Saturday, 7 November 2015
Wednesday, 30 September 2015
3 Days Later
Gravis awoke in a cot, the medicae bay was in darkness.
Everything hurt like hell, though his leg felt oddly cold, he couldn’t quite remember why, in the darkness his mind wondered.
He remembered. Praetorian Guardsmen he did not recognise jumping from the Vendetta Gunship attached to his own regiment as it hovered precariously at the edge of the ruined Leviathans battlements.
He remembered. Being physically thrown into the small transport compartment a Corpsman desperately working at his legs, as the gunship pulled slowly skywards. Those same Guardsmen gave their lives to stop the Orks atop his ruined Leviathan from bringing the then vulnerable flyer to ruin as it slowly lifted skyward again.
He remembered. Seeing from the hatch 4th Mechanised in action from above, the remaining Guard strengths disengaging, the Orks themselves too depleted to do more than snap at the heels of the Imperial soldiers.
He remembered. The news on the vox that the banner of the 24th Cadian had fallen. That Admiral Drax himself was gone.
Gravis’ closed his eyes, and dreamt of vengeance.
So concludes the story of the Second Siege of Agratha! The final score saw the Orks win the scenario by 1 VP, based on three primary objectives and a number of secondary objectives - amongst those two Ork Warlords and two Imperial Commanders, for one of whom it would appear to be the final battle (Don't do it Admiral Drax!).
We had a fantastic time fighting the game out over the weekend, not to mention extending the narrative! Plus it was a real joy to take to the field with only painted miniatures, so a huge thanks to all concerned, Chris, Matt, Mike, James & Phil!
Don't forget to check out the blogs of Colonel Winterborn & Admiral Drax for even more pictures and write ups of the battle!
The end? Definitely not, there has to be a part two now... anyone free next summer!?!
Yes? You better get painting then!
We've got loads of loose ends to tie up, and after setting the bar we can only make it both bigger and better!
- Warlord Gorblud & Colonel Winterborne still have unfinished business in their long running and bitter rivalry.
- The Ork's will be determined to press their advantage and conqueror more of the world, and beyond, but the Imperium can't possibly allow the Orks to keep what they have taken, let alone take more.
- Even in victory Gorblud will surely be outraged that Big Sod claimed the wreckage of his Skulhamma, not to mention the prize of the wrecked Leviathan, think of the monstrosity that the Ork's could build with it - if its not wrecked further by their own squabbling!
- Meanwhile for the Imperium in defeat, blame must be attributed somewhere, rightly or wrongly, while avoiding self-incrimination. Political influence will be wielded like a weapon as the surviving commanders seek to avoid implication in the eyes of the Commissariat. Of course that assumes that those involved have the restraint to act more rashly or directly...
10 Days Later
"Sir... Sir! You can't just..."
The officer slammed the door behind him, stiffly marching forward, dressed in dress breaches and white undershirt. The new augmetic replacement leg had grafted well, but it was too soon to be walking on it and every stride made him grimace. The pain focused his mind on his thoughts from over these past few days.
The gaggle of Officers ahead parted, one amongst them stepping forward hand outstretched.
"Gravis! Up and about already! Good to see yo..."
The officer glared at Winterborne raising his voice above his fellow regimental commanders.
"Where in in the Emperor's name were you?!"
Winterborne was taken aback, dropping his hand. To address a fellow officer in front of his subordinates in such a fashion. Such a lack of respect. Unthinkable. Un-Praetorian.
"Agratha fallen. Drax missing, probably dead. Hundred's of casualties. My Leviathan wrecked, and probably being defiled by the Orks as we speak. All of it, all of it for the want of a few more guns on the line when it really mattered....!"
A sense of awkward tension hung in the air.
"Where were you and your vaunted Mechanised? Waiting for the perfect moment? Letting mine and Drax' men do the bleeding before coming to save the day and steel the glory? Was that it?"
Winterborne mastered himself, Gravis was clearly unhinged....
"Colonel... I think you should return to the Medi...."
Gravis' right fist connected with Winterborn's face with a spurt of blood and the crack of a breaking nose. The unexpected blow sent him reeling backwards against his desk, before slumping to the floor against it.
Scowling at the fallen commander of the 4th Mechanised, Gravis turned away awkwardly marching back out of briefing room, as the door slammed shut behind him the junior Officers let out a collective breath and moved to aid their commander.
There would be hell to pay later Gravis mused as he made towards his own regiments barracks.
Official censor, definitely. Significant punishment, possible, but unlikely.
A regimental feud, inevitable.
But right now - right now it felt good.