Difference between revisions of "The Rallying of Trugoy~Ep.3 - Crushing of Grox"

Revision as of 00:16, 4 July 2016

Battle Details

Type: Battle
Date: 311.008.M31
Sub-Sector:Centrumeh Sub-Sector
System: Trugoy System
Planet: Grox
Victor: Traitors
Draw:
Influence: 5

Forces:

Battle Summary

Reports from the Field

There it was again that clawing scratching sound. Was it louder this time, it did seem louder this time? Castyel hated the warp and every time he travel through it to him it felt like it was some how angry at him for leaving his Home world. There it was again like giant blades running the length of the Thanathos's Void shields. A smile broke Castyel's face baring his fangs a hallmark of being born on Nosgoth a small world trapped in a pocket of the warp itself.

"So you still show your talons to a son of the Lion and think they bring fear" he said look up from the Data slate that he had read over and over but still found himself rereading. At last His primarch had sent him and his men on a mission that would clear their honor. He read the last line of the message from his Primarch again "You were born a lion and a lion you will stay. El'Johnson"

Nosgoth his home and many thought of as a little sister to Caliban was once a jewel in the stars before Old night..Before yes but then came the warp cutting it off from the galaxy. Trapping ships there that traveled to close and turning it into a Death world. With Terra a forgotten memory its forests twisted, became dark and soon again covered most of the surface of this lush, green planet a mirror of those on Caliban as beautiful as they were deadly. There the people had fought a war against the twisted Creatures of the warp, a war that had seen all but one city fall by the time The Thanathos made land fall.

A Vengeance-class Grand Cruiser the first of it's kind to be made by at the new forge world of the Dark Angels. On root to Caliban loaded with new Mark 4 power armor, weapons, tanks all custom made and most importantly new Gene-seeds. The warp had ripped the great ship off course like many before and thrown them out within the gravity well of Nosgoth. Castyel could still remember that night and how he and his patrol had fought their way to the ship. It was majorly damaged but unlike every other ship he knew of had managed to land. In the years that followed Those few survivors of the landing fought side by side with the people of Nosgoth and soon embraced them as brothers. Test of both flesh and soul were then taken out by Primus Medica and librarians alike before the gene-seed Implants took place.

A growl escaped Castyel as he remembered the months of non stop testing he and his had under gone followed by the years that followed as they under went the changes to become Astartes, the war to reclaim Nosgoth and the repair of the Thanathos. They had been so proud when they had joined up with the Dark Angels fleet and were presented to the Lion himself. Only for Iflyon an envoy of Lorgar and his Imperial Heralds to denounce them as unfit to be Astartes. Claiming them unclean due to the variance in their genetic make up. The time from Old night had left its mark on the people of Nosgoth with part of their genome becoming partly feline in nature. El'Johnson had turned on Iflyon with cold rage but with words as calm as if he was asking for a glass of water stated "Russ has his wolves I have my lions" Iflyon simple replied "I must get back to Lorgar with the update of your progress if you want to keep your pets that is up to you." making his exit.

Now Iflyon and his legion had been unmarked as traitors and reports had them currently on Grox. They where only 13 hours out from make land fall on Grox and Castyel Gray Praetor of the Dark Angels Iron Wing would deliver Iflyon a message from his Primarch. He place the data slate back on the desk and he stood, that message catching his eye as he did so "Your Orders are to show them why we are called the Angels of Death!" "With pleasure my lord" he said as he walked from his cabin to over see his troops readiness.

Lord Marshal Maas Ventor looked down on the planet Grox from orbit, it looked a far cry from the barren, irradiated world he knew it to be. Terracotta earth, dust really, dead and dry. The corpses of the fallen don’t rot here, but desiccate in the scorched atmosphere. Soon, soon he would descend to the surface with his handpicked Veletaris troops. The best of the 61st Auxilia regiment of the Ultramar Segmentum. He ran a gloved hand through his greying beard, recalling the orders that sent him here…

“Lord Marshal” the imperial messenger exclaimed as he rushed into Maas’ chambers

“yes?”

“Word, my lord, of the highest order” the courier looked almost frightened as he handed over the data slate.

Maas had to look twice, it bore the Primarch’s own seal. “Terra…” he breathed. The Primarch doesn’t usually bother with direct communications to the general army? What the data slate revealed explained the urgency of the missive and filled Maas with dread…

“So, it is true. Warmaster Horus has fallen. Astartes battles Astartes, brother against brother… I heard rumours, but such a thing… Emperor be praised… should not be possible”

Mass sadly shook his head as he raised from his reverie, and turned to look at his two personal transports. Truly honoured to have not one, but two machines of war such as these to call his own. Side by side brass on deep blue, his Baneblade, Interficio, and Shadowsword, Interemptor. Maas turned once more and looked one last time upon the distant Grox…

“Rally The Troops!” he yelled, “Let us descend upon this cursed planet and bring death with us. I see no place as fit as this dead world to lay waste to the traitorous hordes. Let their corruption join with that of this irradiated dust-bowl, leave none to remember them. Let their names be stripped from memory. LET NONE SURVIVE! FOR THE EMPEROR!”

Mass turned and strode towards Interemptor and Interficio, the cheers of his forces echoing through the support hanger as he climbed aboard one of the behemoths.

Maas had never felt a rage like this, he would not let his Primarch down. Lord Gulliman had personally selected the 61st for this mission, “I will not fail him, the traitors WILL fall”

He felt the pull of the transports as they left the hanger carrying him and his forces to Grox. Maas steeled his resolve further as they descended… Vox chatter alerting him that the Ultramarines were already on the ground… “to war lads” he whispered, “in the name of the Emperor, let us to war…”

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