Author Topic: Life of the Guard  (Read 9224 times)

Offline Necris

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Life of the Guard
« on: September 21, 2010, 12:52:28 AM »
The enemy's artillery fell like rain across the Imperial Earthworks, miles of dug in and reinforced trenches pounded by tons of munitions as the enemy tried to crack open the Imperial line before they flooded forward and indulged in their wanton slaughter, but these were no mere trenches built by the Imperium of Man these were trenches of the Imperial Fists and the Death Corps of Krieg of the 46th Line Corps and 21st Bombardment Corps of the 88th Army, they were built to resist such bombardments and stood in defiance of the enemies weapons the guardsmen of the 4th Grand Army of the Nikean Crusade sheltering in bunkers while the ground above them were landscapes by explosions of an epic scale. The war on Fedras' Shield had ground on for nineteen months the Imperial Fists having long since been drawn off into other conflict across the world while the human guard had been left to hold the northern front of the battle, where the fighting was the heaviest, yet under the command of General Von Raeder of Krieg the lines had held despite the near constant bombardment from the enemy and the losses suffered the 4th Army was still above ninety percent strength and each and every man and woman of the Imperial Guard was itching for a fight, so much so that the commissars duties had increased as brawls broke out within the bunkers as tensions frayed and nerves snapped.

Commissar Hallis strode down one of the many interconnecting underground tunnels that formed a network for munition rails and supply lines safe from the bombardment above his foot falls matching the constant booms from over head, the hems of his uniform was caked in mud and dirt from the comings and goings of soldiers a fact which caused him a great deal of irritation at the end of each day as he spent hours cleaning and polishing the uniform to only have it dirtied again, as senior commissar for the Lower North it was his duty to relay reports and orders from high command to his commissars and juniors, as he turned into a closed section he allowed himself a narrow smile as the commissars present came to attention, relaying the Commissar-General's daily orders, with his business conducted he dismissed his commissars back to their duties calling out to one in particular as he stood.

"Gracus if you'd please."

Gracus was a tall build built man with skin as black as the mud in the tunnels, his eyes were bright and held an intelligence that threatened to dwarf Hallis' own, his only failing was his uniform more plain than a regular commissar's he lacked the pomp that usually came with the role, the dirty grey cloak he wore around his shoulders made him look like some ill kept junior yet second to himself Gracus was one of the most senior and experienced commissars under him. As the bigger man stepped back from the other commissars filing from the carved out space Hallis looked over him a pair of long daggers which were more like short swords hung from each hip while his bolt pistol as much a symbol of his position sat nestled over the right blade, his cap was tucked under his arm and looked like it had seen much better days but on reflection so had his own, he'd requested a new one from stores but as yet it had not appeared.

"You have something you wish to discuss with me Jonah?"

He nodded as he stepped up towards him.

"Yes, it's about that rabble of yours."

"The Reivers are an exceptional fighting unit, I'll have nothing bad said against them."

"I don't doubt their fighting prowess, in fact that is the very problem the majority of brawls involve at least one Reiver."

"I am aware of that, their officer has restricted their movements beyond their deployed sections."

"If it continues the powers that be will step in and then heads will role, you know as well as I do that the Krieg Commissars have no compassion or mercy."

"Are you threatening my men Jonah?"

"No, no, not yet."

Gracus frowned as he saluted turned and left his journey back to the Reivers was short only a few hundred clicks from the briefing point upon entering he found most of the Reivers sitting in small groups cleaning kit or playing games of change their uniforms a dark charcoal against the dark mud surrounding officers moved between the men chatting and joining in some of the games, in the centre of their allocated bunker a space had been cleared where men spared with one another keeping their fighting spirit alive, the fought with pairs of matching sticks as was tradition with them each man circling and dancing he counted no less than a dozen of them half with the top halves naked against the others who wore their fatigue shirts. He strode on past heading for the back of the bunker where the commanding officers would be. He paused looking back at the troopers and frowned slightly. The Reivers were the light infantry element of the Vergast Imperial Guard made up of the low born citizens of Vergast who in their past had been a subjugated people of the Vergast Nobility, they had taken to raiding and banditry to survive which is where they got their skills from.

He turned from the men stepping past a curtain into the officers mess looking round he picked out Lieutenants Frost and Dust though half of the men held those names it was one of the commissariats bugbears that most of the low born Reivers had the same surnames, the men were more commonly known by their first names in Frost and Dust's cases these were Kais Frost and Jed Dust, he gave the two a quick nod before looking over the rest of the mess, Sergeant Gran Dust sat in conversation with their chief Medicate Argus Kriden a high born of Vergast but despite that he was well liked, Gran was complaining about his bionic leg, he'd been complaining about it for a while now the calibration had been miss aligned during their last skirmish after a las bolt had dented the thigh plate badly, and despite the priesthood of Mars' skills it was still not right. The other high born Major-Captain Kaiden Roose sat apart from the others reading a fine leather bound book, he stood out from them too, while being clad in the charcoal of the regiment his uniform was a finer cut and edged with fine piping of black silvered officer pins sat proudly on his shoulders just like the officer an troopers of the Vergast Regular Heavy Infantry Regiments, unlike the rest of the men Roose was missing the twin short swords that all the men carried as a High Born he would never lower himself to wielding the weapon of a commoner. Roose was not well liked his sole role here was to ensure the Reivers did no sully the good name of the Vergast Imperial Guard, the regiments made up of the High Born sons of Vergast, he stepped up to Roose.

"Major-Captain, where is the Major?"

Roose looked up from his book a glared in the direction of the officers quarters that stretched into the very back of the cavern, Gracus looked up beyond the tent fabric as an explosion loosened a fine mist of dirt from the roof of the cavern.

"How can he sleep in this?"

"The base born curs can sleep through anything idle scum that they are."

Gracus frowned as he leant in close to Roose.

"Any you wonder why the men don't give you any respect Roose."

By birth right Roose carried the same powers as himself save for the fact that he was more concerned about respect and putting the men in their proper place instead of enforcing discipline it was a fact that sickened Gracus to his core and were he able he would have put a bolt into Roose a long time ago, Roose frowned and reached for his laspistol before remembering just who he was speaking too. He laughed as he stepped past and pushed the flap aside. Major Elric Snow lay upon a cot eye closed tight as he slept as Gracus moved into the quarters Elic sat up one of his twin blades in his hand.

"Commissar Gracus, what's the word?"

Snow had that easy calm attitude that was unsettling of an officer with a bionic eye and arm he was an imposing figure as he slid the blade back into it's sheath and started pulling his boots on, Gracus noted that despite being the senior officer Elric's uniform was not a finely cut or a decorated as Roose's because of his low born status, he folded his legs round and sat looking at Gracus as he sat opposite.

"Commissar Hallis suspects we'll push an attack in less than twelve hours, our forces are preparing for a fresh barrage on the enemy lines, the commissariat presence at the rear has been doubled as General Von Raeder prepares to give the orders to man the guns again."

He nodded as he reached for his tunic pulling it on.

"That will mean a recon run before the infantry push."

"I suspect so."

"That means it will be us, the 254th Duran, the 63rd Marrix and the 99th Rigante."

