniformed Guard unit immediately threw themselves into cover, though the shredding wave pinged harmlessly off the ceramite plate of the Space Marines. In the next instant, another Guard unit was flooding into the plaza, and confusion reigned supreme. Unaugmented humans sent searing bolts of las-fire in all directions; ignited promethium sent rolling waves of fire over what scattered cover there was; blinding lines of plasma fire answered, the fury of a star reducing many of the combatants to ash in the first moments.

Sargent Darnath's enhanced physiology continued to process all of this information at an accelerated rate. He saw his Reiver Lieutenant, Brother Lydus, swamped under a clutch of Guardsmen, looking to find the soft seals of his armor with their bayonets. He saw battle brothers Nereus and Oreas unload their bolt rifles into targets in disciplined sweeps across the battlefield, the mass reactive shells of their weapons wreaking terrible tolls on the unarmored humans thronging the plaza. Above all this, he saw the familiar pattern of the City Wolves! Raising the external vox of his armor to maximum, he began bellowing orders to his squad and that of the City Wolves, attempting to cut through the fog of war and establish order.

The newly arrived Guardsmen quickly understood the bellowed instructions of the Space Marine and, a credit to their unit's training, formed a fighting line alongside them. In great loping strides that ate up the distance, Sargent Darnath dropped into a crouch behind a low wall that sheltered a group of Guardsmen.

"Guardsman, what is your unit's purpose here?"

"My lord," the Guardsman did his best to make the sign of the Aquila while cradling his las-rifle. "Colonel Erastus Wolf directed us to find and engage a detachment of renegades that had been spotted supporting the invaders! We've been trying to run them to ground, and have finally brought them to battle..."

"I see. The Lions of the Emperor are now joined to the battle; we will destroy these blasphemers."

Sargent Darnath rose and vaulted the wall in one fluid motion, advancing on the heretics at a dead run. He blink-clicked the retinal display of his power armor to enhance the image of the original group of guardsmen, now trying to retreat through a side avenue of the plaza. Bellowing a benediction to the God-Emperor, he raised his bolt pistol to fire upon them.

However, before he could loose a shot, the ground beneath the Space Marines erupted, great billowing clouds of dust filling the plaza. Strange, metal hands reached up out of rents in the tiles of the plaza, reaching and grasping, hauling great armored bodies up. Dully glinting silver carapaces, covered in dust and mud, dragged vicious looking weapons out of the ground. These weapons were put to immediate use, baleful fire tearing from their barrels to flay targets all around them.

In the choking half-light, eerie eyes glowed with an eldritch light. Though completely alien, the intelligence - and above all, the hate - were plain to see for all.

Not one to be placed on the back foot, Sargent Darnath urged on the Imperial defenders.