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Mission Type: Rescue (1850)
Area: Hive Sebillis
Armies: Deathwing vs. Tyrannid
HQ1: Epistolary Uriel Bartholomew, with four man terminator command squad
HQ2: Master of Sanctity Nicodemus Lot. (Fleet Redemption acting Captain)
Troop1: Terminator Assault Squad
Troop1: Terminator Assault Cannon Squad
Troop3: Terminator Assault Cannon Squad
Elite: Ven Dread Assault Cannon/CCW
Heavy: Crusader Land Raider
Winged Warrior squad
Tokens were placed, and I won first turn with my Deathwing. I opted to Deepstrike what I could, and hold the assault terminators, and LRC in reserves. I decided to give him first move so as to get the last one, since none of my units would be on the board for turn 1.
Some will remember my other Sebillis batrep where I fought this same brood, Uriel being the only survivor of that battle. This is his second meeting with the same Hive, and his attempt to save the last surviving and assumed to be lost man of his old force. Sergeant Malachi of Delta Squad.
Fortress Monastary Redeemer: High Anchor
"Sir, the bloodangel scouts you requested from Geryon Base and Chaplain Caedfel have sent word. He lives." the coms officer handed the dataslate to Nicodemus Lot. He took it, scanning the information with narrowed eyes, concentration and concern etching his hard features. His eyes widened slightly.
"Can we confirm this?" he rumbled, knitting his eyebrows, the tightening of his hand on the dataslate betraying his growing excitement. "Are they sure?"
"Satellite surveilance confirms a swarm with an unusual rate of activity. They're looking for something."
"But is it him...?" Lot mused, "Could anyone have survived that for so long?"
"Sir, the Bloodangel Scouts swear it was a Deathwing marine. They caught sight of him dragging himself along the ground."
Lot's eyes flared, and the dataslate cracked and shattered in his clenching fist. "Then why did they not aid him!" he seethed, speaking to himself.
The coms officer flinched at the display and stuttered. "S-sir. Th-they said the contacts in the area were too numerous, and if they engaged against such numbers, they would never have gotten back this information to you Sir. Chaplain Caedfel himself vouches for his men."
Lot breathed a sigh and waved the com officer's explanation off. "I can see that...my frustration at knowing one of my Brothers is out there alone got the better of me. Inform Uriel immediately, we deploy at once!"
"You as well sir?" the coms officer inquired turning to go.
"If you insult me like that again Leftennant, I will kill you myself. Have my gear prepared and waiting for me."
Hive Sebillis: Tyrannid Occupation Zone +8 Hours
Buildings stood in skeletal clumps. Shattered remnants of one of the thriving Hive City's many Hab Blocs. Ropy excretions hung in dripping swaths from rubble and exposed rebar. Spawning pits and digestion crevasses scarred the streets, exuding vile gasses that wafted on the wind like the ghosts of the city's dead.
A sharp taloned claw scored the earth with a rumbling "whuff", earth cracking around the point of impact. Spatters of steaming ichor dotted about its talon. The Broodlord's eyes lensed and flickered as it blinked, and hissed. Seeming to smell the very air. It knew prey was nearby. Raw material for the Hive Collective. The hive mind ordred and the Broodlord moved with his swarm, searching the rubble of the building, overturning slabs of concrete and tearing apart decrepit rockcrete walls. A pair of Carnifexes shuddered and tossed their heads, roaring and gnashing thier teeth in restrained anticipation.
Blue spears of light lanced from the murky overcast sky, the clouds pierced as if by lances, the cloud formations swirling vortex-like around the brilliant shafts of electric light. The Hive Swarm looked up as one, tensing and hissing in anger.
The light struck the ground. Uriel Bartholomew re-rezzed, the teleporters landing him and squad Prime behind the cover of a gutted warehouse. He looked over his shoulder to the south. Two low buildings, the skulking forms of Lichtors outlined against the sky atop them, stood watch for their brood. Uriel's heart leapt in joy, but just as quickly boiled with rage and frustration. These were the very same Hive monsters that had ambushed him and annihilated his battleforce just weeks ago. The Deathwing was one of his, he knew it in his heart, and his mind. He reached out with his powers, seeking his Brother. A thought? A weak burst of defiant anger? Uriel's eyes widened in sudden realization. "Sergeant Malachi!" he breathed. "I sense his mind..he lives." Uriel gave his men a frantic look, his eyes burning with furious and horrible rage. "He must live! At all cost!"
