Hobby Challenge:

Get this Stormraven ready for tabletop by big game, which is first weekend in February.

Narrative Mission: When the levee breaks

I've stolen some ideas from GW on this, theres a "Chelsea" mission in the Exterminatus rule expansion that dealt with a wave crashing over some forces killing civilians.  Call this running with the theme.  Please let me know what you think.

When the Levee Breaks - a 100 power level mission for Project Mayhem

The fluff part

After being pulled back from the defensive duties guarding the transmitter stations against the siege of Iron Warriors, the Marines Errant have left the company of the Sisters of Battle and Imperial guard to dive through the jungles toward the 7-8 Dam, in Sector 85b. Transmissions bounced from com-link to link, antenna to short-wave radio. Instructions were mixed, details were hazy. Still, one thing was for sure. They were bringing three predators in tow with their armored transport column, and would arrive at the dam by morning.

Upon reaching the dam after a relatively uncomplicated evening foray (they had to pause to exterminate some charging ambulls in Sector 84a), the Marines found what looked to be a large group of hedonistic rebels engaged in a looting spree amongst some civilian transports. These transports had once been commissioned for an evacuation of a zone miles away, and they had made it just miles from this site before being slaughtered to a child. The rebels had dismantled most of the internal combustion engines and slapped together what essentially was a large, steel reinforced, multi-barrel Molotov cocktail. When the Marines cleared the brush to engage, the bomb detonated at the foot of the 7-8 Dam structure, and water began to pour out from the two-story high hole blown in its structure. Thousands of gallons of water per second began to pour onto the field, washing all terrain and debris toward the two forces.

The Errants, hoping to salvage what they could from this mission, were ordered to jump forward and grab as many objectives as possible. The hedonists, quite proud of the job they had done, have decided to keep what they can and high-tail it out of town.

This is where our mission begins.

The Rules Part

This is a narrative mission, using mostly boots, tanks and guns. It is understood that one side will not come to the table with a whole shit-ton of knights or flyers.

Both players will deploy perpendicular to the dam structure. The Marines Errant will deploy up to 12" onto their board edge. The Noise Marines (Chaos) and their allies will deploy 12" onto the board edge on their own side. Three chaos units may be held in reserve as "looters."

Eight objectives will be set down the middle of the board, each player will place four. They should land more than 18" away from a board edge, except at least two should be near the dam and at least two should be near the other end, and can violate this restriction.

DEPLOYMENT.

The Chaos force will deploy first, holding looters in reserve. 

The Imperial force will deploy next, up to 12" away from his board edge.

Infiltrators are deployed normally. 

Next, the Chaos force will place 3 looter units upon objectives. It should be noted that these objectives are not yet revealed, so the Chaos player has no idea what objectives he is actually putting his forces upon. These units must be placed with one model at least within 1" of the objective, and no looting models from the same unit may be within 1" of two objectives. 

THE WAVE

A string will be laid at the base of the dam. Every turn the string will be moved in a straight line toward the opposing end of the table. Any unit, objective, or terrain piece it comes into contact with will be immediately removed from the board as a casualty. No saves of any kind are allowed, and Chimeras are not immune to its destructive effects. No exceptions, really, except units that are flying. 


Turn one, objectives will be replaced with suitable markers for their respective identifications. Each one will be rolled for, but will be treated differently by each force.

1-2: Wounded citizen. The objective will be replaced by a citizen model. Each player turn, the citizen will be moved 3" away in a straight line away from the dam, unless prevented doing so by a model or terrain.

3-4: Transmitter. The objective will be replaced by something mechanical looking. This is a transmitter, used to beam signals into low orbit. It is stationary.

