Siege of Ophelia VII

Ophelia VII is the crown jewel of the Segmentum Tempestus and once was the seat of the Adeptus Ministorum. Billions of pilgrims flock to this acnient world daily to get into one of its hundreds of thousand cathedrals and worship the God Emporer. Hundreds of Billions of tithes roll into the Ministorum's vaults from the sermons preached here, from cash to more exotic trinkets. Some of these trinkets hold more power than even the mighty Ministorum knows about, and it is one of these artifacts that has brought war to Ophelia VII.

Huron Blackheart has learned from his Chaos benifactors that a ring of great power has somehow ended up on Ophelia VII. This ring may act as a conduit for warp energy. With this single item, Huron will be able to conistantly substain a daemonic horde for long periods of time away from the warp. With a never tiring army beside him, Huron's dream of getting revenge on the loyalists dogs would be at hand.

But Ophelia VII's defenses is too great for even the great Tyrant of Badab to handle alone, and has called upon Duke Sliscus to pay up his debt. The leader of the Sky Serpents was saved by Huron right after the Sky Serpent's famous realspace raid on the Segmentum Tempestus Segmentum Fortress. Duke's floatilla was being pursuded by the several space marine chapter fleets, Huron's Raiders came to the aid of the Duke, and together they decimated the pursurers. Duke said that he would repay the favor someday, and that day has come. Although Duke is uneasy about supporting the siege, he stands by his word, no matter how twisted and fickle it might be.

As we speak the combined Sky Serpent and Red Corsair fleets creep into the Ophelia System. Undetected due to quick and quiet raids conducted by the Sky Serpents onto the outward listening posts, the Tyrant has the element of suprise. Will Chaos rule the day? Will the Duke turn on his would-be comrades? Will the Imperium hold to one of its most valuable Shrine Worlds? Let the Siege of Ophelia VII begin!

Welcome to the Siege of Ophelia VII Gameplay thread. This is where the narrative of the battles and stuggles will take place. New results of your actions will be posted after everyone has made a post. Let us begin shall we.

The combined Chaos/DE fleets are still on their approach, and their warriors are preparing for the first invasion. Unbeknown to the invaders, Ophelia VII is currently playing host to a Tau continent with an Ethereal on board to negotiate a dispute that happened with the Ministorum and the Tau Empire. Their resources arent made for a protracted combat, but this is vital infomation unknown by the Tyrant.

Current Positon of players

Cavash- you are still aboard their respective ship, and are currently preparing for the assault.

Kabal- you are still aboard their respective ship, and are currently preparing for the assault.

Valkia- you are still aboard their respective ship, and are currently preparing for the assault.

Nox- you are still aboard their respective ship, and are currently preparing for the assault.

Raneth- your squad was deposited several weeks ago to place several webway devices in key locations around the outskirt of the main hive city. You have just placed the last one, and are see a small PDF patrol of 10 squad members searching through the half delapidated buildings for the source of a sound they heard. Your squad hasnt killed anyone in weeks to keep hidden from Mon-kiegh dectection.

Ruke- Your squad was left on the Manta while the Ethereal Aun'Yr'Eil is in conference with the Planetary Governor of Ophelia VII. You are annoyed that instead of quickly finishing their business and getting off the polluted world, that your Ethereal went to see the Governer for a social gathering, but Aun'Yr'Eil assured the entire bodyguard detatchment that these social gatherings had to completed in order to speed up their dealings. You currently are blowing off steam by checking over your stealth suit systems.

Vegas- "Two For Flinching" was sent out into the wasteland with 4 chimera's of the PDF to investigate a strange object some pilgrims stumbled apon. You are currently wondering how you got yourself into such a boring detail.

Captain- You are currently hanging off the arm of Inquisitor Dragonov as he mingles through the Planetary Governor's Party for the Tau coming to Ophelia VII. You are bored out of your mind, but the Inquisitor wanted to get a closer look towards his prey. He has been assigned to make sure that no trickery is being done by this Ethereal, and that his meeting stays just about the complication between the Tau Empire and the Ministorum, not about getting Ophelia into the Tau Empire.

Kali'shima will be attending the party as Katarina Simonov, historian. A tall, shapely brunette in an outrageously red dress, carrying a black leather handbag, and a silver aquila necklace as her only jewelry. Her job is to distract attention from the Inquisitor and draw it to herself, particularly from the Tau delegation. To that end, she has emerald green eyes this evening, and has altered her facial structure in small ways that, in a Tau woman, would bespeak intelligence, compassion, and, most importantly, beauty. Talking history is sucker's bait for Tau: they respect an empire with roots, and love to think about the big picture, believing themselves to shaping current galactic history. Manipulating Tau would be interesting if it wasn't so easy. Fortunately, Kali had a lot of practice in maintaining an engaged, carefree demeanor.

Her radiant persona leaves the Inquisitor free to watch, to listen, to judge. Meanwhile, Kali gets a good look at almost every guest's face.

"There is no better being to detect when someone is in disguise than a Callidus, save perhaps a Harlequin of the Laughing God"

Another time, another Inquisitor, but the aphorism rang true. If there was treachery afoot, the Inquisitorial duo would need to be five steps ahead of it. Good thing she brought her handbag.

Kais Lel quickly takes command of her squad.

"Shas'len'ra, see to the drones, make sure they're in top shape. If anything goes off I don't want to find out one of them has a problem in the last minute.

Gal'leath, monitor the goings on at this "social gathering", if you notice anything out of place, even the slightest detail, inform me at once.

Kauyon Mont'ka, I want you to do a comprehensive scan of that compound, I want every airvent, electrical conduit, and any secret passageways plotted. Be cautious to stay underneath their radars though, the last thing I want is to jeopardize Aun Yr'eil or this mission. Keep Mon'wern'a and Shi updated, they're point men this mission.

Mon'wern'a and Shi - Cloak and stand ready just outside the ship. If anything happens, you're first in. Protect Aun Yr'eil, find cover and wait for reinforcements. If anything happens to Aun Yr'eil, you better hope that a bullet finds you, because what I'll do will be far less kind...

This may be a peackeeping mission, but these imperials will turn on you as soon as it become beneficial for them to do so. I want this mission to be as cool as ice. You all have your orders, now on the bounce!"

Without a word the entire stealth squad quickly moves to their positions, starting work on their assigned tasks. Kais Lel takes up a position watching the ships external cameras for any sign of threat to the manta itself.

Kuva languished in the saddle of his Jetbike, taking in a deep breath of Greenvine fumes; a new strain he'd been aching to sample ever since he left the Webway.

Mission.. *huff...* complete!