Uriel reached out with his mind towards the Xenos brood, and could see the army in his mind's eye, layed out before him. "I have you!" he raged, reaching out to the warp to harness it. His concentration, blinded by his anger and need to save his Brother and dear friend overcame him, and the Warp mocked his mind, just out of reach.
The lictors atop the building turned their heads to stare down at Ureil's squad, tensing thier legs to leap to the ground and rush his flank. Before they could a sepulcheral mechanic voice boomed from the voxcaster amp on its ornate engraved sarcophagus. "Unforgiven! I live again, to destroy..." The venerable dreadnaught stomped north towards the lichtors, flanked by a charging squad of Terminators, each bearing the personal heraldry of Nicodemus Lot. Their lightning claws crackling with snaps of discharged energy. The massive assault cannon whirred to life, the Dread's fighting claw flexing and snapping. It roared, filling the air with thousands of high explosive rounds, the blasts tracing holes in the gutted buildings and blowing half the Lichtor on the east building's limbs to flying shrapnel.
The Assault Terminators broke west, charging in at the second Lichtor and his perch. "Tear them apart!" Sergeant Estus Bane roared, jumping at the building, his massive claws tearing out handholds as he flung himself up at the Lichtor. Rubble dropped from his armor, and he grinned making the balcony and smashing into the Lichtor. The Xenos swung a hooked and wicked talon. Estus spun to the side and severed it with a backhand of his claw. He punched the other forward into the beast's chest, and swung the other back forward burying both claws in and through the creature's torso. He heaved forward with all his prodigious strength ripping his arms to the sides and sending the Lichtor's body flying in pieces around him. Hot steaming ichor evaporating on his blades with a sibilant hiss.
Taking a moment he scanned the battlefield. He saw Uriel's unit to the northwest behind a building. Venerable Brother Sebastian stalked the other lichtor. Lot was inbound, but not here yet. The Crusader transport was nowhere to be seen. It was supposed to have met and mounted him and his men over an hour ago. They had had to run nonstop just to reach the field in time to support Uriel and his men. He keyed his vox. "Command, get reinforcements down here now! Something has happened to our Crusader transport. It's MIA."
"Copy that Sword One. Verify inbound friendlys as we speak."
"Lion...let them be quick enough."
Uriel struggled to touch the warp and harness it's power, but to no avail. He moved Prime from cover, a swarming mass of genestealers surged towards him, he heard the whine of assault cannons coming online, and the clacks of cycling storm bolters chambering fresh rounds. He saw the flapping wings of a clutch of Warriors, his eyes widened. He knew these, one still bore a gash above its eye ridge from his very own blades.
"Uriel!" Estus's voice barked over his vox. "I see him! It's Malachi! The Warp damned bugs have him in the northeast industrial complex. For the love of Forgiveness they have him!"
Uriel's mind went numb. He reached out to the Warp like a conductor of a symphony. Outstretching his hand his eyes glowed blue white, his psychic hood crackling with a surge of raw power. "RAAAAAAAARRRRRGHHH!!" Uriel screamed, the Fury of the Ancients surging in a wake of rolling power before his hand. In a razor straight line, genestealers exploded into blazing chunks. The scar faced Warrior screamed in agony as its wings and chitinous flesh was flensed and annihilated.the wave rolled over a carnifex, blackening its tough armored hide it roared more in anger than pain. Uriel snarled, he reached into himself rushing forward at the Tyranid swarm. Assault cannons on his left and right opened up, genestealers turning to smoking mist and withering debris. Ripped apart by the explosive shells.
Still Uriel drew more power.