He stood and fastened the tunic before striding out into the officers mess.

"Jed, Kais, officers briefing one hour, spread the word full readiness in three."

He looked at Roose.

"Assemble your blues."

Roose slapped the book closed standing.

"You will address us as Regulars Major..."

He turned on Roose.

"Get your dammed men now Roose!"

He started and leapt back, Gracus smiled Elric had never feared the Noble born his forefathers had stood against them in the rebellions and that rebellious spirit alive and well in him now, the very fact that he was a Major at all was because of the Lord General and not his own Vergasti officer, he was the only Low Born with a rank higher than Captain a fact which meant he could enter the officers mess without hassle.

He looked round as the officers went about their business before going to Gran's side.

"Leg still bothering you?"

"Yeah dammed things given me a bloody limp."

"Go and see one of the Krieg or Asgarth enginseers."

Gran nodded and limped off.

He turned to those left.

"This is going to be a whole pile of viss when it gets going. Gracus remember to thank Hallis for the heads up at least this time we can be prepared."
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Offline Necris

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #1 on: September 21, 2010, 08:51:41 PM »
Six hours after Hallis' breifing word spread through the trenches of General Von Raeder's orders, the reconnaissance regiments were amassed and made ready including the Vergast Reivers they stood like grey ghosts waiting within the tunnels looking out at the trench wall. Elric stood at the head of his men as the tunnels behind filled with life, thunder cracked from the tunnel mouth and a moment later the constant drumming of the enemy bombardment cease, he turned to Gracus who stood like a shadow next to him.

"Our guns are doing their job."

With a silent gesture the Reivers moved forward out into the open air where the rain fell pounding as heavily as the bombardment, looking down the line of men coming from the cover he spotted the Rigante's Colonel Krastor the colonel offered a wave before ordering his men over the trench lip Elric did the same snapping his hand forward the men moved past him scaling the wall the slid into the darkness of the world beyond, stepping up he looked back at Roose and his people a squad of noble born their uniforms and finery standing out against the regular Reivers, in their hands were hellguns unlike the other men's lasgun and they stepped up looking out into no mans land, Roose spoke.

"I can hardly see them."

"Thanks because they don't want you to see them..."

He turned sharply looking over his shoulder as rank upon rank of Death Corps Linesmen strode from the trenches, followed by the rest of the Imperial guard Cadians, Vergasti, Steel legionaries, Carthax Fusiliers the General was determined to break the enemy tonight. A major of the Death Corp and a Carthaxian Colonel stepped forward as he stepped back down.

"Snow you're to clear the path for our regiments to follow in support stay in constant vox link if you get into trouble we'll push forward and give covering fire."

He nodded at the Cathaxian Colonel before moving to the trench wall and scaling it as a second volley of fire rang from behind, he turned looking at the sky line as it lit up as a second barrage fired then a third the artillery corps were using a rolling fire to keep pressure on enemy, he turned his attention back to the field before him stepping down into the mud he moved keeping low he covered the killing ground coming to the front of his lines, drawing his most able scouts to him he sent them forward to clear the path and check for enemy positions.

"Vox Colonel Luska, all clear."

His Vox officer nodded and set to working the dial of the vox castor Elric moved forward keeping down as he went forward Gracus knelt beside Gran as the veteran sergeant surveyed the field through a powerful scope.


"Not from this vantage, our scouts under Lass have just dropped into a crevice."

"Take your squads and move forward in support, Gracus go with them."

"Yes sir."

With a gesture four dozen grey shapes moved forward following their limping officer 
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Offline Wulf

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #2 on: September 25, 2010, 07:56:11 PM »
Meanwhile twelve clicks east...

Obergrefreiter Kaled Skorn waited for the dreaded signal. Leutnant Kraust was peering into his periscope. Any minute now, the barrage would start. In fact, it was already late. The guns on the sector west of them had already begun, what the frag was keeping theirs? Kraust looked at his auspex and then his vox-feldwebel, Grustorp. They exchanged what looked like bitter words and then Grustorp took up the vox's handset. He grunted something into the vox, then waited, then said something again, this time looking even more agitated than before. Grustorp looked at Kraust and shook his head. Kraust said something that Skorn guessed was a litany of cursing enough to make a Catachan blush. Grustorp spoke into his handset again and paused to listen, then said something to Kraust. Looking at Kraust's body-language, it wasn't something Kraust liked.

Kraust rose and gave the signal they all had been dreading. They were going up and over. Without artillery support. Something was wrong, but the attack was timed to coincide with no doubt some other highly futile effort. Skorn cradled the heavy stubber in his arms and rose, his boots slipping in the mud as he climbed up the trench wall. Gefreiter Otakar Gieler followed him, bearing the tripod and six belts of ammunition. Six Chimeras and two Leman Russ tanks rumbled past, slinging mud all over as they rolled forward, rising up from the assault ramps built into the trench.

The enemy fire started the instant they reached the lip. Kraust was cut down immediately, crumpling in a bloody heap before he even took his first step into the no-man's land. Skorn didn't have the time to spare him any thought: regret, pity or anything. The air was heavy with las-fire and lead as Skorn rushed forward. His mind was blank with fear. Any minute now, he could be killed. He didn't know why he went, after all it would have been easy just to fall back once Kraust was killed, but he went anyway. That was the way of Death Korps.

The cries of the wounded and dying mixed with buzz of bullets streaking past and the sizzling of las-rounds boiling the mud around him. Skorn dove forward, behind a block of rock-crete tank obstruction. One of the Leman Russes sprayed him with mud as it rolled close-by, the boom of its battlecannon drowning out all other noise. In a way, it was a soothing sound. It made Skorn feel like there was someone with a big gun watching over him. He flipped open the bipod, shouldered the heavy stubber and aimed down the sights at their objective.

Hill 29188.

It was a nondescript little mound rising from the ground, not a hundred feet higher than the rest of the terrain, and ravaged over and over by artillery and small arms fire from both sides. But it had been taken in the morning by the enemy and sector commander Major Varnensee wanted it retaken. The orders probably came from even higher. In Skorn's experience, the higher an officer rose in rank, the more he grew fond of non-descript terrain features that required mind-boggling casualties to take and hold.

He made sure that the ammo box was upright and the belt was free of mud. The machine spirit of his heavy stubber didn't particularly like mud, he had noticed. Satisfied it was relatively mudfree, he aimed down the sights again and pulled the trigger. Short bursts hammered into the hillside. He imagined that at least one enemy gun fell silent, but then the top of the obstruction exploded in a hail of dust and rock-crete fragments. Gieler who been running up to him dove into the mud at last second, narrowly avoiding beheading by stubber fire.

Skorn cussed and wiped the lenses of his respirator free of rock-crete dust. He looked back for a split-second, glad to see that Gieler was crawling up to him an all fours, still in possession of the tripod. When he turned back to face the hill, an explosion rocked his head backwards. The rush of air, fumes and shrapnel spun him around and left him gasping for air, facedown in the mud. He felt like he had been hit with a frying pan. Steel rained down on him and if he were fully conscious, he'd have been thankful for his heavy trenchcoat. Saved him a few cuts and bruises at least.

Once he came to, Gieler was turning him over.

