To listen to the audio, click here!
The battle dawned with the praetorian guard staged for a tally ho style assault. With them some tyranids that curled up next to their sleeping bags in the night and snuck past their guards purred in anticipation. Low rumbling in case of the hunkering beasts the size of the mighty macharius vulcan “Sir Mulch-a-lot”, who seemed to be gunning its throaty engines in ever rising crescendos as they competed for best growls. Against them a chaos army sprawled in tight formations and muttered in their dark tongues.
The praetorian guard charged forward with the buglers giving cadence. The command squads and guardsman squads advanced and hunkered down behind the battlefield centerpiece in ambush. A very stealthy ambush the enemy would surely not see or hear as they relayed orders in in the native bugle sound, for it was not yet bugle migration season. The macharius positioned on their right flank and began dumping hundreds of rounds of ammunition into the cultists atop hill 2 and mulched them hard despite their magical shields. One cultist survived. The heavy weapons team in the back made sad, sad attempts at using their mixed weapons. No one noticed their presence except the bird that took a frag missile up their tail pipe a good 100 yards off target. The huge tyranid beast sprayed armour piercing bugs and acid with moderate effect. The veterans pet the termagaunts in the safety of hill 5
In response to being showered in buddy juice, the lone cultist darted off towards a more relevant objective, that also just happened to not be staring down 15 heavy machinegun barrels. The rubric marines began the slow journey of creaking their way to the west flank of the middle ground, seemingly heedless about the praetorian guard hiding a small platoon in the middle of the field. More cultist poured back onto hill 2. A mind control made the sergeant throw a frag at the macharius. His men thought the sorcerous mad, and when the grenade actually damaged the tank they laughed out loud. The lord commissar attempted to execute a guardsman in a similar mind control, but his plasma shot was foiled by a pain stim. As was his power sword.
The praetorians finished tallying their hoes in the centerfield and began digging foxholes. Sir Mulch-a-lot shifted to the west flank and began pouring rounds into the rubric marines. Their shields and armour were resilient, but shear fire power won out the day and they began to crumple. A frag missile took down a pair of rubrics.
The chaos gods were not pleased and began to wrap their forces around the center. Be’lakor flew into the centerfield and smashed one of the tyranid monstrosities so hard it reeled backwards into a swarm of gaunts, crushing several. Intense bolter fire tore several gaunts apart. Obliterators dropped nearby. Sort of. Tzeentch felt some bizarre and randomized change was necessary. They got to hustle their bodies over in a very Nurgle jiggly kind of way.
The praetorian bugler popped out of his fox hole and gave the most exciting bugle note of all; run into the open, fire point blank using superior rank and file shooting, and probably die for the emperor. The 2 guardsman squads cut east and west in a cunning pincer move. The surprise attack mowed down several rubric marines, further supported by the macharius. The command squads took a tea break in the foxholes to watch things unfold, munching on crumpets. They tyranids poured fire into Be’lakor but he just refused to be injured substantially because he didn’t feel like it today.
The rubric marines continued their slow grinding advance. Literally, complete with rust falling off. And obliterated the guardsman squad before them. The terminators charged the east squad and failed to remove 3 of them. Then received a painful poke from a stoic guardsman bayonet for their efforts. Be’lakor hit the macharius like a ton of bricks, violently removing an important piece of machinery from the side. The tank sputtered and grinded badly but could still move. Its overwatch ineffective. It retreated and mashed 5 gaunts to a pulp in its haste.
The command squads did their duty. The platoon command squad fired upon and engaged the might be’lakor with chainsword and knife while the company command squad engaged the remaining rubric marines with fire support from the macharius vulcan. Even then, ahriman and his brethren numbered 7, a far cry from their 20 but still a grave threat. Angsty rifle butts and chainswords removed one and the lord commissar engaged in a one on one dual with the sorcerer champion. He landed 3 devastating blows but was denied his triumph by the trickster god. He took a stave butt in response but the emperors shield granted him similar impressive resistance. The company commander took 2 staggering blows and was driven to his knees. The standard bearer and medic rallied to his side. The platoon commander died in one on one combat with the greater daemon and the squad fell back.
The obliterators advanced along the east flank and hammered the gaunts. Only the fox holes dug by the veterans protected some of them on hill 5. The venom crawler crashed into the veterans and began picking at them with knife legs with some success. Be’lakor ripped the heavily wounded tyranid beast in half and laughed madly in triumph. The lord commissar took a blow and returned a surprise parry that stunted the champions spell and turned him into a blob of ectoplasma.
The praetorians knew their time was short. The macharius turned its fury on the terminators and violently removed them from existence. A krak missile picked off the sneaky cultist from hill 2 trying to claim an objective. His smoking boots were just out of range of his ascension from cultist to greater daemonhood. Probably. The lord commissar went one on one with Ahriman. He was seriously wounded but dealt a wound in return. Each staggered on their feet but kept dueling. The veterans continued to be picked off but held their ground.
Be’lakor smashed the veterans and sent them flying. The tyranid lynch pin was literally blown apart by maximum obliterator fire after sly magic stole the broodlord’s protection suddenly. And the lord commissar was robbed of his dual when Ahriman sensing his own demise hit him with a bolt of change and turned him into a chaos spawn.
The imperial and tyranid forces fell back, the macharius leaving trails of brass casings as it provided cover fire. Chaos stole the field with a minor victory.
Alternate 40k Rules 