Nicodemus Lot rose from his teleport drop. Estus and his assault terminators ran towards him. A reinforcement squad of Terminators teleported in to the west of him. They fanned out and layed down a withering storm of assault cannon rounds into a group of genestealers. He looked at his tactical display inside his helm. The reinforcement squad moved to assist Uriel to the West, the other reinforcement squad teleported to the east, and was currently mopping up a Lichtor. Venerable Brother Sebastian moved with purpose towards an industrial complex, his assault cannon blazing, his words echoing across the battlefield. 'I live to preserve the Order!" razing a group of genestealers that Lot could just make out, hunkering in the remains of the building.
"Interrogator-Chaplain!" Estus shouted, bringing his men to join Nicodemus. "They have Brother Malachi in that industrial building. They're falling back."
"By the Lion..." Nicodemus swore, charging his lightning claws and growling. "Where's my blasted Crusader? If we mount up and make for that industrial building we just might make it in time to recover him before they drag him down thier blasted Hive holes!"
"Brother...the Crusader hasn't been heard from in hours."
Lot stared at Estus, the Asssault Sergeant averted his eyes ashamed. Lot voxed the unit that had just taken out the Lichtor. "Sergeant Cortez....your unit is the only one close enough to even possibly reach Malachi in time. It's up to you. We'll distract these bugs."
"Affirmative Interrogator-Chaplain. We will succeed or die Unforgiven."
"Come Estus." Lot charged forward, passing up the nearby reinforcement squad and charging for the nearest clutch of Tyrannids. "Let's buy them as much time as we can."
Uriel roared in anger. Images flashed in his mind. Malachi torn to pieces and proccessed into the Hive. A laughing Eldar woman, her face familiar. Ulthiam laughing, his spear flashing in the sunlight....
He harnessed the Warp to his breaking point. His nose sprayed blood down his chest, veins in his face rupturing from the strain of holding so much warp energy. He ground his teeth and snarled. "MALACHI!!!"
Cortez leapt to the balcony of another building, his squad firing as they ran at the retrreating genestealers. The xenos fell in waves, torn apart by the onslaught of the Terminator's storm bolters and cannons. He swore as their prey took refuge behind a wall blocking them from view. But he had seen enough. "Interrogator-Chaplain....the Brood Lord has him...." he breathed. "Lion protect him..." he jumped from the balcony, his squad keeping step and angling to get a line of sight on the fleeing Broodlord and his genestealers.
Venerable Brother Sebastion raked fire across the complex, the retreating genestealers and Broodlord scuttling out of his view. "Retreat is useless....Retribution inevitable. I live again to destroy!" He pivoted, a Carnifex lumbering into view between two buildings. His assault cannon roared and he angled his path to take him directly towards it. The rounds staggered the beast but it shrugged them off raising two massive and sickly ridged venom cannons. The weapons hissed and fired. A pair of shards each as long as an Astartes' leg hurtled towards the Venerable Dreadnaught. Brother Sebastian skidded to a halt, quickly pivoting his torso and raising his assault cannon arm as the shards made straight for the visor of his holy sarcophagus. One flew by tearing a massive chunk into the ground beside him. The other slammed into his heavily armored shoulder, hefting him slightly sideways. The shard protruded from his assault cannon arm. The ratcheting click, and his system analysis reports indicating the xenos munition had severed his cannon ammo feed and froze the cycling mechanism rendering the weapon useless. It raised its fighting claw, the underslung storm bolter ratcheting ammo into place. "Your resistance is meaningless. Your death is immenent." the storm bolter barked, a round spanging from the armored ridge of the Carnifex's head. It hunched and hissed at the Dreadnaught. It fired again, one round passing over Sebastian's head, the other ricochetting from his other shoulder and spining him to the ground with a shuddering skid. The dreadnaught pushed itself upright. "You will be purged...." it continued, rising.
Up ahead loomed the massive armored form of a Hive Tyrant, its sweeping claws arcing before it. To it's left, what remained of a swarm of genestealers. Behind it, the impressive sight of a Scythe pattern Carnifex. Lot grinned inwardly. "This is all?" he thought, speeding forward. Lot, Estus, and Sword One slammed full force into the waiting Hive Tyrant. It's claws scythed down, and it's tail lashed at them. A Brother to Estus' right was spitted on the end of the Tyrant's scything fighting claw, and flung like a rag doll behind. Lot roared defiance, punching his claws into the joint at the creatures neck and head sections. He caught the other looming talon in his hands and deflected it aside.