Gieler was probably saying something to him, most likely asking whether he was ok, but he couldn't hear a thing aside from the ringing in his ears. His vision came to focus slowly while Gieler was shaking him. He gave a weak thumbs-up and rolled uneasily back to his stomach, looking for his stubber. It lay in the mud, looking reasonably operational. The machine spirit wouldn't like this, he thought, crawling up to the gun. He saw that the Leman Russ that had sprayed him with mud was burning now, not more than fifty feet from him. Mud churned and splashed violently around it and them. Apparently the enemy was still shooting at them, even though he couldn't hear it.

Still somewhat dazed, he wiped the worst of the mud off his stubber and aimed at the hill again. While others rushed past them, he let off a long burst, happy just for the fact that the gun worked, nevermind hitting anyone on the hill.

The Chimeras and the lone Russ were crawling through the mud, firing at the hill all the time. Soon Panzergrenadiers would spill out of the Chimeras and assault up the hill. Poor bastards, Skorn thought. Regular infantry was still way behind them. The distance between the last Chimera and the closest infantry might have been less than fifty yards, but loaded and dressed for combat, under intense enemy fire, in open terrain with no cover and sloughing through mud, it could have as well been a mile.

Skorn ripped off the rest of the belt to the hillside and threw open the feed tray cover. As he tore off the empty ammo box, Gieler was already handing him a fresh one, the beginning of the belt hanging out. They changed boxes and Skorn laid the first round into the feed tray before closing the cover and racking the charging handle. A short prayer escaped his lips. Back here, they weren't doing a whole lot of good. They'd have to get closer. One problem, though: getting closer meant crossing the open no-man's land under enemy fire.

Skorn and Gieler rose in unison and rushed forward.
« Last Edit: September 26, 2010, 07:28:44 PM by Wulf »

Offline Xeno Major

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #3 on: September 28, 2010, 05:39:16 AM »
Rumbling engines carried a primordial sound across the muddy battlefield. Troopers on either side shuddered or cheered as Leman Russ Battle Tanks and Chimeras roared into the fight, thudding over assault ramps into no-mans-land. Their orders were to support an infantry push for Hill 29188, which, as far as Gunnery Sergeant Aedan Varth was concerned, was a scrap-heap left from the last engagement. Varth was in command of the Semper Fidelis, a Gryphonne IV-pattern Leman Russ Conqueror. Beyond him was the other members of his platoon, another Leman Russ and six Chimeras packed full of Kriegers.

The enemy had only started to return fire when Varth got the signal to engage. With a thunderous outburst the Conqueror beside him, the Death before Dishonor opened fire, flattening gun emplacements as they rode on. Varth ducked his head down below the lip of the turret and slammed the hatch behind him.

"Fire at will!" Varth called down the cramped interior. His gunner hit the firing stud immediately, having already selected a target. The loader stepped up and rammed in a fresh shell almost as quickly, as the duo settled in a quick firing rhythm. Load, aim, fire, repeat.

Varth glued his face to the viewing slit as the top of Hill 29188 disintegrated into dust and rockcrete when his gunner, Corporal Jory Tabris, managed to hit an ammo stockpile.

Death before Dishonor fired once more before return fire blew off its right tread housing, making its other tread churn wildly in the mud, slowly spinning Death. As Varth watched, Death roared its defiance again, its sponsons and hull-mounted heavy bolters eliminated the rocket position that tore off its tread.

“We’ve lost our right tread, and are stuck in the mud in no-mans-land, repeat, we are stuck.” came the calm, ordered voice of First Lieutenant Darrian Theron, the commander of Death. The vox shuddered and burped with distortion of the electromagnetic interference, but the modified comms. rig held up.

Varth spied another anti-tank position aiming for Death, the primitive rocket-tube being reloaded. Without a word, Varth tapped Jory and point simply to the tube’s location. Within seconds, the ditch in front of the enemy trench exploded, sending blood and mud and metal high into the air.

Semper Fidelisdrew level with Death as Varth’s sponsons and hull-mounted heavy bolters roaring out a staccato dakkadakkadakkadakkadakkadakka. The Chimera’s had already outpaced the brutish Conqueror, and  Varth saw troops of the Krieg Death Korps charge out of loading ramps and straight into enemy fire.

Two of the Chimera took direct hits from man-portable rocket-tubes or grenades quickly, the loading hatches still streaming with men. They shuddered, and belched smoke and fire as the explosion found the munitions store.

Another rocket screamed past the Chimeras , striking Deathdead on. The Conqueror’s fat cannon crumpled, and Varth quickly voxed a warning.

Death, they’ve scoped you out, bail out of there!”

“Acknowledged.” came Theron’s calm voice again, as his crew clambered out of the top hatch. The last two, including Darrian, paused briefly enough to detach the heavy stubber from its pintle mount. The crewman carried a box of ammo, and Darrian the stubber. They hustled out of the way and into a shell-crater populated by two Krieg Death Korps men.

“Darrian, get your men out of there.” Varth voxed. The little figure of Darrian paused briefly, then climbed into the crater. His crewmen ran back to the lines, but Varth didn’t see the LT with them.

“Guns, with respect, do your duty and let me do mine.” came Darrian’s voice as he opened fire with the stubber.

Varth gritted his teeth, but continued to isolate targets of priority for Tabris, who annihilated them in a hail of fire.  
« Last Edit: September 30, 2010, 04:20:28 AM by Xeno Major »
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Offline Necris

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #4 on: September 28, 2010, 10:33:10 AM »
Gran cursed his bionic as he hobbled along his men moving along in low stoops through the no mans land, they cleared razor wire with practised ease as they moved forward to join the scout forces. He paused as a shot rang out sharp and hard a solid slug weapon, no one carried by any Imperial Guard around him.

"Down! take cover!"

His shout rang out as one of him men dropped his head a bloody ruin

"Damn a blast they knew we were coming, get into covering positions for the rest of our men, vox the scout party find out if they are still alive!"

He levelled his las carbine and looked down the length of his weapon, there in the dark he could see shapes of the enemy coming through the waste of the no mans land, tall figures in heavy armour with autogun led thinner wraiths of men in drab clothing of robes and work fatigues they moved in disciplined lines like proper soldiers of the guard.

"Hold fire till they get closer."

As they move closer he could make our the helms of the armoured figures the professionals of the enemy they helms fashioned into the horrific visages the monstrous beasts they served, a mix of colours from dulled reds to vibrant purples and sickening greens and swirling rainbows. He took aim and let his breath out before pulling the trigger and putting a las bolt through the face plate of one of the red ones.

The line opened  fire and all hell broke loose as as the two sides exchanged fire. Oban moved to his side as a rocket propelled grenade screamed through the air it's detonation killed half a dozen of his men and drowned out Oban's words.


"Scouts are forward sir, stuck in a rat trap as it were."

"Damn and bugger, vox back to the major alert him to what's what and get me some armour up here, this attack has all gone to viss in a high wind!"

He turned and fired dropping one of the skinny wraiths as he rushed the line, the corpse rolled into view his face cut upon with long spiralling lines, the wounds were old the cuts scabbed over but they were self inflicted, what had befallen these souls to turn from the Emperors light and cut upon themselves as such.