5-6: Improvised Explosive. The objective will be a bomb of sorts. It can be "picked up and moved" as a relic. A model carrying the improvised explosive may detonate it at any time, however it causes d6 moral wounds to its carrier, a mortal wound to anyone within 1" of the carrier, and 1d6 normal wounds to any unit within 6" of the carrier. Carriers of the relics can be any model that has at least one "hand." A hand is defined as a literal hand at the end of an arm, or a power claw, fist, dreadnaught close combat weapon, "grabbing stick," what-have-you. This designation will be strictly left to the model and its appearance on the table. Models without any sort of "hand" cannot carry improvised explosives. Chain reaction: if an improvised explosive is detonated within 6" of another improvised explosive, the two will detonate simultaneously and damage will be compounded. A player who successfully detonates three or more improvised explosions in one phase will be owed a drink of choice from their opponent.


HOW THE TEAMS REACT TO THE OBJECTIVES

Citizen: Imperial infantry units that come within 1" of the citizen will rescue the citizen. It will be scored as 1d3 victory points. Chaos units that come within 1" of the citizen can either hold him hostage (+1 command point per turn) or execute him on the spot (+1 victory point). If a citizen is rescued he is removed from the game. If a citizen is held hostage, he moves as a virtual model with the unit he is with. He does not fight or shoot, and will begin to run again if the unit he is with is destroyed.

Transmitter: Either force (Chaos or Imperial) that comes within 1" of the Transmitter may "open a channel" at the end of their movement phase. The transmitter will begin transmitting data about the battle to their allies nearby. While a force has a channel open, they may, at the beginning of their subsequent turns, either score a victory point or a command point, their choice. Units that have a channel "open" (within 1" of a transmitter) that are destroyed by the wave will lose one victory point due to the confusion and / or panic it causes on the "other end of the line."

Improvised Explosive: Holding onto an improvised explosive at the end of the game is 1 victory point for the Imperial team. Detonating an improvised explosive is worth one victory point to the Chaos team.

At the end of the game, the winner is the one with the most victory points. Having the "last units on the board" will be a tie breaker. There will be no victory points scored for First Blood, Kill Points, Linebreaker, Slay the Warlord, or any of that nonsense.

The end.

Wisdom of the Ancients.

Iron Warriors, clad in vintage terminator armor, assault the main bastion of the Imperial stronghold.

Forward! Face them at the front!

St. Joseph.

Project Mayhem. Chapter One.

The Mercian Homecoming.

The standard workouts and weapons maintenance of week-three-day-seven had gone methodically and according to routine.  After dinner, Jake sat in his cell, elbows on his knees, rubbing his face from his chin to his short-cropped black hair.  Ever since it had been torn open by a five-pound slab of red-hot scrap metal, his forehead tingled in a band running from one temple to the other.  Replacing the normal wrinkles that ribbed his brow, now a deep crevasse, still not fully healed, made a pale frown above his eyebrows.    His fingers paused to try to become familiar with the scar.  It still felt very new, however it had been over a year since the jungles of Chargis III.  There,  he had fought the traitorous Bandrois Conspiracy, where he gained this mighty scar.  It made for a great story: his platoon commanders had slagged two Scout Walkers trying to outflank them.  The first of these gangly two-footed contraptions had just fell to its knees and collapsed, its pilot boiling in his own cockpit.  The second one detonated, and sprayed them with shrapnel.  All went dark after this, and Jake woke up with this huge head wound.  His men had helped him out of the swamp, tied bootlaces around his head to keep him from bleeding out.  When he awoke he couldn't remember anyone's name for a week, yet now it seemed like a good memory.  He closed his eyes and held on to it.  He began to sink deep into this memory, drifting away from where he was.  Away from his cot.  Away from the sweat dripping through his fingers.  

This is when the buzzing noise started.  It was so soft he could barely hear it.

Jake turned his head up at the sound of the chime.  He stood, straightening out his pants legs as he arose.  His shoulders snapped back into their attention posture.  The chime rang again.  It was not unpleasant, much like a chord of five tones, lyrical and slightly muted as to not be offensive.  It was loud enough to wake a soldier from his sleep, yet not disturbing enough to cause annoyance.

"Umber.  Sir," Jake stoutly called into the air.  "I've drifted off for a bit, my apologies."

