The howling frozen winds of Alfrost swept away the smell of
decay and rot. Eres Imunditious stood on the frozen ridge overlooking the valley
below.
In the half light, the armor of the Imperial whelps blended
into the blue-gray ice. If his eyes were the ones he had been born with, he
would probably never have seen the mewling fools that called themselves
the Sons of Russ.
ah Leman Russ…
Imunditious thought back to the foolish Grand Crusade. He
remembered when the Death Guard and the Space Wolf legions shattered the last
defenses of the Vitigian Theocracy. The implacable advance of the Death Guard
supported by the wild charges of the Wolves destroyed even the illusion of escape
for the defenders. Mortarion and his Curatrix smashed open the nave of the Theocracy's Ecclastellum, and the Theocrat was run down and slain by Leman Russ as Vitigia was bloodily brought back into the Imperial fold.
He remembered how later that night Russ caroused
through the bivouac, creating a moving victory party that swept up all it
encountered. He remembered how Russ sang and drank, and how he laughed with
scorn at the dirgesongs of Barbarus. How he told everyone that living on Fenris
was the true measure of an Imperial man, and how his drunken revelry swung from
belligerent drinking contests to open weeping when he heard some puerile skald
sing a tale of the wolf homeworld.
Imunditious felt the frozen skin on his lips crack as he
smiled. Ten millennia and the memory of a drunken, weeping Leman Russ still
brought a smile to his face. He turned and gestured to the sorcerer, Ulceratio Taint.
“Bring them through from the warpkage. Let us hunt wolves
this night…”
For this battle, the Space Wolves were defending their starport on the planet of Alfrost. We agreed on 1500 point forces, and the special rules for the campaign meant that any dangerous terrain tests caused a wound on a roll of a 1 or a 2, and no weapons could "get hot". We didn't have an iceworld board to play on, so storywise my Death Guard is attacking the Space Wolves near the equatorial tundra.
The mission rolled was "Purge the Alien" and the deployment rolled was a Vanguard Strike. The primary objective for this mission means that you get a Victory Point for each unit destroyed. Since Joseph brought 11 units (including the transports) and I only six (with my Lord and Terminators in reserves), I would start the battle outnumbered two to one.
The Wolves won the roll for first turn, and set up with a free Skyshield platform. Joseph was running a Runepriest, three Long Fang squads (all with missle launchers, ooph!) two Grey Hunter squads (with meltas), three Dreadnoughts (assault cannons and missle pods), a Landspeeder Typhoon, and five Razorback transports for all the marines (two with twin-linked assault cannons and three with las-plas combo). It looked like this:
The fact that the Wolves had 19 missile launchers aimed my way from the get go didn't bode well for my chances.
I was running a chaos sorcerer (mastery level 3) attached to a six man Plaguemarine squad, a seven man Plaguemarine squad (with plasmaguns), a Helbrute (with a twin-linked lascannon), a seven man unit of Havocs (yay four autocannons), and a lascannon heavy Predator. My force was set up on the opposite corner of the board and looked like this:
Nurgle was obviously smiling on me (or maybe it was just gas), but I won the roll to seize the initiative and took the first turn. My initial plan was to get across the table as fast as possible with my two Plaguemarine squads and fire up the las/plas Razorbacks. I figured if I could get across fast enough, I might be able to roll up the flank, assault the Long Fangs in the building, and keep it between me and the Runepriest, Dreadnoughts, and Grey Hunters.
In my initial salvo, my Helbrute and Predator was able to kill two of the Razorbacks, but my Plaguemarine squads were trapped out in the open and it was time for retaliation.
I had moved the sorcerer's squad out in front of the building during my first turn, but the Space Wolves were having none of that. Three squads of Long Fangs fired 15 krak missles into the squad killing four of Nurgle's finest, and forcing me to pull them back into the cover of the building during the next turn.
Even though the sorcerer was pretty much out of the game, having a psychic mastery level of three did mean that I was able to sit in cover and shut down almost all of the Runepriest's psychic attacks during the game.
During the next few turns the Space Wolves tried repeatedly to destroy the Chaos Predator that racked up an impressive number of kills (two Razorbacks, two Dreadnoughts and a couple of Long Fangs). Additionally, the Havocs took minimal casualties and eliminated the Typhoon and a Dreadnought.
And on Turn Three, this happened:
Admittedly, I couldn't charge, and neither my bolters nor my Reaper Autocannon did any damage to the Long Fangs on the Skyshield, but I did set myself up for a charge in Turn Four. I also set myself up for several missile launcher shots to the face (which killed one of my Lightning Claw termies) and a Jaws of the World Wolf psychic power (which slipped past my boosted Deny the Witch roll, killed the other Lightning Claw Termie, but bounced off the Invul saves of my Lord and the rest.)
In my next turn, my Lord charged the Runepriest and killed him right in his wolfy face, and the rest of my terminators put the beatdown on the Long Fangs who broke and fled to the ground, hoofing it to the closest table edge. Staying close enough over the next few turns, my Lord and retinue kept the remainder of the broken squad fleeing even though the Razorbacks with Assault Cannons and the other Long Fang squad did their best to kill them.
In the end, I had only lost my Helbrute and Predator (pretty much the game MVP for killing so much and soaking up so much fire). The Wolves lost three Dreadnoughts, three Razorbacks, a Typhoon, a Long Fangs squad, and the Runepriest. The spaceport of Alfrost now belonged to Nurgle.