Roaring defiance, Estus went berserk, his men laying about them tearing massive gouts of chitin from the Tyrant's body. The Sergeant pounded a claw into the Tyrant's chest, spinning under its body and ripping with the other claw a ragged crescent, his claws sparking and hissing as they tore the beast asunder. He crouched and spun, severing legs and the tail, bracing himself and skidding to a stop he changed direction and pounded the claws into the Tyrannid's back, grasping its spine. It shuddered, and with a wreching twist he severed the Tyrants spine his face a mask of cool triumph. His men rushed into the remaining genestealers, ripping them apart as if they were toys, even as Lot chanted the Litanies of Hate, his voice a storm of his righteous wrath. They surged over the body of the falling and dead Tyrant, past the bodies of the fallen genestealers, and crashed headlong into the Carnifex. Roaring in praise, the men from the reinforcement squad rushed to aid them, their power fists charging slowly with bursts of electric discharge.
The Carnifex roared in challenge, then swiped with its massively curved fighting claws. The charging reinforcments were cut down to the last man, reinforced ceramite plating splinering like kindling from the force of the blow.
Uriel rushed towards Malachi's position, his men keeping pace. Harnessing his psychic might he pulsed his power towards his friend's position with another roar of rage. Xenos warriors screamed and thrashed, ripped apart by his psychic onslaught. Snarling he desparately tried to reach out to the Broodlord.
"Brother Uriel look!" squad Prime's sergeant barked.
Sparing a moment to glance in the direction his sergeant had indicated, he cut his connection to the Warp. Nearby Lot, Estus and their battle brothers fought claw to claw with a mighty Carnifex beast. "Aid them!" Uriel ordered, rushing to his Commander's aid.
Sergeant Cortez opened fire on the fleeing Broodlord. "Stop them!" he barked, his marines firing desperately to slow the escaping Tyrannid down. The Broodlord looked once over its shoulder, its eyes lensing and blinking. It hissed in triumph and disappeared down a Hive tunnel, the genestealer retinue turning to hold off any pursuit momentarily. Cortez's jaw clenched, he watched helplessly as Malachi feebly raised his hand, and was dragged from site. The sergeant staggered to a halt and dropped to his knees, driving his sword into the ground and bowing his head. It was too late, Brother Malachi was lost.
Uriel slammed his blade through the Carnifex's carapace armor, and summoned the fury of his psychic powers. The huge beast lurched and juddered, blazing blue-white light erupting from its eyes and the cracks in its hide. The massive beast dropped to the ground, smoke rising from its mouth, cooked alive by the power of the Librarian.
Lot walked to his old friend, and removed his skull faced helm, dropping it to the ground. Estus moved up beside him as well.
"Sir the Xenos are retreating." Estus rasped.
Their voxes sputtered and Sergent Cortez's voice whispered through their links. "Brother Malachi is lost...we have failed. They took him down one of their holes Interrogator-Chaplain. Orders?"
Lot's face fell, and he sighed. "Stand down, it would be madness to follow them down there. Fall back and regroup on our position." he ordered, turning to look Uriel in the face. The Librarian's face was bloody and the burst vessels in his face gave him a horrible countenance. "I am sorry my friend."
Uriel's face remained stony and emotionless. "I know...."
Lot cursed flexing his lightning claws. "Where is that damned Crusader!" he seethed. "We would have stormed that Broodlord with its might. Damn!" he kicked his helm in frustration.
Uriel flexed his jaw. "I have my suspicions." he said, his voice as emotionless as his face.
Lot frowned. "Oh?"
Uriel spoke one word, but that one word was enough. "Ulthiam...."
Lot shook his head. "Damn them.", he keyed his vox, and authorized an uplink to his Fortress Monastary. "Send a Thunderhawk transport to my position. We need evac to Geryon Base."
"Roger that Commander."
"And send a gunship to the last known position of my Crusader tank. I want to know what happened to it!" he cut his connection and looked to his friend. "Uriel, if it was him, I am going to rip out his heart and feed it to him. He has crossed me for the LAST time!"