"Kill em all lads, no mercy for the traitor."
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

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Offline Wulf

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #5 on: September 29, 2010, 06:55:28 PM »
Skorn and Gieler rushed past the burning Russ, using the thick black smoke billowing from the burning carcass as cover. They were slipping and sliding half the time, while every now and then a round or beam came uncomfortably close. Of course, it could have been worse. Like every good guardsman knew, things could always be worse.

Skorn dove into a depression in the ground, perhaps natural, more likely a shell crater. Gieler jumped in behind him. There were already two Korpsmen, plus what looked like the tank crew from the destroyed Russ, in the tiny shelter. Skorn was a bit surprised to see that they were still alive, nevermind fighting. One of the Korpsmen yelled something at Skorn, judging by the movement of his respirator, but Skorn couldn't hear anything, still deaf from the blast. He shrugged his shoulders, peered over the edge of the depression, and burst over. It was far too crowded in there for his tastes. Gieler followed him instantly.

No sooner than immediately after they had rushed off, the crater was raked with las-fire. Skorn didn't pause to see if anyone had been hit. He didn't have time to stop, not without giving someone a nice stationary target, nor did he really have time to help the wounded either. The Chimeras were already disgorging their living cargo and if the infantry didn't gain a foothold on the hill before the Panzergrenadiers were annihilated, all their effort and blood would have gone to waste.

Skorn and Gieler ran, their lungs feeling like bursting, panting and breathing raggedly inside their respirators. Skorn could hardly see due to the mud in his respirator lenses, but he knew which way the hill was. And that was where he was headed.

The Panzergrenadiers had burst from the Chimeras and were drawing all of the enemy fire. Poor bastards, Skorn thought again. They were getting everything the enemy had and they were being cut down without mercy. But their sacrifice gave the infantry time. Skorn winced as he watched the withering hail of las- and stubber fire pulverize Panzergrenadiers making a mad charge out and up the hillside. Skorn dropped to a knee and motioned for Gieler. It was an insane risk, stopping out in the open, but they did anyway. Out of pity for the Panzergrenadiers, or out of brotherhood, neither really knew, but Gieler threw open the tripod and planted it in the mud. Skorn slammed the heavy stubber into the tripod and took aim at the top portion of the hillside. Gieler made sure the belt wasn't twisted and then dropped down beside Skorn to observe his fire.

Skorn opened up on the hillside, raking the hilltop with short bursts aimed at wherever the enemy fire seemed to be coming from. Gieler had to produce his dinged-up pair of binoculars to see much of anything, but once he got them out, he was pleased with what he saw. Enemy infantry that was firing down at the Panzergrenadiers were getting shredded by Skorn's fire. Skorn didn't even see who he was shooting at, but he saturated the whole area with rounds. And not only Skorn. Other support weapons joined their fire to his, as well as the Chimeras multilasers and heavy bolters. Not to mention the booming shots of the remaining Leman Russ.

The insane charge of the Panzergrenadiers had cost them the majority of their number, but given the infantry time to set up a firebase and now the hilltop was taking instead of dishing out punishment. Slowly fire superiority turned to the Korps and to his surprise, Gieler even saw the few remaining Panzergrenadiers push forward with flamers covering foxholes and hurrily dug trenches in promethium. Regular infantry had reached the foot of the hill as well.

Perhaps the day could after all be won.

Offline Necris

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #6 on: October 01, 2010, 04:44:02 PM »
It had all gone to hell, the enemy were pushing forward and forcing the line to bow Gran was holding the line as best he could bellowing orders between bursts of fire with his las carbine, a dozen were down some screaming some just laying silent, he growled as a series of shots slammed into his bionic leg but when he stepped forward the mechanism within moved smoothly, with a half laugh he waved his men forward.

"Onward Lads let drive these bastards back!"

Elric pushed men forward shouting at them to keep their heads down as he sent men forward in support of Gran his his boys. Roose and his dammed Provosts stood a short distance away bellowing at the men ordering them into the battle their long swords drawn and brandished in a threatening manner, it made him look at the twin blades at his hip another sign that marked him out as a low born man.

"Jed, take your men left, flak round and drive forward lets see if we can turn them."

Jed nodded snapping his arm left his men moved instantly turning left they headed out into the no mans land skirting the cover they paused fired, paused moved, kept low and hidden behind the hard cover as the heavy weapons moved up to give supporting fire.

"Major Snow!"

He snapped round as Luska came up followed by his command staff.


"Orders from the lines, your troops are to move east to support Colonel Krastor."

"Why what's happen?"

"They are being overwhelmed by a heavy assault he can hold the line but can't force a push."

"What about the Rusticars?"

"They will not commit to an assault until they have a clear run."

"Understood sir, I'll need support to pull my men out."

"Why do you think I am here."

Luska stood turning he bellowed behind them.

"Up and forward men or Carthax!"

The heavy troopers stood moving forward past the Vergasti their hellguns held firm as they advanced firing into the enemy ranks.

"Kur, I'm leaving you to pull the men back regroup and follow my lead."

He drew the rest of the men to him, Luska moved up beside him.

"Your new orders are to push forward, and advance on Hill 29188, the enemy have a command bunker there we're to take it an open up a hole in which we can force our troops through."

"Understood sir, consider it done."

He offered a quick salute and then turned to his men.

"Ok boys lets go rescue the Rigante lads."

It rewarded him with a laugh as he led them off
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Offline Wulf

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #7 on: October 02, 2010, 10:20:33 PM »
Skorn threw open the feed tray cover once again and laid another belt into place. They'd already gone through two belts from where they knelt in the mud, blasting away at the hillside. Gieler pushed his binos into his pocket and it looked like he shouted something.

'What?!' Skorn yelled at him, pointing at his ear.

Gieler probably sighed, at least his body language looked like that, then motioned forwards and pumped his fist twice in the air. Let's go.

'Yeah! The barrel's starting to heat up too,' Skorn yelled and detached the stubber from the tripod. Gieler folded the tripod and picked it up. They legged it towards the foot of the hill, ploughing through the mud of the no-man's land. By the time they reached the slope, they were panting again and drenched in sweat as well as mud. At least the enemy fire had lessened.

Arriving at the foot of the hill, Skorn came upon a corpse with the chevrons of a Feldwebel and with vox-unit on his back. The handset lay in the mud beside the dead man's left hand and a short autogun was gripped tightly in his right hand. Grustorp. Damn.

Without thinking, Skorn stopped beside the dead Feldwebel and picked up the autogun as well as Grustorp's map-case and bandolier of ammo. Gieler shouted something at him when he removed the vox-unit from the corpse and tried to hand it Gieler. He tried again, and Gieler again shouted something, pointing first to his ammoboxes and then at his head.

'Are you nuts?!'

At least that was what Skorn figured he said. No matter, they couldn't let the company vox get lost in the mud, so Skorn practically forced the vox on Gieler, for the simple reason that he couldn't still hear a bit. At least Gieler could listen to vox-traffic on the tac net. He threw Grustorp's bandolier around his shoulder and hung the autogun on other shoulder by its sling.