The icy wind suddenly dropped to nothing. What had been a howling gale now whimpered across the battlefield.
Those damned Long Fangs grabbed the Runepriest before Imunditious could take him prisoner. Rolling over the edge of the Skyshield, the whelps executed a brilliant tactical withdrawal into the coming dark. Just like cowardly dogs...
Again, Imunditious smiled. It mattered not. The warpsmith had assured the warlord that the Space Wolf Razorbacks could be recovered and pressed into use as transports for the Praesidio Mors, and some of the pups that survived were already wan and feverish. Their gaunt cheeks and bright eyes told the tale of Nurgle's touch ravaging their superhuman physiques. If they were worthy enough, perhaps they would find some way to serve the Pestilence Lord's designs in the Corvus sector.
If not? Well, the nurglings must be kept fed.
Crusade of Fire cover image property of games workshop. Used without permission.
For this battle, the Space Wolves were defending their starport on the planet of Alfrost. We agreed on 1500 point forces, and the special rules for the campaign meant that any dangerous terrain tests caused a wound on a roll of a 1 or a 2, and no weapons could "get hot". We didn't have an iceworld board to play on, so storywise my Death Guard is attacking the Space Wolves near the equatorial tundra.
The mission rolled was "Purge the Alien" and the deployment rolled was a Vanguard Strike. The primary objective for this mission means that you get a Victory Point for each unit destroyed. Since Joseph brought 11 units (including the transports) and I only six (with my Lord and Terminators in reserves), I would start the battle outnumbered two to one.
The Wolves won the roll for first turn, and set up with a free Skyshield platform. Joseph was running a Runepriest, three Long Fang squads (all with missle launchers, ooph!) two Grey Hunter squads (with meltas), three Dreadnoughts (assault cannons and missle pods), a Landspeeder Typhoon, and five Razorback transports for all the marines (two with twin-linked assault cannons and three with las-plas combo). It looked like this:
 |
| The dreads are parked up under the skyshield and two squads of Long Fangs are deployed in the building. |
The fact that the Wolves had 19 missile launchers aimed my way from the get go didn't bode well for my chances.
I was running a chaos sorcerer (mastery level 3) attached to a six man Plaguemarine squad, a seven man Plaguemarine squad (with plasmaguns), a Helbrute (with a twin-linked lascannon), a seven man unit of Havocs (yay four autocannons), and a lascannon heavy Predator. My force was set up on the opposite corner of the board and looked like this:
 |
| If you're thinking "There's not a lot there." You'd be right. |
 |
| You can see the sorcerer's squad on the ground floor, and the Havocs on the upper levels. |
Nurgle was obviously smiling on me (or maybe it was just gas), but I won the roll to seize the initiative and took the first turn. My initial plan was to get across the table as fast as possible with my two Plaguemarine squads and fire up the las/plas Razorbacks. I figured if I could get across fast enough, I might be able to roll up the flank, assault the Long Fangs in the building, and keep it between me and the Runepriest, Dreadnoughts, and Grey Hunters.
In my initial salvo, my Helbrute and Predator was able to kill two of the Razorbacks, but my Plaguemarine squads were trapped out in the open and it was time for retaliation.
 |
| Hot lascannon and missle vengence from the Space Wolves |
Even though the sorcerer was pretty much out of the game, having a psychic mastery level of three did mean that I was able to sit in cover and shut down almost all of the Runepriest's psychic attacks during the game.
 |
| Dreadnoughts on the march! |
And on Turn Three, this happened:
 |
| Hooray for Deep Striking with no deviation! |
Admittedly, I couldn't charge, and neither my bolters nor my Reaper Autocannon did any damage to the Long Fangs on the Skyshield, but I did set myself up for a charge in Turn Four. I also set myself up for several missile launcher shots to the face (which killed one of my Lightning Claw termies) and a Jaws of the World Wolf psychic power (which slipped past my boosted Deny the Witch roll, killed the other Lightning Claw Termie, but bounced off the Invul saves of my Lord and the rest.)
In my next turn, my Lord charged the Runepriest and killed him right in his wolfy face, and the rest of my terminators put the beatdown on the Long Fangs who broke and fled to the ground, hoofing it to the closest table edge. Staying close enough over the next few turns, my Lord and retinue kept the remainder of the broken squad fleeing even though the Razorbacks with Assault Cannons and the other Long Fang squad did their best to kill them.
In the end, I had only lost my Helbrute and Predator (pretty much the game MVP for killing so much and soaking up so much fire). The Wolves lost three Dreadnoughts, three Razorbacks, a Typhoon, a Long Fangs squad, and the Runepriest. The spaceport of Alfrost now belonged to Nurgle.
The icy wind suddenly dropped to nothing. What had been a howling gale now whimpered across the battlefield.
Those damned Long Fangs grabbed the Runepriest before Imunditious could take him prisoner. Rolling over the edge of the Skyshield, the whelps executed a brilliant tactical withdrawal into the coming dark. Just like cowardly dogs...
Again, Imunditious smiled. It mattered not. The warpsmith had assured the warlord that the Space Wolf Razorbacks could be recovered and pressed into use as transports for the Praesidio Mors, and some of the pups that survived were already wan and feverish. Their gaunt cheeks and bright eyes told the tale of Nurgle's touch ravaging their superhuman physiques. If they were worthy enough, perhaps they would find some way to serve the Pestilence Lord's designs in the Corvus sector.
If not? Well, the nurglings must be kept fed.
Crusade of Fire cover image property of games workshop. Used without permission.
