PDA

View Full Version : The Emperor Protects!



MajorWesJanson
15-05-2011, 02:48
Brother Farraday glanced quickly around the battlefield, seeing the desperation of the situation. One of a small unit of Grey Knights investigation Kalios III for taint, the strike team had been surprised when the warp vomited forth a swarm of orks. The strike team had joined a band of Imperial Guard who were attempting to strike at the heart of the invading enemy, but the battle had turned against them.

Clouds of black smoke obscured the battlefield, a mix of burning vehicles and corpses. Both of the strike team's Storm Ravens were twisted ruins, lost to ground fire. The surviving guard were trying to pull back around their single Baneblade, retreating from the advancing wall of clanking orkish walkers and a horde of fierce nobs.

Farraday himself was fighting a desperate battle. with the loss of their air support, the Grey Knights had been scattered, fighting individual battles. Farraday was wearing one of the precious suits of Dreadknight Exo-armor, but even that had not prevented a mob of orks from surrounding him and dealing several dolorous blows. Sparks flew from torn cables and shattered pistons squealed. Finally he managed to strike down the ork nob who had led the attackers, crushing him in a mighty fist.

Momentarily clear of the fighting, Farraday glanced around, seeing ork kans and dreadnoughts chasing down the tattered remnants of guard squads and the occasional surviving chimaera. He took to the high ground nearby and began to charge the teleport array, hoping to regroup with some of his brothers. He didn't have the chance. Before he could tunnel through the warp, a terrible racket of grinding and squealing, coupled with a growing shadow, heraled the arrival of the Big Mek leading this warband. Seeing the shining form of the Dreadknight armor, the Big Mek had charged forward in his command vehicle, a mighty stompa. Designed to bring ruin to entire armies, the fell creation had already destroyed the heavy weapon teams the guard had relied on, as well as crippling a number of tanks.

The scrap engine made impressive speed up the hill. Wounded, with damaged armor, and a partially charged jump array, Farraday saw no reason to move. His duty, wearing the Dreadknight armor, was exactly this- to fight the impossible- monstrous tyranid beasts, Foul greater daemons of the warp, and here, now, this clanking war machine. As the stompa crested the summit, Farraday began the creed.

"I am the hammer. I am the mail about his fist, the shield before my brothers, the sword of the righteous. I am the light of mankind, the flame in the darkness, the death to xenos and chaos alike. I AM YOUR DOOM!" The voxcaster in his armor amplified his words, so his bellow could be heard across the battlefield. Humans and orks alike paused their bloody struggle, all eyes turning to the shining figure as the metal behemoth took a final step and revved its massive chainsword.

Though the stompa had charged, Farraday was faster. His limbs felt weightless, his pain dulled, his thoughts blazing. He felt the warmth in his mind that told him that the Emperor himself was lending him strength. Before the giant could begin to swing its massive combat arm, the Dreadknight had struck. Grots screamed and scattered as one fist wrenched loose several of the rusting armor plates, revealing the bizarre and illogical inner workings. Sparing no thought to the impossibility of the stompa actually functioning, a second blow ripped deeper into the stompa's gut, tearing loose a massive bundle of conduits and cables. A bright flash blinded Farraday as electricity arced across his armor and cogs scattered around, the motive system tearing itself apart.

As the stmpa stumbled, it's massive reactor snapped free of its housing. Lesser meks and gretchin alike were vaporized as the mix of plasma and molten metal powering the stompa liberated itself from any pretense of containment. The Big Mek far above in the head scrambled free as the fury of the venting reactor slagged his idol to the gods. Armor sloughed off and the massive arms broke free, tumbling to the earth. The reactor finally hit critical mass, and the death engine was transformed from the pdire of the orkish warband to a cloud of molten debris raining firey shrapnel. Several orks found them selves too close to the blast and were killed by the expanding shockwave even as they cheered for the massive destruction. Other warriors were forced to dodge flying splinters as a stand of trees was obliterated. Even the hill Farraday had crested was gone, vaporized in the fury of the reactor breach.

As the fireball climbed into the sky, a mushroom cloud mocking the fungoid physiology of the orks, the smoke cleared. Farraday stood unharmed, suffused with a golden glow. The Big Mek had survived as well, sparking technology and sheer luck preventing his death. As the ork technologist clambered to his feet in dismay, a pair of shots rang out. Far across the battlefield, Ancient Lyle has sighted the beast and exploded its skull with a pair of psychically imbued autocannon shells.

Where lesser beings would celebrate the cataclysmic destruction of so great an enemy, Farraday just turned to survey the battlefield. While the heart had been ripped out of the ork army, the guard was still reeling from an assault by a band of nobs who had sought to revenge the destruction of their idol. picking his way out of the newly formed crater, Farraday saw his duty was not yet done and charged the nobs.
"I am the hammer..."








Based on a small apoc battle. 1500 GK and 2000 IG vs 3600 Orks. The Stompa charged my Dreadknight, who was down to two wounds. Two hits were rolled, both penetrating the stompa. My first damage roll was a 4, damaging its drive. The second was a 6. Chain reaction, dropping a structure point and rolling again with the same dice. Another six. Followed shortly by a third and fourth roll of 6, all on the same dice. A fifth six, this time on the cataclysmic damage table, saw the stompa produce an apocalyptic explosion, wounding and damaging everything within 11 inches. The Dreadknight made it's save...with a 6. The next 10 minutes were spent in disbelief, amusement, and dismay on the part of the ork player.

Needless to say, the Emperor smiled on Brother Farraday, who will be gaining a stompa kill mark painted upon his shin.

Son of Sanguinius
15-05-2011, 04:55
Nice. Epic imagery. Thanks for that.

The only thing I'd like to point out is... "I AM YOU DOOM!" Emphasis, well, both of ours, I guess. ;)

MajorWesJanson
24-05-2011, 09:21
Fixed. I'm using a keyboard that is 10 years old, and spellcheck was quite fine with the spelling, so I didn't even notice.

WER are all flaky on this computer :(