Here, on the foot of the hill, the fighting was relatively tame compared to the hail of lead and laser in the no-man's land, or the lethal barrage directed at the Panzergrenadiers. Upwards, the firing was fiercer, where Krieg infantry and the Panzergrenadiers were clearing what remained of the trenches that had sometime been dug there. At least the offensive had regained some semblace of order, instead of being just a mad rush through enemy fire in the no-man's land. Skorn started to slog uphill, carrying the heavy stubber in a low underarm assault position. Accuracy from such a stance was apes***, but any engagements would happen so close anyways that there was no need for pinpoint accuracy.

Skorn wiped the mud from his respirator lenses with his sleeve. All it really did was smudge them almost worse. He cussed and kept pushing onwards. He couldn't hear a thing, but the churning of mud and earth at the hilltop caused by the las-fire and striking bullets was impressive. The chimeras were blasting away with their multilasers glowing hot and heavy bolter shuddering with recoil. Skorn felt a passing moment of malicious joy. It was always better to give than to receive. Now it was time for the traitor bastards to get what they had coming.

The fighting was fiercest in center section of the hillside facing their lines. Skorn and Gieler pushed on, past dead and dying Korpsmen and Panzergrenadiers. They had been riddled with bullets and horribly scorched by laser fire. No open caskets for those poor sods, Skorn thought as he passed them.

The further up the hill they got, the more enemy rounds and laser beams started to streak by them. They got low, crawling along the ravaged hill, crawling, rushing and diving from one shelter to another, using whatever little intendation in the ground for cover. Finally they reached what seemed to be the company command post halfway up the hill. Skorn recognized Unterfeldwebel Hildeberg, apparently the acting company commander now that Kraust and Grustorp were dead. Hildeberg spotted them as they crawled up to him and seemingly shouted something, waving his hand further up the hill.

Skorn looked at him like he was retarded. Gieler answered something, then unstrapped the vox-unit from his back and handed it to Hildeberg. Hildeberg looked like a kid on Candlemas. He immediately picked up the handset and spoke into it. Then he paused to listen until speaking into the handset again. This conversation with someone at the other end continued for some time, then Hildeberg nodded and put the handset away.

While Hildeberg was speaking into the handset, Skorn watched the action on the hillside. It seemed that the enemy had a few emplacements up on the hilltop which rained heavy weapons fire down on the troops trying to advance up the hill, while the main force of the enemy infantry was retreating. As Skorn wondered where they were retreating to, he saw it. A massive metal door in the face of the hill. An obvious bunker, or shelter.

Suddenly, Gieler grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him into the mud, diving on top of him.


The world exploded in a maelstrom of fire, mud, steel and pain. He lost all sense of time or direction and he felt like he was being hammered from all sides. The overpressure and the vibrations felt like he was caught in a tornado. His head felt like bursting with each explosion and he lost track of how many of them there were almost immediately. He blacked out, losing all coherent thought. All he could think of was that he was going to die any second now. Then yet another blast rocked him again, causing him to go numb all over. Then a wave of pain engulfed him while yet another round exploded. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he couldn't think. He might have screamed, although he couldn't tell. He most definetely wet himself, but he didn't notice at the time.

The artillery barrage fell on the hill for a good five minutes.

When the world stopped shaking and his vision started to come back, blurred as it was, he felt like he had been caught in a giant wave. He tried to move, but his limbs refused to obey him at first. He was hurting everywhere. Then he felt the weight of Gieler upon him. He felt something warm on his skin. Some of it was sweat, some urine, some blood. Not all were his own. He tried to move again, as feeling was returning to his limbs gradually, mostly in the form of pain. Gieler didn't move. Skorn tried to yell at him to move, but then he realized it. Gieler was dripping blood on him.

Son of a...

The sudden panic gave him strenght to move and he pushed himself free from underneath Gieler. Gieler rolled over, falling silent in the mud. Skorn gasped and ripped the respirator with the broken lenses from his face. Now he could see Gieler was shredded with shrapnel. His helmet was full of holes and blood was seeping from between Gieler's respirator and helmet. The back of Gieler's trenchcoat was shredded and his back was a bloody mess underneath. One of his arms was cut off under the elbow.

Skorn ripped the respirator off Gieler's face. Underneath it, Gieler was pale, still and silent. It was obvious he was dead. Skorn, a hardened veteran of the Death Korps, called heartless by some, froze for a second. Gieler was his best, perhaps only, friend. He had just died on foreign soil, saving Skorn's life in the process. As heartless as Skorn was, a small tear rolled down his face.

Dulce et decorum est pro Korps mori... It is sweet and fitting to die for the Korps.

He felt so hollow. So alone.

Acting on instict instead of conscious thought, he lay Gieler down in the mud and looked for his weapons. The heavy stubber lay in the mud, ammobox ripped off and the feed tray cover open and bent. He groped around mindlessly, looking for something with which to make the enemy pay for Gieler's death. His hand fell on Grustorp's autogun. He gripped it, raised it up and checked the magazine and the chamber. The mag was full. There was a round in chamber. He looked up and saw that the enemy were making a push out of the bunker. They had already gained a foothold outside the entrance and were spreading out, pushing back the Korps infantry still dazed and stunned by the shelling.

Skorn grabbed a box of grenades from the corpse of Hildeberg and threw it around his neck on a sling.

He rushed up the hill, powered by adrenaline and the grim need for vengeance. Closer to the enemy, he brought the autogun up and took aim at the closest enemy. It was a man in dirty and muddy flak armor over equally dirty and muddy overalls, shooting at someone with a lasgun. The bastard was no soldier, not even a man. He was a fool driven on by the soldiers beside him, men in dirty fatigues, flak armor with obscene symbols and grim-visaged helms. A lowlife, nothing, less than a man. A dirty rotten scumbag, forsaken by the Emperor.

Skorn cursed him and his ancestors and shot him in the face.
« Last Edit: October 02, 2010, 10:31:10 PM by Wulf »

Offline Xeno Major

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #8 on: October 03, 2010, 05:27:47 AM »
“Who the hell ordered that artillery barrage?!” demanded Varth, his anger rising. Corporal Tabris looked up briefly, before shaking his head. BAM! another round detonated on the hill, ahead of the swarming Kriegers.

“Boss, that’s the same barrage that was supposed to start half an hour ago.” Tabris reminded him. He frowned.  “And you know that.”

“I know when the barrage was to start, what I want to know is who ordered the barrage so I can shove a lasgun up his ass!” Varth roared.  Varth was shaking with rage now, and could barely see out of the Fidelis’s viewing slit.

Jory shook his head again.  Varth threatened and swore plenty, but fortunately his common sense, and his crew, kicked some sense into him before he could fulfill his rabid oaths.


Darrian Theron was many things, but a coward was not one of them. As lasfire stuck down one of the Kriegers inhabiting the fox-hole with him, Theron jumped up with his heavy stubber and charged towards Hill 29188, his driver close behind.

Duran Brosca was his driver, a dedicated man in his late 40s and unlike Theron, he was not crazy prepared and thus was not wearing full flak armor. He bent down for a second and quickly took the downed Krieger’s heavy flak jacket and leather storm coat. Grasping his cut down autorifle, Brosca took off after his commander.