This battle came down to bad luck on my part. As my army completely stomped his Tyrranid force in. The token marker representing "Malachi" ended up being the only marker INSIDE a dang building, and lo and behold his darned Broodlord found it. My LRC was complete failure, not showing up as I rolled no less than three ones in a row on turns four five and six for it to show up. Had I had the extra speed of that thing I think I could have caught his broodlord and annihilated them with my assault terminators and chaplain. He fell back behind cover, and it was pretty much all over after that. Didn't matter how much I wrecked his force, it was a rescue mission and he had the objective on lockdown. I only had one unit dropped below half strength, and I had destoyed two genestealer units his flying warriors his Hive Tyrant, and brought his other genestealer w/broodlord group below half. If only victory points mattered. Frustrating loss, but it was very VERY fun to play.
Last edited by Chaplain Grimm; August 20th, 2006 at 17:47.
((Posting this because it's narrative and you and I post in each others narrative posts, heh, since we keep involving each other in each others plots ))
"Straight into the belly of the beast, eh brother-sergeant?" asked one of the camo-cloak shrouded watchers.
"Aye. Impressive, to say the least," replied their leader, observing the Deathwing rapid deployment via an old and lovingly maintained monoscope. The scouts perched in the upper ruins of an abandoned warehouse, lurking in the girders and shattered ouslite like scavengers in a rotting cadaver. Each was shrouded in a camo-cloak that helped them to blend in with the black, grey and white colors of the ruined hive city, and all carried suppressed bolt pistols and combat knives, each the size of a normal humans machette.
Veteran Scout Sergeant Josias, of the Blood Angels chapter, had been dispatched to Sybilla Primus by the still recovering Chaplain Caedfel as a personal favor to Uriel Bartholomew. It was a sign of the bond of respect and trust that the two warriors had to one another that Caedfel would send his master of scouts on a extremely hazardous mission to find a lone Astartes. After slogging through horrid muck and excrement in the sewers, avoiding an Alpha Legion kill-team (all manner of traitors and horrors now prowled the hive city) and finally evading several hunter broods of Tyranid bio-constructs, Josias and his scouts had caught sign of the missing Brother Malachi.
Both auspex and motion trackers had shown that their already tenuous position was about to be compromised, and so they were forced to eggress without rescuing Malachi. However, they were able to do the next best thing--send the Dark Angels information on his whereabouts, and the disposition of local Tyranids. Josias knew, as did all scouts worthy of the name: information is ammunition.
And so now they watched. The battle was now so fierce that a complete eggress would have to wait. Unfortunately, Josias and his battle-kin were not equipped for ranged combat. They would be of little use in this battle, and the rest of Task Force Falchion was being moved by Thunderhawk gunship back to the Falchion for some new, secret mission. Josias smelled an inquisitor.
Finally, Josias's old and discerning eyes saw an opening for them. The Deathwing would fight well, and, Emperor willing, carry the day. Squad Josias had done its job admirably, and now had to return to friendly lines and make it back to the Falchion.
Josias put away his monoscope and addressed his charges in battle-argot. "Angels ascendant, through the keyhole. Pattern griffon." Silently, the scouts rose from their positions and faded into the hive city once more.
((Love your batreps, Grimm. Figured I'd respond about the scouts you mentioned in a post more like yours and less like my transmissions, since I save those for battles I'm actually in :> Maybe I'll try something more like this for my next battle. Can't wait to see the rest of yours!))
((Just saw that you posted the rest. Sorry you lost, but great batrep all the same))
"Wife! You are abusing that Leman Russ model!"
Well, since my LRC didn't make it to the board at all that game, Forsaken and I decided that Ulthaim held it up, so tonight we played a sabotage mission with myself as the defender. I'll post that one up next. Then it's back to Geryon Base/Mines for me. Haha. I love the extra bit Caed. Awesome.
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Avariel perched atop an ancient imperial spire. Her wings twitching at her back. The winds at this height were fierce, and she enjoyed the crisp sting. her eyes watered in part from the bitter winds and the joy of soaring so high above the wretched, filthy ground.