Jake tried to look at attention despite the complete lack of any kind of video feed on board the transport.  The Lathekin-99 was nothing more than a cylindrical bus for transporting bodies from one vessel to another.  Its compartments held very little in the way of amenities, as the Lathekin craftsmen it was built to shuttle on their weekly commute would only spend twelve hours- eighteen maximum- from the food processing centers orbiting JYLN-55 to the landing ships that would bring them to the planet's surface.  Each of its five decks held one hundred eighty rooms,  each outfitted with a cot, a small sink, vacuum toilet and a light, no windows.  There was not much room for anything else.  The pilot of the ship was a mindless servitor, there were no recreation halls or simulation chambers.  The men met in the hallways to talk, cramped passages dimly lit and full of stale air.  Most men, at this point, stayed in their rooms most of the time, making little noise or complaint.  The Lathekin-99 was a silent cylinder, drifting like a coffin through interplanetary space.  It was not designed for this kind of travel, but desperate times had brought this plan.

The company commander's voice came from the small speaker located directly above the head of the cot.   The speaker was a small disk of metal that protruded from the wall.  The words "Interoom Intercom System - Narendra Corporation" were etched into its circumference, white letters on shiny red aluminum.

"Jake.  I think I've got this figured out.  We are essentially on a secure circuit.  I needed some of the Ab's to cut some wires, but I think we can talk.  So no need for formalities."  The voice was from Nikolaus Umber, a voice that sounded full yet raspy.  It always sounded as if Umber was trying to be quiet with his voice, yet he could be heard in the next room.   Positions like company or platoon commander had a relatively high turnover rate in the PDF, yet both Nikolaus and Jake had survived their positions longer than most.  Both of them secretly held a fear that they would both become old men.  This mutual fear had allowed them to be rather honest with one another.

"Listen, Jake," Nikolaus continued after a brief pause where he had expected Jake to say something.  He let out a bit of a sigh, and hoped the Interoom Intercom hadn't transmitted his exhalation as loud as it seemed to him.   "You know I've never really understood that incident with the commisar on Chargis, right?  And I've never forgotten about what happened on that bridge."

Jake winced.  This was Nik's attempt at an apology.  Umber was reminding him about the hostages, as if that was payment- in a sort of even exchange- for errors made on the bridge.  Jake just didn't want to go through it.  

"Listen Nik, I get it," Jake spoke into the air.  This was one time he was glad they couldn't be speaking face-to-face.  "We're just going to have to do what they say.  The sooner we can get back to Chargis the sooner we can figure everything out."  There was another pause.

"I'm... concerned," Umber replied, and then started again on a more whispered tone than usual.  "Worried about that pull back.  Worried about Larry and all them down there."

"We secured the ravine," Jake countered, "just a little jaunt across the system and we're back.  Just keep your cool. okay?  Larry can hold it. "  Jake could feel his heart racing again.  His mind was racing again for no good reason, and that tingling sensation prickled the crevasse in his forehead.

And the buzzing noise.  There was that buzzing noise again.  Jake felt that he needed to talk over the top of it as it grew a little bit louder.

"Tanks, Nik.  They've got tanks.  And we've got the gas to run 'em.  We help them out, we can convince them to come back down with us."

Umber hissed out of the speaker.  "Those were black, Jake.  That was black Mark VII.  I know you don't believe me, but I was up on that hill.  You expect them to come back?"

Jake could hardly hear the last few words Umber said.  The buzzing, droning noise filled his head.  It was if cicadas were buzzing in the ceiling, in the walls, next to his ears.   It was hard to ignore, and Jake began to drift, listening only to the buzz.

"Jake?"  Umber could hear nothing from the small aluminum disk, just the omnipresent flutter of the guidance engines that dotted every yard of the 100 yard long Lathekin-99, as each fired small jets of liquid propellant in constant course-correction succession.    