He found Theron firing full auto on top of a defensive trench, hosing the enemy cultists with lead. Brosca joined him, cutting down the swine with quick bursts of fire. The enemy was in disarray and had no clue. It was a complete traki shoot.

Theron and Brosca jumped down in the trench, moving on. Theron stormed ahead, his battle-lust in full rage. Brosca followed carefully, and paused for a second at the sight of a small gap in the flak boards. He stopped, pulled a crowbar from his jacket, and started heaving at the miniscule gap. Theron didn’t even notice until Brosca’s cry of alarm.

Theron sprinted back, to find Brosca holding a bloody crowbar with his back to the trench wall as lasfire poured out of a narrow opening in the hill. Theron pulled a grenade out of his combat webbing, but Brosca shook his head no. He gestured for Theron to back up, then he plunged his crowbar into the trench wall, scaling it in a matter of seconds. Brosca quickly lay down, holding his autorifle at the semi-opened door.

The door slowly creaked outward, a smoking gun barrel sticking out of the hole. A cautious head followed it, and then Theron opened fire, ripping the man to pieces.  Theron’s fire also spun the concealed door farther open, where Brosca could see the entire dugout.

Brosca had to hand it to the heretics; foolish as they may be in combat, Emperor did they know how to build fortifications. Nonetheless, Brosca killed every tainted man in the dugout. He scrambled back into the cover of the dugout, just in time for Theron to yell and shoulder-check him, sending Brosca sprawling into the dugout.

Brosca cried out, demanding an answer when he caught the barest hint of what Theron had heard: the high pitched whistle of a descending shell. Theron had almost closed the door when a body dove into the shelter.

Brosca leveled his autogun on the man, just as Theron slammed the door shut and lowered the heavy bar to block entry.

“Don’t shoot don’t shoot!” cried the man from the floor. “I’m Imperial, just like you!”

Brosca lowered his gun and offered the trooper a hand. Theron dropped a lamp-pack on a table and lit up the room. The light played with their bodies and glinted madly off of racked guns and ammo. Brosca had been right not to toss a grenade in here. Theron moved among the guns, restocking his ammo for the heavy stubber as he let it rest.

Dirt fell from the ceiling and the crude flak board bracing shook with the rumble of the shells. The Krieger stood up with Brosca help, and panted, out of breath. He had sprinted to catch up with the crazy tankers. Whoever said tank-boys were bad at fighting clearly hadn’t met these psychos.

Brosca began checking the bodies to make sure they were dead when the Krieger gave a gasp and called them over.

“You need to see this.” he said, pointing with his free hand. Brosca and Theron joined him, looking at the little shrine in the back of the dugout, blasphemous symbols spread liberally over it shining with an unholy light.

“Don’t look at it,” Theron ordered. “It will drive you mad.”

The Krieger destroyed the fane, blasting it apart with retina-searing shots from his lasgun. When their ears had stopped ringing and their  eyes throbbing, no trace of the heretical shrine remained.


“Yes, I’m telling you to stop the bombardment!” Varth voxed as he pointed the driver to a large ditch where the tank could go hull-down. Jory fired again, shooting geysers of mud and blood into the air.

“Yes, I understand the rank difference between us Captain, but what you need to understand is that you are killing our troops more than the archenemies.”

Semper Fidelis stopped in the shallow ditch, only its turret protruding to show the enemy a target. They were close to Hill 29188, hiding in the shade of it. The hill’s anti-tank emplacements had already been silenced by them or the Kriegers, so now the Fidelis was shelling the trenches to the side of the hill, weakening the position for a later attack. Eventually, even that fell silent as Corporal Tabris eliminated every fortification in sight.

The hill was a smoking ruin, but the artillery fire was finally moving past it, deeper into the enemy lines. Tabris looked down to his commander, and saw Varth’s forehead creased in concentration as he relayed the progress of the assault to command.
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Offline Necris

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #9 on: October 03, 2010, 11:02:31 AM »
Elric led his men like ghosts keeping low they hugged the terrain like the experts they were, coming up on the Rigante's position he called a halt with a silent hand gesture, the noise of the battle rang out all around them but not before them he gripped his weapon tightly as he led scouts forward cresting a ridge and peering across an empty field. Krass his lead scout slid up beside him.

"Where the hell are the Rigante?"


He pointed out the dead and then gestured towards the heavy emplacements they'd assaulted.

"They ran into a death trap, poor buggers, take half the men and circles round to the south I'll lead the other half north."

"Whats the plan?"

"I'll act as a distraction you get close enough andd set charges we'll blow them to hell."

He moved leaving Krass to gather the best scouts and lead them off he moved to the north gathering his men into fire teams he ordered the attack, rockets flew out streaking through the air they impacted against the emplacements, they were tough well built and took the bombardment, the return fire was heavy as four heavy flak cannons opened up tearing up the land. It forced the men back into heavy cover and Elric ducked behind a ruined tank.

"Well we know what got the Rigante."

He moved rushing across the open ground he fired at the emplacement with his las gun leaping as the cannons tracked him he rolled into cover came up and threw a grenade with his bionic arm his range was massively improved and he landed the frag grenade within the closest of the emplacements. The weapon went silent an he could see figures rushing from the grenade as it detonated. A second later and las fire flashed from behind the weapons then they all fell silent.

"Up and forward boys."

They charged head long towards the weapons slowing as Krass came into view.

"Charges are set sir."

"Prime them for two minutes and move out the hills our target."

The troop moved away from the emplacements watching as they exploded bright blossoms of fire lighting the night sky.

"Vox HQ tell them what' happened and order another troop forward to fill this gap."

This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Offline Wulf

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #10 on: October 04, 2010, 11:01:08 AM »
Skorn dove into a trench, the near perfect bellylanding earning him a face full of mud. He cussed, spat and scrambled to his knees. He pressed against the side of the trench and using it as support slipped and scrambled to his feet. Damn mud was getting everywhere and making it hard to run, although sliding around and lowcrawling were easier thanks to the reduced friction. Skorn shook the worst of the mud off of his autogun and changed a fresh mag from Grustorp's bandolier into the magazine well.

He knew that one of the more soldier-like enemies had been shooting from a foxhole connected to the trench some distance away. He snuck a lightning peek around the corner of the trench. No-one. He circled the corner slowly, autogun in low assault position, barrel aimed down the trench. His heart was pounding and he breathed heavily. It wasn't exhaustion only. The fire in the no-man's land had dulled the adrenaline rush somewhat, especially since he couldn't hear the shooting or the impacts, but now that he was almost at a touching distance of the enemy, the fear and the excitement surfaced again.

He snuck down the muddy trench, crouching to present as small a target as possible. He cursed his deafness. It would have been rather helpful to hear where the enemy was shooting from, but he had no such luck. He had to rely on instict and memory. And pray that the enemy was either pinned down or too stupid to linger in one position for long. As he neared another corner, he slid Hildeberg's grenade box open gently and as quietly as he could.

He started to circle the corner excruciatingly slowly. Wait! Movement! He stopped, thinking he'd seen someone or something moving behind the corner. He took a step back and slid his hand into the grenade box. Pulling out a Korps-issue stick grenade, he kept the autogun aimed at the corner. He brought the grenade up to his face, bit on the trigger cap and pulled it. The fuse should be set for three. He counted to one and a half, then tossed the grenade over the corner and further down into the trench.