She could see the swarming mass of chitinous flesh surging like a living tide below. There seemed to be no sense to the motions, no reason for its movements. It was like watching the sea upon the shore and trying to imagine that the waves themselves were intelligent. She shook her head, such a thing was beyond her comprehension. The Tyranids were a bestial menace.
Suddenly, the sky blazed to life, and she could see a small force of the heavily armored Mon-Keigh astartes take the field of battle. She could sense the familiar psychic presense of their warp-dabbling commander, but there was another on the field she didn't recognize.
"Ulthiam," she called out telepathically to the farseer, many leagues away, "The Mon-Keigh Seer is here. He seems to be searching for something."
"Uriel?" Ulthiam replied, the surprise carried into the empryean void clearly. "Let him die. I had not taken him for a fool. But I suppose even I can be wrong"
"As you wish, Seer." Avariel nodded as she withdrew her mind, watching the battle unfold. She could see the Astartes fighting like fierce beasts, their weapons scything into the chittering horde. This was only a vangaurd force, and she could tell the Mon-Keigh knew it. But the put every effort into combat.
Avarield felt a sharp twinge of familiar pain crawl up the back of her kneck. She could see the coruscating warp energy around the Mon-Keigh psyker. He was drawing too much power.
"Seer!" Avariel through the void, "The psyker is drawing too much power! He is growing reckless! The warp may consume him!"
"Don't let that happen Avariel!" Ulthiam hissed back, "There are enough already tainted by the great enemy here to choke a planet."
Avariel looked up at the grim miasma of the approaching warp storm. Visible even in the daylight hours now. "And it seems like the hand approaches to do just that, Seer."
The Autarch watched with horror at the eldritch power the Mon-Keigh used. Such disdain for the power that resided in the immaterium. This is why the Mon-Keigh could not be allowed to roam the stars. The fury of the arcane flensed the flesh from the tyranids, such reckelss disregard for the balance.
The tyranid swarm leapt into a crevasse, disappearing beneath the city. She could tell that the great devourer had already turned most of the hive's sewer system into an impregnable fortress. She almost laughed as the Mon-Keigh prepared to follow them into the depths.
She could almost see the warp-taint on the psyker from here. She cursed under her breath. Ulthiam was right, something had to be done. She grabbed her helm, and soared into the sky. And if she had to do it herself, then so be it.
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* "I'm Significant!" -screamed the dust speck
* "Call me old fashioned, but an evil ascension to power just isn't the same without someone chanting faux Latin in the background."
Nice, Nice, Nice.
Grimm, ChaplainCaedfel and Forsaken. Nice work here. All were good reads. I'll be Searching your other respective BatReps for more.
[COLOR=DarkRedI got my tournament t-shirts at mathhammer.net[/COLOR]
Nice post, I like the style. Rough loss though. Keep up the good work
Great Batrep, I really like the narrative form.
So, you play a Deathwing list, eh? I'm intrigued (relatively new to the hobby, playing Chaos ) How does an all-terminator list work for you? Is there any other army that can do something similar?
i admit, your report was amazingly touching, and really a great piece of work
i probably read you passage with more enthusiasm than even reading black library stuff
i was also wondering if its true that deathwing can mix up asault terminators with nomal terminators in a squad?
Deathwing is the only all terminator army that there is. Yes it is real fun, and has a steep learning curve to playing it. You're outnumbered EVERY battle, you are limited some times, due to the fact of the points cost. Can't really make that plausible of a list under 1500 pts. Which means NO combat patrols...meh. Space Marine forums has TONS of posts on them, as does the Order of the White Sword clan post on this site.
As for mixing assault and regular? Nope. Maybe once the new DA codex arrives, until then...same as everyone else.
Thanks for the comments by the way. Hopefully some day I'll actually write myself a nice book. heh.
I don't know much to anything about it, but I've heard people mention a Lysander Strike Force, or something like that? Apparently using a special deep strike rule with the Captain Lysander special character? It doesn't seem to be an all-Terminator list, but a mostly Terminator list supported with Scouts with Teleport homers?
Can someone explain this more clearly or is this in the new SM Codex under Captain Lysander?
[COLOR=DarkRedI got my tournament t-shirts at mathhammer.net[/COLOR]