He passed the inhaler to Bann, who was eagerly awaiting, before he in turn passed it over to Jhero. The rest of the crew were circling closely overhead, patrolling the building they'd parked on top of, only the keen eyes of Shaar and Gry'lu designated to cover the approach routes further away. It was from them came the first call of contact. The others, even the new guys, instantly took cover behind buildings, their Bikes hovering in place, containing their pent-up aggression admirably despite going for weeks without bloodshed. Jhero didn't seem to know what to do with the Greenvine, only Kuva's disbelieving glare convincing him to discard it in favour of the prospect of killing. Noob, the gang leader thought, he won't last long in this outfit. Then, via his comm: Reinforcements?

-Negative, the twins answered in perfect unison.

OK boys, get yourselves back down here. These soft Mon'Keigh will know the terror of our Bladevanes! Expecting the command, Bann had already revved up his engine, and wasted no time in taking off with a blood-curdling howl. The fresh recruits were duefully guided to their positions by Rakka, who had agreed to monitor their progress in return for a larger cut of the proceedings. Defending ground was no unfamiliar prospect to them; the streets of Commorragh were rife with turf wars and on several occasions they'd rode out to claim their own. Jhero lagging behind him quite a bit, Kuva got to his designated spot just as the brothers flew in to do the same.

Alright guys, you know the drill. Wait for my signal, then unleash hell! Kuva looked to Rakka, who despite her stoic demeanor was visibly annoyed as she once again had to point out to Ryna how to transition to his booster jets without raping the Bike's gear box. Bann laughed derisively, but Kuva chose to ignore the small scene. The promise of hot blood and tortured souls was in the air, and he intended to enjoy every second of it to the fullest.

From the cover of a scyscraper, Kuva will lead his posse in a V-shaped Bladevane formation once the (bulk of the) Mon'keigh are out in the open street; claiming the utmost tip for himself and Bann.

The quivering chill of anticipation was palatable on the Serrated Embrace, long known as the personalised Raider of the Blood Harlots; as the communication reports had sent everyone on highs of blissful arrogance and dreams of slaughter. The Tau were known to abhore close combat, prefering to keep themselves at distance as it was 'barbaric'.

'Barbaric?, Barbaric will mean so much more once it starts...' Dra'seth stared amused as they viewed video history of the Tau.

As Dra'seth removed himself from his hand crafted throne aboard the ship, he looked over his minions, fellow painbrides of his Cult, but still to him his minions. The twins Pel'Ris and El'dyna were the first to capture his attention, as both had decided to keep up with the attempts to fool anyone with which Wych was which. It worked out beautifully as a distraction against some of the more uptight brides, since their little game always had a wager, depending on the twins mood.

A smirk passed over his lips in memory the first time the twins tried it on him, the first evening after he became Syren...the videos of what happened must still be in circulation by now, some poor foul must of died watching it by now, since there is no better way to eliminate an enemy then if he's...distracted.

However, before he could amuse himself with seeing what the remaining brides were up to, a member of the crew rushed up to him, informing him that they were soon to arrive.

"Excellent" waving off the crewman, "Soon we'll bless this waste of a planet with our presence and then the fun shall being..."

Quarilla sat in his temporary throne listening to the sound of Klaives clashing below him. Tarquet had been foolish enough to suggest he could outfight Chura'hial and the inevitable, tedious duel had begun. As Klaivex he was forced to oversee duels of honour, though he already knew the outcome. Even with the fields deactivated on their weapons, Chura'hial still looked as though she would kill Tarquet.

It would not be long before she challenged him for position of Klaivex, he almost relished the chance to pit his ability to kill against hers. Yet that time was not now, now they were meant to steal themselves for the great and mighty task given to them by their "glorious" Archon. Massacre peasants.

One might say that Quarilla was permanently angry, but this task was so far beneath their shrine that it seemed an insult. That the Shrine of a Million Murders, that twice had had it's Heirarch's challenged and killed by Drazhar himself, would be used to blend cattle for some fools promise to a mon-keigh made his blood boil.

An agonized shriek blared from all corners of the ship, the call to arms. Quarilla heard the pace of the duel change as Chura'hial stopped playing and moved to kill her foe. Her first blow forced his guard up, the second pushed him off balance and the third slightly caressed Tarquet's throat between the plates of his armour. Blood pooled on the floor benath Tarquet's twitching body as the remaining Incubi marched off to join the rest of the invasion force.

Xan'tha licked her lips in anticipation for the raid, it had been to long since she had waged war against the mon'keigh and now she was about to initiate a strike against the holy centre of the mon'keigh at the behest of duke Sliscus himself. This was going to be a good raid.

 Xan'tha made her way down to her squads deck, scattering slaves who fought to get out of her way, more than one were to slow and were decapitated by Xan'tha's personal wych blade. 

She thought back to how she had earned a place on the raid, Sliscus had aranged a show of skill between the gangs of Commoragh, through tooth and nail the shadow bolts had proved that they were the undisputed greatest flyers of the competing hellions. 

Xan'tha emerged onto the flight deck of the ship and took in the sight before her, 19 hellions clad in full black and purple bodysuits stood by their skyboards, tweeking and personalising them before the raid, only two on the deck showed their flesh faces, Xan'tha herself, and Andrash, the longest serveing member of the gang, and one of the few hellions who even came close to Xan'tha's skill on a skyboard, because of this he had been allowed to face fow face to face, but truly so Xan'tha could keep him firmly in her sights. 

In a crisp voice Xan'tha made her presense known to the rest of her squad. "Shadow Bolts, prepare for a drop insertion, this world will experiance terror at our hands.

The time to strike is at hand. From the darkside of Ophelia VII 3rd moon comes the combined fleets of the Tyrant of Bahdab and the Serpent. Within minutes orbital defense stations set up around Ophelia are completely destroyed. The few Imperial Navy ships scattered around the airspace are forced to retreat by shear numbers and try to regroup by the next planet. The Tyrant's Personal Battlebarge "Venonomous Birthright" moves over Ophelia VII and disgourges thousands of Dreadclaw drop pods and Troop Landers.

On Ophelia VII it was a different story. The hundreds of webways placed around the planet by the Duke's scouts pop open, and thousands of troops and vehicles fly out and start wrecking havoc. Reavers gleefully fly around lopping off heads of civilians, while the more conservative warriors start to set up ground bases to coordinate their assaults across the planet. Archons, Succubi, and Haemonculi alike all rally their forces into key assaults to break the back of the PDF quickly and effeciently, and to cut off the supply lines to the captial city, Hive Thor.

So far everything is going to the Tyrant's plans, but Duke does not trust Huron's intentions. Huron's battleplan was for the Dark Eldar forces to cut off Hive Thor from the other cities, and to sow havoc and discord among its inhabitants. While this was happening Huron's armies would set up a parimeter around Hive Thor, and begin the bombardment. Huron's elite would drop pod into the city, and take key facilities. Duke noticed a large consentration of drop pods around the Govenor's Palace, and realized that must be where Huron is looking. Duke has sent in some of his best to "help" Huron with his search

Players Location:

Cavash- Your Dreadclaw lands around the Govenor's Palace in the heart of Hive Thor. You have been given the strict mission to assault the Govenor's Palace and hold it at all cost until Huron makes planetfall

Kabal- You were unleashed in Hive Thor's slum districts. Your goal is to sow havoc and discord among the masses. As your portal opens, you come out to find a crowd of people staring in awe of the blue vortex

Valkia- You are one of the squads sent by Duke to assist in the capture of the Govenor's Palace. Your goal is to slaughter to your hearts content, but stay away from Huron's forces, as they might not be all so happy to see you.