He still couldn't hear the blast, but the flash of fire and flying mud signaled that the grenade had gone off. He even felt the rush of air coming from past the corner. Stepping up to the corner, he pushed the autogun around the corner and hosed the trench blindly. When the gun ceased to fire, he changed the mag. With a fresh mag in place, he took a lightning peek around the corner. A shape lay in the middle of the trench, torn up by the grenade. Skorn didn't know if it had been dead before he hit it with the grenade, or had he fragged a corpse. No matter, he now controlled this little section of the trench.


Someone was coming around the next corner, a dark shape stalking slowly forward, lasgun raised. It wasn't a Korps-issue Lucius patter no98, so Skorn gave him a warm welcome with a half-dozen rounds. The figure registered impacts, falling back, but then it returned the welcome with three laser beams in quick succession.

Emperor damn it, armor.

The beams sizzled and flashed on the trench wall near the corner Skorn was hiding behind. He gave the enemy a little more to think about with another three rounds aimed about shoulder-high at the corner the enemy had retreated behind. Then he ducked behind cover, only to watch a las-shot impact on the wall across from the corner.

Tough son of a...

Suddenly Skorn felt a concussive blast of rushing air sweep overhead, yanking his helmet forward and then mud rained everywhere. The wood supporting the trench wall splintered as shrapnel slammed into it. The enemy had tried to grenade him, the bastard.

Skorn stepped out from behind the corner instinctively. He guessed what was coming, but didn't have time to think things through, just react. The enemy were rushing, two man-like shapes in ragged flak armor and helmets, lasguns blasting. Skorn blasted them both with what remained of his maganize. The first figure collapsed, hit in the unprotected legs and bulky flak vest. The second stumbled on his mate. Skorn tracked his fall with the last of the rounds in the mag, the autogun barking on full auto - the only firemode in actually had.

The second figure was hit in the helmet straight on. While the others rocked the helmet and ricoched in whatever direction, one round hit the helmet solidly and punched through. The figure collapsed like a wet rag and lay still.

The first enemy tried to scratch and claw forwards, towards its lasgun fallen from its grip as it was hit. Skorn rushed forward and kicked the lasgun away. The figure looked up, human eyes behind the gruesome facemask widening as Skorn changed to a fresh mag and shot it in the face.
« Last Edit: October 04, 2010, 11:12:55 AM by Wulf »

Offline Necris

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #11 on: October 04, 2010, 01:39:29 PM »
The Reivers were running hard now covering the ground with ease as they moved across the lines, tight groups of soldiers moved spread out across the line as their major led the way forward of the rest showing just why he was the major and they his soldiers.

"Where the hell are the rest of the guard?"

"Already assaulting the hill, we'll head for the base link up with who ever is there and then lead the attack as per."

His fist punched the air and the line stopped dropping low, a pair of grenade detonations had flashed up ahead and followed by quick bursts of fire.

"Trenches, Kars, Krass get your squads left, Yeal, Lipp right, Fern with me."

He moved forward edging in the darkness towards the trench his bionic eye allowed him to see perfectly in the dark and to pick out details often missed as he came within a few feet he picked up on the single shot from an autogun, one of his men pulled a frag grenade from his belt.

"No, could be ours, we go over with las and steel."

The twenty men behind him drew one of their blades as he did before following their officer as he pushed from his crouched position covering the space in a few long strides he jumped over the lip of the trench, landing heavily he slid a short distance before he came up lasgun swinging round he locked onto a lone figure standing over two corpses, his men landing round him he put up his weapon seeing the masks the dead wore.

"One of ours lads!"

He slid his blade back into it's sheath stepping towards the soldier who's own gun was levelled squarely at him, his men started to secure the trench.

"Lower the weapon boy, we're on the same side."

This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Offline Swarbie

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #12 on: October 04, 2010, 02:25:20 PM »
"Dammit," said Sergeant Rhys Davies, leader of 2nd squad, 1st platoon for the Auzzian 23rd. "We're stuck here. Their firing positions are too good."

His squad was currently situated in a large shell-hole in the middle of no-man's land. They had dragged their multi-laser up to the edge of the hole, and its shriek could be heard even above the sound of artillery.

"Nonsense sergeant," replied Commissar Ignat Fross. "We will charge the enemy, and will prevail by the providence of the God-Emperor of Mankind."

"Like hell we will sir," said Francois, the squad's marksman. Commissar Fross span around, his eyes blazing and his bolt pistol pointing at Francois's head.

"You will ob-" His words were cut off as the butt of Sergeant Davies' laspistol crashed into the back of his head. The commissar crumpled to the ground, mud coating his white trench-coat.

"Best make it look realistic," said Davies, and shot the commissar in the leg. "Now remember boys, Commissar Fross here, Emperor bless 'im, was about to lead us on a glorious charge when he was hit in the leg, fell back in the hole and hit his head."

"Yes sir," replied his squad. 

"Alright. Francois, see if you can take out a gunner or two. Jonas, what's the lie of the land?"

Jonas, his dark skin beaded with sweat, pressed his augmetic ear to the ground. He listened, making sense of the dull thuds and scrapes.

"There's a series of trenches about fifty meters ahead," he said. "Manned by heavy men, in iron boots. Our heavy infantry should be making an assault on the west edge of the hill. They've cleared some of it. Heines' squad is in another hole, twenty meters to our right."

Francois took a shot. "One down," he called out.

Jonas continued. "We're stranded. Heines is our closest friendly, and he might as well be a mile away if something doesn't change. There . . . there's something else . . ." He closed his eyes, screwed up his face in concentration, and slowed his breathing.

"Two!" said Francois.

Jonas opened his eyes. "Stalk-tank! Sixty meters to our front. It's moving closer, but headed towards the section we've already taken."

"Fine by me," said Davies. "They can deal with it."

"No. They don't know it's there. They can't see it past the fortifications. They aren't even firing their weapons. We need to warn them."

Davies nodded at Himmler, the squad's yeller. Although he had requested a vox, Command had denied his request. There weren't enough to go around apparently. However, Heines had managed to get his hands on one.

Himmler raised his voice, and prayed that Heines still had his vox. If he didn't, things could turn ugly for their side.   

And I saw her body burning,
With it, my world
To dust returning

Offline Wulf

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #13 on: October 05, 2010, 05:00:19 AM »
Skorn paused. He didn't lower the autogun, instead keeping it tucked in tight to his hip, as he watched the newcomer say something he couldn't hear from the ringing in his ears. But he wore some sort of imperial uniform, even if it wasn't a Korps uniform, although thanks to its nature, Skorn reckoned he must have been some sort of recon man. Great. Just when they needed assault engineers. Ask for a hammer and you get a screwdriver, so typical. Well, at least they were some kind of reinforcements. The other men were following the first man's lead, so Skorn guessed he was some kind of officer.

The man sheathed his blade and spoke to him this time instead. Skorn looked at him passively, then pointed at his ears.

'I'M FRECKING DEAF! EXPLODING TANKS AND ARTILLERY,' he yelled without actually meaning to.

