004: Nuzzgrond's Arc

Nuzzgrond's Arc

M41.788050713

"Plateau Sigma" he read aloud, his voice rough through lack of sleep and the pervasive, grinding dust. "Exposed, unpleasant, undefended – and in the arse end of nowhere. On top of that, we're going into drag out one man?" The Caef pinched the bridge of his nose as he handed the report back to a robed, cadaverous menial. Ersatz Cleave sighed then screwed his mouth up sarcastically. "Dare I ask why he stayed there in the first place, Adept? I would have thought ork artillery wrecking the place would have alerted him, even if the evacuation order didn't." 

The strategos had the good grace to look faintly embarrased. "I'm sorry, Cleave. The Proctor doesn't recognise Guard High Command, and you're the only force of note within a hundred miles. Three days forced march will have you in position, and he should come quietly. We think he's just picking over the ruins for clues on the whereabouts of Martialis Vor." The Caef brightened a little at the mention of the lost war engine.

"That's well – hopefully he's found something. Another Titan or two around here is what we could do with, if we want to pen the greenskins in long enough for orbital bombardment." The strategos nodded almost impercepitbly, the cabling around his neck bunching a little. 

"On that note, Colone- I mean, Caef; you'll be pleased to hear your boys won't be going in alone." His smile broadened and warmed, and he took a  dataslate from the menial, still hovering nearby. Validus have deployed the Warhound Aiax to support you. Seems the Legion have their own dogs sniffing around for their lost son.'

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Two companies of infantry are dug in along the old road, as armour and mechanised formations begin to arrive. The Proctor is nowhere to be found – and orks have begun to arrive! They mass on the south, pushing up the highway to the triumphal arch.

 

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A warband of shoota boyz advances into the cover of the main avenue, and claim an anti-aircraft site.

 

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A sentinel screen does little to slow the advancing orks. Oakleaf Company come under fire, but dug-in and secure, they reply.

 

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The Warhound Aiax and the armoured company pull themselves up the escarpment and begin pounding the warband in front of them with bracketing fire.

 

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Nuzzgrond himself races forward and shoots up Oakleaf company. Having risen up out of cover to trade fire with the other warband, they are caught flat-footed and suffer a number of casualties. In a tit-for-tat response, the Regimental HQ – Beechbough company – advance. Caef Ersatz Cleave leads the attack.

 

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Action on the right flank is evenly matched... but Nuzzgrond has a trick up his brocaded sleeve.

 

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The Imperial side dithers, the infantry and sentinels spending too long picking through worthless ruins for the Proctor, while the tanks and Titan pick at the orks ineffectually.

 

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The orks strike. Silverbirch company, encamped under the triumphal arch, come under heavy fire from big gunz and racing warbands.

 

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Nuzzgrond plays his ace. Stompy and the Stompas trundle up the road at the double, splintering the rockcrete under their weight. Pausing to bracket Silverbirch company, the mob disappears in a crcakling, flashing cloud of oily smoke and fyceline as they open up with every weapon at their disposal.

 

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Sentinel pilot 'Gunshy' Graves reports heavy losses amongst Silverbirch company. "I think they're falling back, Caef – or at least, what's left of 'em!" Some scattered return fire strips the Supastompa's lone powerfield.

 

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Calls for reinforcement in the centre go unheeded from the right as Beechbough and Oakleaf are tied up in a roiling, ongoing engagement with Nuzzgrond's shooty boyz. The warband between the buildings charge forward into a storming defence from Oakleaf. Despite their courage, casualties from earlier mean they are wiped out by the orks, though supporting fire from Beechbough means the warband emerges battered. 

Without pausing, Cleave directs sustained fire on Nuzzgrond's formation, causing enough casualties to ensure that the Warboss' formation is unable to capitalise on the gains of the earlier engagement. Mauled but eager to fight, Nuzzgrond's warband destroys a number of chimera transports and infantry, but are forced to withdraw. The warboss shakes a defiant fist at his opposite number.

 

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Falling back, Nuzzgrond bellows into the squawk-box and orders the stompa mob forward. The Engines turn east and fire upon the beleaguered Beechbough company. Disrupted by the swaying movement of the walkers, few hits are scored, but more men and machines are wrecked or killed.

Eagle Echo, the Stormtrooper special forces formation, runs up in desperate support, their plasma rifles picking at the warband. A single dreadnought is caught in the crossfire and erupts into belching black smoke.

 

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Lief-minor Enchion restores a semblance of order amongst the shaken Silverbirch company, and leads them out of the ravine to the east. Enchion is determined to rescue Cleave and orders the unengaged armoured company to double forward.

 

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Meanwhile, the Proctor is discovered. Caef-minor Llewell reports finding him skulking in a burnt-out building. Shaking his head, he leads Stoutbranch company forward, where they are quickly surrounded by orks in a minor siege.

 

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Waaaagh!

Shrugging off heavy fire from the stormtroopers and Leman Russ company, the stompa mob storms forward into the terrified Imperial Guardsmen of Beechbough company.

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Mutual carnage. With Stompy the Supastompa listing and heavily damaged, and the unfortunate loss of the final stompa, the orks are broken. The deffdredds turn to flee, leaving their human prey mauled and combat-ineffective.

As he continues to fall back, Nuzzgrond grins. His plan begins to fall into place...

 

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Aiax, notably reluctant to advance earlier, leaps into action as reports of the Proctor's crackle over the comm-net. Llewell scowls at the Titan even as it bails Stoutbranch out by igniting the warband opposite them with its inferno cannon and vulcan mega-bolter.

 

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Watching from orbital drone, the Strategos' mouth falls open as he realises the orks' intentions. Having drawn the Imperial army over to the tightly-clustered left flank, forcing it onto the defensice, they had then rendered the humans unable to respond through targeted strikes. Even now, highly-mobile ork outrider and armoured formations race forward to claim the objectives in their half of the battlefield and strike into the undefended right. Nuzzgrond has paid a heavy price in ork blood, but he's painted the field red with dead Lamb's Worlders – and there's always more orks!

 

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Unkgor, leader of the blitz brigade, ordered the column to a halt by the abandoned drop pod. Popping the hatch, he pulls himself up to sit on the turret ring and watch the oomies retreat. Smirking with glee as he sees his old rivals in the Stompa mob limping backwards, he banged a fist on the cab until Wotsit the gretchin passed up the squawk-box. Unkgor reports in to Nuzzgrond, peering at the drop pod as he does so.

"We got it boss. Good news, by da way – looks like you were right. Dere's definitely some beekies somewhere 'round 'ere. Maybe dey'll give us a better fight dan dese oomies, eh?"

Ork victory

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