Nox- You are one of the squads sent by Duke to assist in the capture of the Govenor's Palace. Your goal is to slaughter to your hearts content, but stay away from Huron's forces, as they might not be all so happy to see you.

Raneth- Your Reavers slice through the PDF like a power sword through armor. Sadly one was more aware than the rest and was about to duck. As you sweep around for the kill, the portal you just dropped opened up and out walked Archon Xerial, the Archon Duke Sliscus put in charge of all the ground forces. He shoots the remaining guardsmen and gives you the order to head towards the city walls and stop the gun emplacements.

Ruke- You get a transmission from the Emissary crusier in orbit. Ophelia VII is under siege. Before it was forced to withdraw, its payload of mantas and orcas were able to unload with the rest of your Cadre. You are given strict orders by Captain Orv'la to retrieve the Ethereal and Commander Sher'a, who are both at the Govenor's Palace, and bring them back to the Airport, where the rest of your Cadre will hold until they can withdraw. Just as you suit up and your squad reconvens on you, a Dreadclaw lands on your landing pad and a huge Chaos Dreadnaught thrashes out of it.

Vegas- If you still want to play, PM me and I can add you back in

Captain- A servant walks up to the Inquisator and proceeds to tell him about the fight overhead. Just as he is informed, so are the Ethereal and the Govenor. The Govenor confronts the Ethereal and accuses him of bringing his "Chaos Allies". Tensions rise and both Honor Guard and Palace Guards pull out their concealed pistols, and a stand-off begins.

Scryex- Your Squad was paying omage to one of the more holy cathedrals on Ophelia VII when a Dreadclaw dropped through the stainglass ceiling. A squad of Chaos Marines came running out indescrimately shooting at the crowd. Your squad dont have their jump packs with them, as they are outside in your rhino transport, but all of you kept your weapons with you. Also there is a Confessor standing up at the pulpit who pulled out his plasma gun and started to preach and try to rally the crowd around to force out the marines.

A crowd of people gathered around the blue portal that had open in the middle of the street. 4 members of the Viper gang pushed their way to the front, autoguns held at their sides. A hush fell over the crowd as the men neared the portal. The portal started to glow more intensely and as the gang members got to within arm’s reach, 6 flat discs flew out of the portal, a second later they detonated amongst the front onlookers, and the whole world went to hell.
Xan’tha emerged from the portal in a blur, the barrels of her Phantasm grenade launcher still smoking as she hurtled through the crowd decapitating and maiming members of the crowd with her skyboard, behind her, 9 other shadow bolts attacked as well, hell glaives finding their marks to cause as much pain as possible. Andrash laughed manically as unleashed his splinter pod into the tightly packed massed people there.
Unseen by the screaming crowd another portal opened and the rest of the shadow bolts streamed out, hitting the crowd of screaming people on the opposite side of Xan’tha and the remainder. Stuck between the 2 masses of screaming murderers many of the crowd members simply collapsed and cowered on the floor until members of the shadow bolts finished them off.
10 minutes after the portal had opened the crowd had been utterly annihilated; almost 1000 bodies of men, women and children littered the floor. To complement these bodies, 4 whole autoguns were among the dead.
Xan’tha dismounted and walked amongst the bodies, drinking in the agony of the dead bodies, the other members of the Shadow bolts circled overhead, occasionally breaking off and attacking a target that had the impudence to still be alive around the dark Eldar. Only when Xan’tha had glutted herself on the suffering of the dead did she allow the other Hellions to feast. In the next 2 hours, 13 almost identical scenes were found; 1000s of dead civilians, no weapons of any kind found, wounds inconsistent with the chaos attackers or even the tau delegation, and even more importantly, no sightings of any enemy capable of committing these atrocities. The rumours began to spread, the myth was born, and the Hellions of the Shadow Bolts had started the process of which they had no equal.

"Looks like those Imperials have finally shown their true colors! Ok men, you know the drill! Bring all of the firepower of this Manta down on this monstrosity! I want it blown off this landing pad... Keep this location secure for the rest of the crew arriving from orbit.

As for the rest of you, activate your stealth and the drones and bale out! We're getting Yr'eil out of there."

Kais Lel and her team cloak and run out of the hatch as the Manta opens fire on the "Imperial Dreadnaught". After exiting the Manta, the team gives the machine a wide berth and heads in the direction of the Governors Palace. Mon'werna and Shi take point and scout slightly ahead as the entire team skulks through allies and side paths to avoid the panic stricken crowds in the streets.

"Kauyon, what did you find in the way of passages to get us into that compound? Is there anything we can use?"

Kauyons calm voice holds more than a hint of self pride as he replies "I think I may have just the thing...", and bends down to pry up a sewer grate...

As the guns started to be drawn and the Governor accused Aun'Yr'Eil, Kali'shima's mind rapidly calculated the expected outcomes of her possible actions. As an assassin, Kali was given mandate to act on her own initiative in critical situations even in the immediate presence of her handler. It's not like this sort of thing hadn't happened to her before; she had even had the pleasure of inciting a sudden breach of diplomacy in order to complete a mission without drawing her gun. But this time was different. This time there was no target, there was an army of unknown power bearing down on them, and allegiances were in question. The eternal mission of the Ordo Xenos was to eliminate xenos that pose a threat to the Imperium...

Kali played out the scenario in her head: she fires the neural shredder concealed in her bag, killing or disabling most of the Tau Honor Guard...but not all of it. The standoff ends in gunfire, ending in the annihilation of the Tau. The Ethereal is dead. The Governor is dead. Many Palace Guards are dead. Kali'shima and the Inquisitor may even be dead, shot by either side. The Imperial forces are unable to fight, and can only flee, to be cut down in orbit by Traitor Marines. Ophelia VII falls without resistance. The Ruinous Powers and Eldar Pirates pillage the holy shrines, whilst the Tau Empire claims a hundred Imperial worlds as debt for their fallen Ethereal.

Perhaps if she worked for the Ordo Hereticus, who would burn a planet to kill one witch, this would be acceptable. For her and surely for her Inquisitor, there were better options to take. Kali walks directly into the middle of the standoff, ignoring the pistols while flashing the men and Tau holding them charming smiles. She raises her hands in a gesture of pacifism, and bows to the Governor and Ethereal in turn.