The officer looked at him like he was dumb as well as deaf. Skorn shrugged and then the man yelled something, leaning in close. Skorn could only guess what it was, so he answered based on his guess.


The officer seemed to shake his head, although he could have been just having a quick look around to assess the situation. Then he asked something again, with no more luck than the previous time.


The officer said something, then bellowed to his men, and they ghosted off. Skorn shrugged and turned back towards the bunker. Shot at all the time, scared out of your wits, with hardly the time to stop and have a decent look without someone trying to kill you, hell yeah, it was hard to know what the heck the situation was. 'Fog of war', right. 'Scared ****less' would have been more accurate in Skorn's opinion.

He saw a wave of promethium wash over a section of the trench. Panzergrenadiers at work, he guessed. The last remaining few. He didn't look back, but the trek through the no-man's land and the climb up the hill had been bloody to say the least.

'FRIENDLIES,' he yelled at the top of his lungs. Then he repeated it three times for good measure. The flamer crew seemed to be working their way away from him, luckily. Friendly fire, although there was never anything friendly about fire no matter who it came from, was not his preferred method of exitus. He stalked off after them, until they were almost at the door of the bunker. One more corner and then a long stretch of straight trench would lead them to the bunker door.

The flamer crew were kneeling at the corner, catching their breath. Skorn trotted up to them and huddled up next the two. The fuel tank carrier gave him a thumbs-up. They shook hands, the first three to reach what seemed like the edge of their objective. Almost there, was the collective thought.


The flamer crewman pointed at his ears. Deaf, just like Skorn. Damnit. Skorn drew the tactical sign of a heavy weapon in the mud. The crewman nodded, then raised two fingers and pointed to each wall of the trench.

'Scheisse,' Skorn hissed under his breath. There wasn't much they could do. The long stretch of straight trench made for an ideal kill box. They'd need a shield, or a tank, or... whatever. Or they needed someone to break in from the other side. Perhaps the recon boys could do that.

In the meantime, Skorn realized he needed a respirator. The acrid smoke of the battlefield and the promethium fumes were starting to sting his throat and sinuses. Only now, when he had a bit of time for a breather, he registered the smells, or the stench, of battle. The air reeked of cordite, ozone and promethium, as well as of blood, sweat, urine, s*** and mud. So different without the respirator. Interesting, but rather unappealing to say the least.

He slapped the crewman on the shoulder, motioned that he'd be back, then headed off back down the trench. It didn't take too long to find a dead soldier no longer in need of a respirator. Skorn relieved the fellow Korpsman of a respirator after checking it for bullet or laser holes and cracked lenses. Nothing. Emperor bless him. Skorn took off his helmet, realized it was pretty banged up, but still in one piece. He considered raiding the dead Korpsman for a helmet, but then again, this one was his, nor did it really feel right to treat the fallen fellow like an armoury. Still, Skorn rummaged through his corpse for ammo and grenades. The gefreiter had been carrying a no98, so no luck with autogun magazines. Skorn wasn't about to change the short and handy if a bit underpowered full auto autogun for a bulkier singleshot las-rifle, so he settled for taking the one stick grenade he could find instead.

After donning the respirator and making sure it was snug and airtight, he returned to the flamer crew. Then they waited, hoping someone could crack the bunker. Or at least bring them a shield and a melta charge. And where were the navy glory boys and their Marauder Destroyers or Lightning Strikes as well? The one time you needed a decent divebombing... frek.
« Last Edit: October 05, 2010, 08:29:33 AM by Wulf »

Offline Necris

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Re: Life of the Guard
« Reply #14 on: October 06, 2010, 12:04:37 AM »
"Emperors teeth."

Shouted Gran from the back of the trench causing the Auzzian's to snap round raising their weapons Gran's men mimicked their gesture as their officer waved the weapons down.

"Keep it down lads, we can hear you half the battle field away, and even these foul heretics can zone in all that noise your boy is making."

The Vergasti lowered their las carbines as Gran stepped forward.

"Sergeant Gran Dust, Vergasti Reivers."

The Auzzian officer blinked as move men moved to the crater lip keeping low they looked out over the field before them eyes alert and watching for any signs of the enemy, he gathered his thoughts and took Dust's hand.

"Sergeant Rhys Davies, 2nd squad, 1st platoon, Auzzian 23rd."

"What's your situation Sergeant?"

"We're pinned, enemy fire is accurate we believe they have marksmen, they've been picking us off for the best part of an hour."

"Show me."

Davies moved to kneel beside their marksman pointing out before them.

"Gunners are out there somewhere."

Gran nodded looking over his shoulder.

"Max, get the shooters into play lets led these boys a hand the major has enough men to push forward, send a squad over to that other crater we'll coordinate an attack and push forward."

"Sergeant Dust?"

He turned looking at Davies.

"Gran, we use our first names half the men here are called Dust."

The men murmured behind them as they moved off to their duties.

"Lass what do you reckon?"

A figure stepped from the rest moving up beside Gran he looked out across the killing field.

"Seems doable, there's plenty of cover for us to use we should be able to get close enough for charges."

"Do it."

"Are you mad?"

"Watch us work sergeant."

Lass rose stepped to the lip of the crater and rolled over, half a dozen men followed and then they slid like snakes across the ground.

"Sir? I heard a stalk tank out there, sixty meters in that direction."

He turned looking at Jonas, he keyed his vox speaking low and quickly.

"Tank, heavy weapons into position track and fire only when you have a clear shot."

He turned back to Davies.

"How many men you got?"

"About a hundred."

"Right I have three hundred and thirty six with me, all spread out across this area, our target is that hill there following on from our main block. Fora Vox the Major let him know our situation we're staying put here, these boys need out help."

Gracus slid into the crater he'd lost his peak hat and his bald dark head scanned round his eyes falling upon the downed commissar, his attention shifted to Davies.

"What happened to your commissar sergeant?"

His voice was a low growl full of threat as he moved to Gran's side looking out beyond him.


Major Elric tapped Skorn on the shoulder gesturing for him to let him past moving to the lip of the corner he peered round for a second before stepping back into the trench for a second he stared blankly they looked past Skorn at his men behind him.

"Two rocket troops, krak rockets up and forward, send Kras over the top see what he can find."

He waved the Korps men back as two of his own men stepped up.


He paused then stepped out into the trench waited for a second then stepped back in, a series of gun retorts echoed down the trench tearing the ground where he'd been standing. He held out his hand to Skorn gesturing at the stick bomb. Reluctantly the Korps man handed over the grenade, he turned and tossed it with his bionic down the trench smiling as it thumped against the bulk head.

"Get ready."

Krump the grenade detonated and he shouted.


The two men stepped out dropped to the knees and fired the pair of krak rockets screaming down the trench they impacted the detonations washing back towards the men as they threw themselves clear. Elric stepped out looking at the door and frowned.

"That's a tough bastard, Kras?"

"Nothing doing I can't get close enough to charge it and throwing the dammed things won't work."

"Pull back to the trench."

He gestured for the Korps men to follow him as he strode back down the trench.

"Fern vox the artillery batteries get me some pin point breachers on that bunker door."

He gestured and shouted his orders

"To the sides, artillery incoming."

This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog