TURN ONE- Dark Eldar: Glaucous lightning marred the sky, illuminating the savaged encampment with a brief yet nauseating glow. Several of the ebony gliders hovered into the air on maelstroms of smoke and fire, seething back into the sultry gloom with captives swinging pendulously on chains below deck. One of the crafts teetered in mid-flight as it boosted from the ground, pitching to one side. A Warrior on board produced a monofilament garrote, and neatly severed a captive's arms and legs. They roared with laughter as they leaned his torso over the side of the skiff, that he could helplessly watch his limbs plummet to the earth like ballast. The craft then leveled out as long ellipses of flame spouted from the exhaust, and it disappeared after the others on the dark horizon.
The rear guard pillaged what
remained, as their Kabal suffered the same fate as the
Humans...not enough fuel and materials to last until the warpgate
back to the Dark City was reopened. The Haemonculi exchanged
scarce words, then waved their flanks to take position. The army
obediently undulated out like the fin wings of a manta ray.
The Haemonculus known as Lorces extended his emaciated arm and
pointed a bladed digit at the lead Rhino. A disintegrator bolt
was loosed from a nearby Raider, and the brunt of it was borne by
debris obscuring the Rhino. Enough dark energy dispersed on
through to stun the vehicle's pilots.
TURN ONE- Blood Angels: A pair of Humans left for dead came running out from the encampment teeming with alien Warriors. Unarmored and unarmed, and bleeding profusely--they splashed through the puddles of acid to the forefront, yelling and firing scavenged flareguns at the heavens. Streams of white phosphorous twisted upwards like dazed seraphim and detonated overhead--blanketing the grounds with an quivering eerie light, and exposing the Dark Eldar positions. From behind the men, Eldar silhouettes emerged and pulled wisps of steel across their throats. The two heroes-turned-martyrs crumpled to the sodden ground and into the waiting arms of the Emperor--but their sacrifice was not in vain.
No other survivors were spotted,
and thus the encampment could be retaken with maximum force and
indirect fire. The order was given to retake the outpost at all
costs. Ignoring the flickering fuel lights, the Blood Angels
gunned their supercharged engines forward. The company snaked
around the rocky terrain, pushing forth in an armored S column.
Once in position, smoke and chaff obscured the Rhinos against the
upcoming defense battery.
Chaplain Argus and his Death Company cleared the Rhino blocking
them in one rocket-assisted leap. Their bolt pistols sent a
Sybarite flailing into his squad; his body a constellation of
gushing blossoms. Two more fell by his side from the wildfire.
Like a runaway chariot, the Death Company barreled into the two
cringing survivors--decapitating them noisily with chainswords,
and rushing past without a stratagem, much less a thought, into
the larvae-ridden arms of the Grotesques.
Meanwhile, support fire blustered harmlessly in the gloom, as a foul wind brought with it a host of carrion feeders to perch upon the tower of aged girders...