She speaks quickly with a smile on her face. "Governor, though your anger in this time of crisis is understandable, I would ask you to immediately instruct your men to lower their weapons. With the authority of the High Inquisition, Ordo Xenos" Kali gestures to Inquisitor Dragonov "I can inform you that the Ruinous Powers cannot ally with the Tau Empire. Trust in this fact, prepare for the planetary defense, and allow the Inquisitor and myself to deal with your guests. The matter is now out of your hands."

Without waiting for a response, she turns to the Ethereal and begins to speak in Tau, "Ethereal, this servant of the Emperor of Mankind humbly requests that you will deign to command your esteemed guard to lower their weapons and cease hostilities. Our noble host must attend to the defense of his home against The Great Enemy, the bane of all civilized peoples. Please permit to allow my master, Inquisitor Dragonov, to direct you to safe quarters, for the good of your exalted personage and the warriors in your charge."

Throttling the Bike to its full capacity as he plummeted towards the surface, Kuva sharply stabilized horizontally mere inches from the paved street. Only Bann and Rakka dared risk their rides in such a fashion, the latter restricting herself willingly to direct the newbies. Bann and he veered off to the sides, spreading out their respective caltrops clouds as to maximise the carnage among what must have been the unluckiest platoon in Imperial history - amidst the flames and torn off limbs, the eight other riders picked off their targets one by one.

Kuva noted Ryna had missed his appointed kill - already making up his mind about the new recruit's fate upon returning to their own realm. He ordered a second pass, but as they approached the portal they had been guarding sprang into life, and out stepped Archon Xerial himself, duly finishing the job. He looked upon Kuva with contempt in his eyes rather than appreciation, for the attack he had witnessed was less than perfect; the gang leader kept his cool, but raged inwardly at such lack of skill amongst his own. Yes, Ryna's fate would indeed be a thoroughly agonizing one.

The wizened Archon now directed them to the City's outer defenses, for reasons only he cared about or understood. Even though Shaar and Gry'lu cast excited glances at one another, obviously eager to put their custom Blasters to work, Kuva reckoned it might well be a suicide mission, especially considering his posse's piss-poor performance just now. Of course he wouldn't voice such concerns to either his men or Xerian, instead merely nodding in respectful affirmation. But luckily the old git hadn't failed to only specify the why, but also the when and how of it. Gun emplacements were dangerous targets at the best of times; Kuva resolved to first properly stake out the scene before committing to an attack.

Zipping through the City, Kuva will direct his gang to a nice spot overseeing the gun emplacement, and form a plan that'll minimize his own casualties.

Deus Imperator in Terra, libera nos
Nisi animas a perditionis
Nos semper fidelis servi
Quia gloria et nunc et semper.

And so it was that Deacon Haggar’s mass segued into a recitation of “O God Emperor Deliver Us,” even though, as Sister Nevel Fatima noted, it was about one hour too early for the session to break into another hymn. But given the circumstances, she supposed this one minor break in Ecclesial doctrine could be forgiven.

She took a quick glance at her squad, who were all kneeling in silent prayer as expected. They were resplendent in their white armour and regal blue tabards of the Order of the Blessed Damsel, brass icons and hanging purity seals proudly displaying their devotion to the God-Emperor. The Seraphim of Squad Fatima, humble as they were in prayer, stood out amidst the ragged civilians who thronged the Chapel of Saint Kyrilios, their gleaming armour and stern demeanour a stark contrast to the rags and pilgrim-habits that so many of the faithful wore. No, Fatima corrected herself, the greater contrast was in how calm and collected her Sisters appeared, whereas the pilgrims were a collective mass of hysteria and terror mixed in with desperate hope. These people were afraid, and they had every right to be.

It had been roughly an hour since the attack began. Her Sisters had been heading to the Chapel to pray by the bones of Saint Kyrilios, and to meditate humbly upon the mercy of the God-Emperor, when warning-sirens had blared angrily. Somehow, the enemies of Mankind had made their way to Ophelia VII, one of the holiest planets in the Imperium, and had the audacity to try to attack and desecrate this sacred ground. Fatima’s first instinct had been to have her squad don jump packs and to take to the skies to repel the invaders, but she had a chain of command to follow. After quickly voxing Canoness Superior Lavinia of the Order of Our Martyred Lady for orders, Fatima got confirmation that she and her Seraphim were to stay in the chapel and guard the faithful to the best of their ability.
Even now, the Seraphim’s jump packs remained in the Rhino parked outside. Fatima felt almost naked without feeling the familiar weight of the pack attached to her back, and she knew that she and her Sisters wouldn’t be nearly as effective in battle when grounded. All the same, orders were orders. Kneeling against the pew she was sitting on, she maintained her silent contemplation as Deacon Haggar continued to lead the hymns. As much as she could, she tried to blot out the wails, the shouts and the sobs of the frightened civilians around her. She had already assured the pilgrims at the start of the attack that she and her Sisters would keep them safe: giving them further comfort was the Deacon’s job, not hers.

The mass was reaching a fever pitch now. The choir was singing along with the deacon, and many of the pilgrims were joining in. Fatima had to admit, Haggar did know how to rouse up a person’s faith. A part of her even wanted to join in—after all, what better way to bolster the morale of the civilians than having their sworn defenders, the Adepta Sororitas, join them in praising the God-Emperor?

As the hymn reached its final verse, Haggar stood up, imploring the gathered crowds to do the same with a raised hand. As one, the congregation rose, singing their praise to the God-Emperor….

…and, as though in cruel response, the ceiling caved in.

Everything happened so quickly and so suddenly, with Fatima’s training kicking in and moving her before she had even registered the situation. She spun backwards, rolling over one of the pews and whipping her bolt pistol from its holster. The world erupted into a roar of shattering ceiling, the snapping crunch of floor and pews being crushed, and the shrieks of almost a hundred terrified people. All Fatima could see, in those first few seconds, was an ever-present cloud of dust.

Then, briefly, through the dust, Fatima thought she could make out a huge object, illuminated faintly by dull light pouring from a huge hole in the ceiling. Spitting out a curse, Fatima slid her helm down over her head and activated the scanners. The entire area was thrown into a green-tinged light, and she was able to see the landing pod—for that was clearly what it was—slide a ramp down to allow hulking armoured figures to pile out. Even through the green tinge of her visual feed, she could see the brilliant crimson of their armour, the baleful glare of their eye-visors, and the black fist clenched on each of their gauntlets.

Bile rose in her throat at the sight. Chaos Space Marines.

“FIRE!” The words came automatically from her mouth at the sight of these most heinous of traitors, just as the heretics opened fire, the roar of their boltguns drowning out screams as a dozen of the pilgrims were reduced to a rest mist in seconds. Immediately afterwards, however, the Seraphim popped up from behind ruined pews to return fire with their dual pistols, and two Traitor Marines staggered back as deep craters were exploded into their armour as bolt rounds found their marks. Fatima joined in, firing her pistol in one hand while using the other to unsling her eviscerator, revving up the blades. The Traitor Marines must not have expected anyone to be shooting back at them the moment they exited their craft. From the corner of her eye, Fatima saw Deacon Hagger lean out from the edge of his pulpit, an archaic-looking plasma gun in his hands. She wondered at how the priest had gotten his hands on such a weapon, but decided that she had more important things to worry about.

“REPEL THE TRAITORS!” she shouted, diving behind another pew as some of the Traitor Marines returned fire at her. Around her, the faithful, who had been fleeing and trampling over one another in panic, were now pausing as Haggar burst into a string of fiery rhetoric, denouncing the Traitor Marines as unholy in the Emperor's sight and deserving of purgation. Doing her best to keep herself calm, Fatima began to sing a hym, hoping that it would be heard over the roar of the guns so that her Sisters would join in.

This was the Emperor’s world, she thought bitterly, a place dedicated to His worship. If these Traitors thought they could defile the sanctity of this place, then they were about to be proven wrong.



Fatima and her Seraphim will attempt to pray for their act of Faith and hose the Chaos Marines with fire, in the hopes of either wiping them out or keeping them occupied. They'll keep fighting them until they are dead, or until the congregation has evacuated the church (though they have no control over them, and they may attack the Chaos Marines instead, it seems). If they manage to defeat the Chaos Marines, then they will retrieve their jump packs from the Rhinos and have the Rhino driver take the sick and infirm pilgrims to a place of safety.

Hive Thor is cut completely off. With the roaming Dark Eldar and Chaos around the wastelands, and the huge pile-up of Traitor Guard setting up the siege equipment to break down the walls, there is no hope for the city. The astropath channels are busy with pleas of help from other hives, but all the other hives on Ophelia VII have their own problems to handle. Hive Thor is alone, and it looks like its walls are about to fall...

The streets run read with blood as roaming chaos bands and dark eldar raiders sweep through the crowds killing indescriminately. The PDF have left the slums defenseless, mostly focusing their defenses around the walls and around important buildings. The PDF's biggest problem is the Govenor's Palace, which has been surounded by the enemy. They are currently setting up an offensive to try and take it back. Also a curious site is the city's landing pads, which have become a temporary tau base, as the tau have kepted the pads relatively clear of enemy forces, for now.

Current Player Positions

Kabal: Your hellions cut through the masses like a hot knife through butter. You joyfully go through crowd after crowd, but you start to realize something... they arent despersing like they once where. They are actually standing their ground, and have started to fight back! Some even have found some form of lasguns, and even with their wild firing they managed to kill one of your Shadow Bolts. As you turn the corner on the bulevard, you come apon a square where tens of thousands of civilians are there, marching headlong into a line of chaos space marines who are currently letting their bolters out on full auto. The humans seemed to be rallied by one man sitting in the middle of the throng screaming some sort of song out on the loud speakers on his rhino.

Ruke: The Chaos Dread unloads with his butcher cannon into the side of the manta, causing severe damage to its drive engines. Your squad starts making a tactical retreat, while the rest of the honor guard forces form out to fight the dreadnaught. Your squad pulls off into the underhive around the landing pad, and find the manhole. They all drop down, and its barely big enough for you all to squeeze down. After about 10 minutes of walking in the merky water, you find the path getting to narrow for your squad to fit, so you go up the only available exit. You come out in the gardens of the Govenor's palace, which doesnt seem to be empty. As your squad starts to scout the terrain, you see movement from the rooftop. As you look up, a squad of 10 raptors that were perched up on the Palace's gargoyles come screaming down ontop of you, bolt pistols firing and chainswords reved. The leader is wielding a weird purple staff that seems to change shape in his hand.

Captain: Both sides seem uneasy and unsure of themselves. The Ethereal was the first to speak

"Very well "woman" but I will not be escorted to your term of safety, take me to my ship, so that I may leave this place."

With that being said, all of the honor guard lower their weapons. The Govenor's men, shocked by this, do the same, even as the Govenor continues to rant and rave. Just as you and the Dragonov start to organize the evacuation of the civilians at the party, a maniacle laughter breaks around from all around you.

"what a odd meeting, both tau and human dining in extravagance and luxury? And they never thought to invite us. How sad... but oh well, guess its our turn to dine with such... esquisite company."

The language was clearly Low Gothic, but the tone was something so alien that even made Kali'shima wince at the words. She had heard this errie inflection before, Eldar... Just then 3 of the more flashy guests throats were slit. Kali'shima's lightning quick reflexes allowed her to see a quick glimpse of the perpitrators. Long silver hair blocked their features except for a sickenly wide grin across their face. They then slide back into the shadows and disapear.

"Mandrakes" She whispers to herself. The rest of the guests start screaming, and both the palace guards and honor guards re-draw out their pistols.

Raneth: The Reavers Perch on a building across from the southern wall of the city. You can see far out in the wastelands the Traitor Guard setting up their seige equipment. The PDF defenders start shelling the Traitor encampments, but with them being so far out, most of the shells fall far off their mark. On the wall closest to you are 7 crewmen arming a baslisk. another 4 behind the sights of 2 heavy bolters, and a Commisar ordering the 3 crews around. They havent notice you yet. along the walls are towers, to which the door is large enough for a single reaver to get through no problem. You see one of the crewmen from the artillery gun run into the door, and walk out with a cart full of shells. You realize that the tower must be a munitions depot.

Scryex: Your squad opens up on the Traitors, who turn to face the new threat. As the firefight drags, the Preacher gets shot in the arm, and falls off the pulpit. The sight of the Confessor falling turns the fleeing crowd into a wave of angry lunatics, and they blindly throw themselves into the Chaos Space Marines. A swirling melee insues. Most of the traitors are brought down by trained bolt pistol fire by your squad, or the jabbing horde of pilgrims. One though proves must stronger then the rest, as he swings in the murderous circle with his giant chain axe. You step up to fight him one on one, but he quickly overpowers you and tosses you to the ground. As he stands ontop of you to deliever the finishing blow, he is inveloped in white hot plasma. You turn and see the Confessor standing up on the pulpit, his left shoulder a bloody pulp, but still alive none the less. Your squad herds the pilgrims outside of the building, and you try to get them into the rhinos for their own safety, but the Confessor tells you no. Their planet must be defended, and it will be the pilgrims that do it. You give him some medical supplies for his arm, and the throng of paritioners start marching down the street, singing songs of praise for the Emporer as they head out to do battle against his foes.

Your squad re-arms and grab their jump packs, and you intercept the plea for help from the Govenor's Palace. You decide to head that direction with haste.

Cavash: Your squad clears the courtyard of the main enterance to the Govenor Palace out. More Dreadclaws drop from the sky, and more and more Chaos Marines fill the courtyard. They start to set up make-shift barriers and set up heavy weapon placements. After about 10 minutes of this, your squad was one of the ones ordered to breach the doorway. The great Khorne Contemptor Dreadnaught "The Great Destoryer" smashes down the huge steel doors with a few punches of his mighty fist, and as you all run through the door, you are met with heavy resistance. Through the front door is a massive staircase, which has been hastily set up as a defensive location. about 40 PDF and Palace Guard men stand between you and the top floor, and they have hauled in heavy bolter and lascannons and set them up behind overturned desks and tables. The foyer has turned into a killing ground, and your squad is one of the many standing in the open.

Surveying the scene, Kuva noticed Bann licking his lips in anticipation from the corner of his eye. Of all members of the crew, his lust for all things explosive was most disconcerting - not for him the extended torture of souls, the slow draining of essence so enjoyed by other Dark Eldar; instead merely desiring to send the enemy off in a big wave of inescapable terror. Kuva smiled. His battle-brother would have his wish. Many humans occupied the emplacement, some armed with fearsome weaponry - this fight would require clever use of resources and a great deal of risk, but the sight and effect would be well worth it. I'll show that old git Xerial what we can do! Who knows, there might even be a juicy contract in it for us should we make it out alive...

Pick a number, he whispered. Though some of the new guys looked puzzled, the Wych brothers knew the call was for them - it was Gry'lu who guessed right today, earning him the right to cause the most devastation. Nice call Gry, blow that tower sky high! Jhero, get ahead and clear a path. The look in these Reavers eyes' upon hearing the command couldn't have been more apart; inexperienced Jhero edged with trepidation while the twin damn near salivated at the prospect. Shaar sulked, realising he'd have to make do with the cart at the emplacement - Kuva naturally reserving the right to engage the Main Gun for himself.

None of his steady crew needed any orders. The plan had always been the same in these situations, and until proven ineffective Kuva chose to stick with it. Rakka would lead the grunts in an assault on the crewmen, he himself and Bann weathering their exhaust fumes to blanket the Bolter gunners with caltrops. He knew Rakka probably wouldn't be able to resist attempting to assassinate the leader-human, but was fine with it - she was excellently equipped for shock and awe tactics, and the sight of a dead commander never failed to rattle the troops into submission. At least, not with these humans.

In summary:
- Gry'lu will attempt to bust the ammo depot, supported by Jhero.
- Rakka will lead the other grunts in a head-on Bladevane assault on the Basilisk crewmen - not just to cause carnage, but also to cover Gry'lu's attack.
- In Rakka's wake, Shaar, Bann and Kuva himself will follow; Shaar attacking the ammo crates, while the other two carpet bomb the Heavy gunners - Kuva will attempt to use his Heat Lance on the Basilisk itself in the same manoeuver.

If failed, another pass...

Xan’tha and the remaining Shadow Bolts fly through the city looking for more slaughter to entertain themselves, but the slums seem unusually empty, only a few passers-by are seen and subsequently killed by the roving maniacs. Suddenly Andrash shouted over to Xan’tha that he can see something on the distance. Xan’tha glanced in the direction Andrash indicated and saw that there was indeed signs of battle, las fire punctuated the skyline and Xan’tha laughed at how ineffective the people of the slums were with their toy guns, she stopped laughing abruptly as she remembered their last raid, the crowd had been armed, and although crowd had been destroyed, they had lost a member of their squad, not that she cared for her underlings, but with each death their combat potential was diminished.
Xan’tha lead the shadow bolts around the corner into the courtyard and almost did a double take, around ten thousand men and women and charging a chaos space marine bolter line, in the brief seconds Xan’tha watched, hundreds more bodies join the thousands already on the floor, but still the crowd forges onwards, gaining ground slowly but surely.
In the centre of the crowd stood a man atop a rhino dressed in the robes of the Ecclesiarchy, a twin handed chainsword held by his side. The Man was leading the crowd in song which was being broadcast from the speakers on his rhino. In an instant Xan’tha realised what this represented to these people, hope, hope that they could prevail against the foe. This was what the Shadow Bolts strived to destroy, and this time would be no different. Without pausing to tell her squad what she was planning she unsheathed her stunclaw and splinter pistol and set off to deal with the priest.
The Shadow Bolts set off after Xan’tha, firing their splinter pods into the crowd below, carving out great gouges in the crowd. Only one hellion broke off into melee range, Andrash fell upon the crowd and began butchering anyone withi0n range the crowd finally acknowledged the killers in the midst, this proved very hazardous to the health of the remaining hellions.
With Xenos targets within easy reach the crowd turned their guns skywards. Hundreds of lasguns and autoguns fired up at the Shadow Bolts as they streaked overhead. Andrash suddenly found himself surrounded by hundreds of people now aware of his presence; he tried to take off and re-join the rest of the squad, but was pulled off his skyboard and lost under a sea of people. The Hellions in the air fared little better, with the sheer amount of firepower being directed up at them some of the Shadow Bolts skyboards were hit, none were instantly destroyed, but most were crippled and scattered off into the slums to regroup. Only Xan’tha and 1 other hellion avoided the fire and continued towards the priest who had now stopped singing and raised his chainsword, he never got the chance to use it. The first Hellion took the lead and with a single stroke tore both the loudspeaker and the microphone from the rhino, Xan’tha sped passed the priest and barely slowed as they both sped upwards, the priest being dangled beneath her, the stunclaw imbedded in his stomach. Xan’tha rose above the crowd and stopped when she was out of range of the return fire. She ordered the remaining hellion to find the squad and regroup at the first portal sight and hold position until she returned to open the portal. With that dealt with she hauled the priest upwards and stared into his eyes, the strength had gone from them but the fight was still there.
“Xenos scum, the Emperor guides me and I guide my flock, we will see you destroyed, even with my death my followers will rise up against you monster. They no longer fear you.”
As a final act of defiance he spat into Xan’tha’s face. Xan’tha stared intently at the man for almost 3 seconds before unsheathing her knife and gouging out the priests eyes, one at a time. The priest screamed in agony, still wholly conscious thanks to the poison on her blade, a second later she retracted the claws of her stunclaw and watched the priest fall some 100 meters down into the crowd. As planned he landed just in front of them and in an instant the crowds attitude changed, no longer were they fanatically clawing at the chaos barricades, they were now trying to escape, pushing back the way they had come, in a split second the few who remained fanatic and continued towards the chaos marines were in the minority, the crowd was screaming in terror as they fled retribution.
“Everyone feels fear”
Xan’tha muttered to herself, before breaking off to find the remainder of the Shadow Bolts if any were still alive.

"Hell..."

A slight gesture brought the squads shield drones to bear, blocking the brunt of the raptors assault.

"Cut the head of this snake men, then rend its body!"

Markerlights focused on the squad leader and the entire squad opens fire on him. The squads gun drones opened fire on the remaining raptors, following their protocols.

In the space of a few seconds, all hell had broken loose within the narrow confines of the church as the Seraphim and the Traitor Marines had fired into one another. Bereft of their jump packs, the Seraphim had been forced to take cover wherever they could—behind pews and lecterns, dodging behind statuary which quickly became mutilated and defiled by bolter impacts. The narrow confines of the chapel meant that shots didn’t have far to travel, and the noise was amplified to a deafening degree.

The Traitors clearly hadn’t expected Adepta Sororitas to be stationed in the chapel, and Fatima’s Seraphim were able to catch them by surprise with an initial volley of pistol rounds. One of the Traitor Marines was instantly felled by concentrated hits before he could fire his weapon, and another toppled over as his right leg was blown out from under him. Then the Traitor Marines responded with expert discipline, fanning out and taking cover as well before responding with bolter fire of their own.

In the midst of it all, Fatima directed her Sisters, barking orders while snapping off shots with her pistol, before then leading her Sisters into a hymn. Their singing could be heard even over the roar of the gunfire, and as if on cue, the Traitor Marines answered with battle-cries of their own. Over it all, Fatima heard another voice, shouting sermons and recitations of scripture over the whine of heating plasma coils. Standing fearlessly over his altar, Haggar fired his plasma gun into the ranks of the Traitor Marines, spurts of light lancing out and shattering the cover that the Traitor Marines were hunkered behind.

And then, one of the Traitor Marines opened fire. There was an explosion of wood as a bolter round shredded the lectern, and blood, and Haggar was hurled backwards.

Fatima bit back a curse. “FRAGS!” she shouted. “Eileen, Yvette, purge them with flame!”

There was a dull crump of explosions, followed by the smell of burning promethium as four hand flamers opened fired. Half of the church was lit up by a blaze as the Traitor Marines were doused with burning promethium. Some staggered and snarled in pain as they caught fire, trying to shake off the burning. Others came onwards, firing from the hip as they sought to close with the Sororitas.

Ducking behind another pew as a mass-reactive round turned it into free-floating splinters, Fatima decided to take the initiative, rolling forwards towards the Traitor Marines—something that they hopefully wouldn’t expect, given the assumption that basic, genetically unmodified humans wouldn’t want to confront Astartes up close. The assumption cost one Traitor Marine dearly as he turned a fraction of a second too late—his swinging bolter fired past Fatima’s head, missing her by barely an inch before her own pistol round slammed into his face plate. The hulking Traitor gave a growl as he staggered back, clutching the ruin of his augmetic eyes. A buzzing snarl later, and Fatima swung her eviscerator low, tearing through the Traitor’s heavily armour knee, eventually sawing clean through despite the resistance that the armour and tough meat and bone offered. With a snarl, the Traitor toppled over, firing his boltgun at close range- Fatima twisted at the last moment, feeling the explosive shards of the shell bite into her side armour before driving her eviscerator into the heretic’s chest. The Traitor Marine gave a final, agonized growl as the buzzing teeth of the weapon tore through his chestplate and burrowed into his heart and lungs, before collapsing like a felled tree.

Fatima hardly had time to mouth a prayer of thanks to the Emperor, for granting her the strength with which to fell that giant, before another one came lunging at her.

She only saw a looming shadow before her before her instincts told her to dodge. She instantly sprang back, leaving her eviscerator lodged in the Traitor’s chest just before a crackling bladecame swinging in, its tip narrowly scoring a cut across her cheek. Backpedalling, Fatima found herself standing face to face with another one of the hulking Traitors. This one appeared to be a leader of some sort, gripping a large sword in one hand that crackled with barely contained energes, while in the other hand he clutched a bolt pistol fashioned into the shape of a screaming maw.

Fatima noted, uncomfortably, that with her eviscerator lodged in the dead Traitor Marine behind this Champion, she was woefully outclassed at the moment. She pushed such thoughts to the side as the Traitor came lunging at her, snarling obscenities over the grill of his helmet’s vocalizer.

“For the Tyrant!” the Traitor yelled.

“For the Emperor!” Fatima shouted back, rolling out of the way of the Red Corsair’s barrelling charge, firing point blank into him as she did so. Her rounds head dead on, exploding against the heretic’s thick chest plate, but still he charged onwards, slashing out with his power sword. Fatima’s roll saved her life, allowing her to avoid the crackling sweep of the blade, but at the same time her bolt pistol was knocked cleanly from her grip by the inhuman strength of the blow, and sent clattering uselessly across the church.

Beneath her helmet, Fatima grimaced. This was it, then. Drawing her combat blade—which might as well have been a toothpick against the armoured giant towering over her—Fatima prepared herself to meet the Emperor, Beloved By All, Divine Ruler of Humankind. A martyr’s death was the most a Sororita could ask for.

Except the Emperor, it seemed, had other ideas.

There was a brilliant flash of light, and suddenly a gaping, smoking hole erupted in the Red Corsair’s chest plate, sending him staggering back. Another hole erupted in his shoulder pauldron, causing him to give a loud roar and spin around away from Fatima.

And then his armoured head dissolved in a shower of sparks and liquefying ceramite.

As the Traitor Marine collapsed with an almighty crash, Fatima saw Deacon Haggar propping himself up on the remains of his pew, his plasma gun braced against the ruined lectern as he gingerly nursed the bloody, ragged hole in his shoulder. Somehow, he was alive. No, Fatima corrected herself, noticing for the first time that the church had gone quiet. Somehow they had all survived.

As was due and proper, Fatima knelt down and mumbled a prayer of thanks to the God-Emperor, was was right and proper for one of the Adepta Sororitas. Her Sisters followed suit. As she prayed, Fatima did a quick head count, and noted with satisfaction that her Sisters were all accounted for. Saria was holding her arm limply, and Karine’s frontal armour was awash with gore, and she was being propped up by Irina and Marisse. Fatima also noted, with displeasure, that the floor was strewn with rubble and, more troublingly, the shredded bodies of those of the faithful who hadn’t run away in time.

Remembering her duty, Fatima stood back up, pausing only to go recover her fallen weapons. Slowly, the churchgoers crept back into the room in a quiet, huddled mass, still gazing with disbelief at the former battleground and the bodies of their slain attackers, huge and nightmarish as they were. Fatima, for one, had no time to be intimidated by heretic corpses as she made her way over to Deacon Hagger. The wizened old priest has reclined back against a pile of holy tomes and had dropped his plasma gun, allowing himself the luxury of nursing his hurting shoulder.

“Deacon,” Fatima said, “we have a Rhino parked just outside. I want you to gather as many of your flock as you can, board it, and make way for the Governor’s Palace. It will be safe there.

Haggar looked up at her incredulously. Fatima noted that his hands were seared with severe plasma burns. “Flee?” he asked. “While heretics burn this holy world?”

“They will not,” Fatima said, doing the sign of the Aquila across her chest plate. “We will see to that.”

The priest shook his head. “This is the Emperor’s world, a gathering place for his faithful,” he replied. He reached over again and took up his plasma gun, ignoring the gaping wound in his shoulder. “Who else but the Faithful should defend it?”

For a moment, Fatima wanted to argue with him. For a moment, at least—she thought against it when she noticed the fire in the old priest’s eyes. In the background of the room, she heard the crowd breaking into mumbled prayers, then weeping, then laughter. Slowly, they were beginning to shout hymns, seemingly forgetting their fear.

“Alright,” she said, grabbing Haggar by the shoulders and helping to pull him to his feet. “Emperor protect you and your flock, Deacon.”

The man gave her a smile. “He does,” he replied, cradling his plasma gun. “As he does you, Sister Fatima.”

****

A few hours later, a chanting mass of zealots thronged out of the Chapel of Saint Kyrillios, holding up improvised weapons, icons and sheets of prayer text in their hands as they poured into the streets. At their head strode Deacon Haggar, the plasma gun cradled under one robed arm and the writings of Saint Thor held aloft in another as he recited scripture and oratory to his congregation as they marched. To look upon them, it was clear that there was no discipline or training holding this mob together. Just faith—intense, burning faith. And Fatima knew that this would be enough.

Mere minutes after the battle, Fatima and her squad received a fragmented vox, calling for reinforcements for a fierce battle raging at the Governor’s Palace. Voxing back an affirmative, Fatima and her Sisters went to their Rhino and retrieved their jump packs. Regardless of how lucky they had gotten in the chapel, their true strength was as jump infantry, and it was only when airborne that they could truly excel.

It took only a minute for them to fix jump packs and do the necessary double-checks. Then, at Fatima’s order, their packs roared to life, sending them upwards on winged jets of flame, and as one, the Seraphim took flight.

"These Daemons are not our true enemy! They seek to stall us to prevent a defense from being established." Kali'shima walked over a dining table and reached under a large silverine serving vessel of roast grox, retrieving her C'Tan Phase Sword from its hidden compartment. With two swipes she cut off her restrictive dress, revealing the synskin bodyglove underneath. She looked to the shadows, trying to spot one of her umbral assailants. A wide-band blast from the neural shredder tore into a dark area. Without even seeing if her cover-negating weapontry had an effect, she addressed the panicked guests and clustered guards with a loud, commanding voice. Moments lost for more tact meant lives lost.

"We have to strike now, while we still have time. Those who would serve the Emperor, draw whatever weapons you have concealed and prepare to strike. Captain of the Palace Guard, as you protect the Governor, lay down suppressive fire into the dark corners. Shas'O of the Honor Guard, if your men have markerlights, I suggest you put them to use. We attack as one at the Inquisitor's command: soldiers of the Planetary Defense Force, warriors of the Fire Caste, we attack as one!"

Kali is going to lay down neural shredder templates until the units are ready (three, as far as I am concerned: the guests with PDF training, the Imperial Palaxe Guard, and the Tau Honor Guard). Once Dragonov gives the word, it's into the breach. Neural shredder blasts followed by close quarters swordplay. The Emperor Protects!

Hive Thor has become a complete slaughter. The wall defenses have been brought down by sabotage or by the constant barrage of cultist artillery, all of the major PDF stations have been over run by Chaos Space Marines, and the few Adeptus Arbites stations left running have gone on the defensive. The Govenor's Palace has become the focal point of the entire battle. The traitor marines have set up a forward station perched outside the front gate as if to say that the city was theirs.

But it wasnt. The tau still held the city's port, and a brave liuetenant by the name of Crogan has rallied what PDF and Sister of Battle forces remain to make one final push towards the Govenor's Palace. If they can get there, they can use the hidden supply of weapons and tanks to help push the traitors out of their city.

An interesting turn of events though are the people of Hive Thor. They have all started to rally around the preachers and confessors that the world is known for and have hit the street in huge mobs, some with barely even rocks to throw at the enemy. But these mobs have slowly but surely been whiping out invaders around the city. The Tyrant would have to quickly find what he is looking for, because he is starting to loose his hold on Hive Thor.

Kabal: Your foolish act has left your Shadow Bolts scarred, but not completely destroyed. In total you lost 4 more Hellions. Your plan worked, and the crowded started to run in fear as they saw their beloved preacher falling from the sky. The Chaos Space Marines stare in bewilderment, and after your squad starts to regroup, the Chaos Marines train their guns apon you. One screams out to you "Run you filthy Xenos, Huron isnt here to protect you" They look like they want a fight, but they outnumber you and have a dug in position.

Ruke: The Champion is brought down by the fire that poured into him, but the other raptors rip into your gun drones killing 2. Vior'la was hit in the leg, but surivived though due to the sacrifice of one of your shield drones taking the brunt of the killing blow. Your gun drones were able to down 2 more Raptors, and your fusion gun was able to take out another. Currently there are 6 raptors left, one of which is perched ontop of Vior'la ready to finish what he should of done before interfered.

Captain: Your defensive stance has taken care of two mandrakes as they phased out into the shadows to attack the guests. As you try to rally them around those that cant fight and escort them out, the Palace Guards and Honor Guards start being the mandrakes next targets. Losing nearly half of your fighting capabable men from both Guard and Tau, all seems lost. As your group keeps running through the halls, it seems like you are being corraled into a certain location. When you burst through a door, you come apon the main hall, were you see the traitor space marines making their charge up the stairs. A contemptor dread and several crazied marines leading the charge.

Raneth: your gambit worked, and you silenced not only your guns, but two more on the wall from the explosion. Sadly Gry'lu was killed in the ploy. Oh well, he was expendable. You also picked up a new fetish in the form of the main loaders head. While your suqad regroups and prepares to move out, you notice 3 leman russ tanks holding the remaints of the main door to the city. Their death would make the invasion go much quicker.

Scryex:Your squad forms up with the remains of the PDF and SoB forces. Their plan is to take the Govenor's Palace back by force, but first they have to get through the CSM forces surrounding it. As your forces move forward, your squad is stationed in the middle of the force. You come apon a predator mounted behind some sandbags and 2 Havoc squads with heavy bolters pouring shots into your adavance. The PDF have taken postions behind cover, and the few tanks they have left have open fire, trying to take out the predator. If that predator isnt stopped, your advance will be halted, but you have to worry about the 2 squads of 5 Havocs around it as well.

Cavash:As you make your charge, you see the Contemptor get slagged by a lascannon shot. Bullets bounce off your armor, and you secessfully make it to the top of the stairs unscathe. Sadly you were the only one. The 4 members of your squad that did make the charge with you, were cut down on the run up. You are now alone in melee with a squad of Palace Guards, and as you cut through them with glee, an old grisly vet walks forward with a power sword and challenges you. The rest of your squad is trying to support you now from below.

With but a gesture Kais Lel sent a shield drone to intercept the raptors blade as it plunged toward Vior'la. With only that signal, the entire squad opened fire on the remaining 6 members of the squad, bringing their entire firepower to bear while slowly retreating to keep as much distance between the raptors and the squad as possible. The remaining shield drones pushed to the front, darting and parrying, keeping the raptors away from the main squad. Kais Lel honed her markerlight and fusion gun on the Raptor perched on Vior'la attempting to save her comrades life.