Jake looked down at his boots, ragged leather permanently stained with black mud.  "We're doing the right thing," he shouted, and roughly sat back down on his cot.  The cot bucked back and complained in response.  He rubbed his forehead roughly with his calloused fingertips. 

Then the buzzing stopped again.  But only after Jake laid down and went to sleep.

certainly not finished yet, but the direction I'm heading is there. I've got another four on the bench.

So I finally picked this stuff up from my FLGS. I still can't believe that an Apothecary or "Ancient" which used to be an honor guard banner bearer, are 4 WOUNDS. It's just so weird.

I've got a game tonight vs NGC40k Pete, Power Level 130 with the restriction that 50% cannot be Space Marines. I pointed up my list last night and I've got A chaplain in terminator armor and a Libby in terminator armor escorting some thunder hammer termies, Thad Allens tacticals in a drop pod, a small scout squad and a predator. Plus some 5man tactical squad to make it a qualifying battalion.

I've got IG for the other half, 4 units of infantry on chimeras and storm troopers and the paskquisher and Jake Taffton. Command squad, a commissar, and some Ratlings.

It should be fun to see the ratlings and scouts work together. Also, with the terminators, stormtroopers, and drop pod tacticals I should have a pretty good mid-game drop, hopefully there will be enough room on an undersized table.

opening rounds to dale-Con.

a study- made into a panel.

a new Christ face.

a work in progress. Using Rembrandt's Christ as a guide.

Thank you for using Picture and Video Messaging by U.S. Cellular. See www.uscellular.com for info.

This is my second 8th Edition List.

I'll be playing a game against guard this weekend, it'll be an ambush mission and he's taking 75 points, I'm taking 100. We will most certainly using underdog rules and this should be an epic breakout mission for him, we are playing ambush.

I've got 2hq, 6 elites, 3 fast (splitting up the hellhounds) 6 troops and 2 heavies.

My < Regiment > you ask?

It's the Jordaan/ Yarr/ Lathekin: Narendra Cluster Body 55 Habitation Pacification and Relocation Battalion (Local Parish).

Too bad, no psykers or priests AFAIK. So Ooo-Eee and the Ministorum Priest wait this out.

my first 8th edition list.

the terrain set I'm using for my first game of 8th. Lord help me with the new rules.

Sergeant Thad Allen swirls in melee with an Honored Sons biker sergeant with Thunder Hammer.

the Imperium Sallies Forth turn two. Honored Sons approach the redoubts.

final score, 9-11 imperials!

When a Bane Wolf meets Iron Warriors in the open field...

Company Commander Ivan Klepstein consults Primaris Psyker "Ooo-Eee" on the significance of the recently-appeared 8,000 year-old Labor Calendar.

Labor Days Revisited: The Mission.

In this mission, Imperial Guard and an Inquistorial force are combating 30k Iron warriors.  Each force will contain 3000 points.  Terrain will be light urban.  Night fighting rules will not be used.  Six fuel cashes (objectives) will be placed in the "no mans land" between the two deployment zones, evenly spaced.  A terrain piece called the "Calendar" terrain piece will be placed close to the board edge of the Imperial side. 

The board will be Hammer and Anvil (short board edges).  The Imperial player will set up first, placing his figures around the "Calendar" terrain piece and within his 24" deployment zone.   The Imperial player may not hold any units in reserve that do not deepstrike or outflank.   The Inquisitorial force will not be deployed yet.

Then the Iron Warriors will deploy up to half of his forces.  None of this first half can be held in reserves.  Any of the other half can be held in reserves or "deployment reserves."

Then, the Inquisitorial force will deploy her forces, holding any units she wishes in reserves. 

The Iron Warriors will then deploy his "deployment reserves." 

Both teams will then roll off for infiltrators and first turn.

The game will last 5-7 turns as normal 7th edition rules dictate. 

Objectives:

Iron Warriors:  Capture the fuel caches.  Each objective will be worth d6 points at the end of the game.  Also, a bonus six points will be scored if the Calendar terrain piece is captured and not contested by the Iron Warriors at the end of the game.

Imperial Players:  Disrupt the plans of the Iron Warriors.  Victory points.  Gain one point for each unit destroyed.  Also, gain an extra d6 bonus points if the Iron Warriors do not capture more than two fuel caches at the end of the game.   Gain a tie-breaker point if a psyker is in base contact with the Calendar terrain piece at the end of the game.  If Martok is removed from play as a casualty (not from falling back), the Imperial team may eliminate one scoring fuel cache die of their choice at the end of the game. 

Labor Days Revisited, part 2.

Labor Days Revisited

Chapter Two.

The interstellar cruiser was long, shaped like a large pillar of salt crystal, yet it was jet black with some small accents of yellow striping.   Long range antennas and cannons alike jutted from its irregular nose, reaching out into the purple and green ether that it spun through.  Its aft was cold and dark.  There was no need to expend fuel as one traversed warp-space.  Despite its immensity, the clouds of warp that whirled around the crevasses and niches would have made the ship look small, as if a giant octopus was attempting to open a jewelry box.   The bulkheads that tied the ship together creaked like a wooden ship in a stormy sea, yet everything seemed eerily silent.

Quiet.  Stillness.  Those are the words.  Warsmith Martok slowly opened his eyes after a brief reverie collecting his thoughts.  They were approaching the Mercian system, at least the exit that would translate their ship to the outer orbiting moons.  He had not yet decided which one he would pick to exert his influence upon.

The moons surrounding Mercia, numbering nearly 100, were the source of almost inexhaustible supply- their mines and refineries received, processed, and shipped millions of tons of product per hour between all of them.  Arriving in the system would offer a starship captain 98 moons and one very large ice giant to peruse and purchase supplies.  The only problem was procuring the product.

Mercia offered very little in actual military resistance.  It was still held under the assumed control of the Imperium of Mankind, this was the territory of Guilliman, despite him actually fighting on some forsaken rock a million light-years away.  The problem with purchasing product from the Mercians was navigating the schedules of the corporations.  Each moon had its own distinct calendar system, and arriving at a moon might mean waiting days, or even weeks for assistance from the surface.

Martok had not thought this through.  He didn't have the time, at this point in the war, to waste time waiting for anyone.  He would arrive, and take what he wanted.  Then he would leave.

The deck holding his command throne was small and humble in its decor, functionality was instilled into every aesthetic of the design process.  Small screens flashed data to the eyes of servitors sitting still in three rows before him.  The only other thing of note was the large set of double doors directly in front of him.  Unlike other Warsmiths, he cared not to stare out into space.  Anyone walking into his command room would immediately see his face.  

These great doors suddenly opened, and the power-armored figure of Master Ziggarauth entered the chamber.  The Master of Signals stopped immediately after entering into  the room, and transmitted his data via the command deck encrypted channel to the First-Chair servitor, sitting closest to the warsmith.  Martok had the information in a moment, and responded.  Not a word was actually spoken between them.

Mercia.  We drop out of Warp now.

The room went dark, and a whisper of darkness was audible as the psychic forces from the belly of the ship ached the hull back into reality.   Martok noticed an extra flutter- was it a blinking light?  It spun briefly in his mind, as if he was doubting.  This was an unlikely feeling for him to experience.  He transmitted to the First Chair.

Inform the priestess of an anomaly.  It should be investi-

The transmission was cut short as arcs of warp energy shot through the ship, and something large collided with the hull.  Lights across the deck turned a sickly-amber color, and klaxons blared.  The First-Chair compiled the data and began an emergency broadcast.

Impact on Sectors 17, 18, 19 and 25.  Damage within toleration limits, drones state active.  Error strings found in navigation systems as follows.  Coordinates: error state.  Visual confirmation: error state.  Deep field sensors: error state...

It went on like this, but Ziggarauth and Martok had stopped listening.  They had instead connected a channel directly between the two of them.  Immediately after another collision.  This one was larger.  The entire ship trembled.

Ziggarauth, what is this?

The system is gone, the Master of Signals replied,  we are in a debris field.  Navigation is compromised.  We do not have a bearing.

Something had happened to Mercia.  The planet itself was gone.  In its place was a debris belt wide enough that sensors could not penetrate it.  The hundreds of thousands of beacons that normally shone out when arriving in the system were gone.  The only logical conclusion was that Mercia had been destroyed.  Something else was wrong as well.  There were changes in signal strength, changes in the Astronomicon, beacons were missing, replaced, or had seemingly moved to different locations at impossible speeds.  The ship could not right itself and slammed headlong into a giant ice-crusted comet.  A second klaxon blared.  This one was more shrill, and should have sent panic through anyone able to feel panic on board the ship. 

Breach.  Sector 5. Drones: error state...

Ziggarauth had already transmitted the order to ignite the main engines, and the ship burst into life.  The pounding of steel-clad boots on multiple decks created their own rumbling through the floors.  The legionnaires were moving to the drop ships.  Martok bellowed out an order, this time using his voice and the intercom, rather than use a proxy.  

"We shall land upon the first body we find, and gather what we can find.  We will need fuel to leave this disaster, and to get back on course.  We care not of who we find.  We are taking what we need."

He had little time.  There were larger battles to fight.  His legionnaires were needed elsewhere.

We are approaching 55, the Master transmitted.  This was the Mercian system.  WAS.  The war had moved quickly.  Something had happened here.  Something was still happening here.  Evidence of orks.  Evidence of xenos, unidentified.  And what was this beacon on 55?  It was inelegant, strange, a warning.  A beacon that almost sounded like someone was saying, "Stay away, we have nothing here."  What were these strange names?  Yarr?  Lathekin?  Martok knew not of these leaders.  The servitors came up with nothing as well, with their thousands of databases to access. 

This could not bother him.  The engines fired and  the ship lurched toward the planet, debris still colliding with the bulk of the ship every few seconds.  The noise was astounding.  Martok almost wished he was back in the cursed warp, listening to the quiet whispers of silent gliding.  His mind drifted, momentarily...

Drop ships in range.  Martok received the signal and departed through the double doors, Ziggarauth sharply at his heels.  He began touching the minds of all of his men, coordinating their landing procedures and simultaneously picking a spot upon the surface to begin their assault.  

Hive city: Yool...

Information was still being fed to him as his dropship released from the bowels of the starship and drifted into the periapsis.  Flames began to lick the windshield, and obscured the cloud-covered planet below.

"Close them," he casually ordered, and blast plating lowered across the screens.  It was very quiet for some time. 

 

Labor Days Revisited Scenario

Labor Days Revisited

(with all apologies and credit to Tony Wood)

A 7th Edition 40k and Horus Heresy scenario.

During the Klaeser rebellion, one of the many things to disappear, along with secular idealism, the working-class labor bosses, independent banks and ownership of property was also the standard calendar year instituted on JYLN-55 for over eight-thousand years.

As early as year five of the Horus Heresy, the then-intact, massive frozen planet named Mercia held 98 planetary bodies in her orbit.  Each of these bodies worked upon its own schedule of production, some of them holding days that lasted nearly three times the length of days on other planetary bodies.  Similarly, the orbits of the moons of Mercia often cast simultaneous periods of eclipse upon one another, and these periods of darkness and relative lengthy periods of daytime between made for a haphazard conglomeration of local time zones and tribal holiday observations.  At any given time there could be found over two dozen holidays occurring  upon several different moons, each with their own method and duration.  The Mercia system, being a vital shipping hub for the blossoming fleets of mankind and a supply of fuels for its long-range stellar engines, found itself suffering from regular inefficiency. 

Enter Niral Iruy, an economist on the third moon of Mercia (called Nepreryvka 7), came up with an ingenious plan to keep the multitudes of workers on the nearly 100 bodies in the system working at full speed without a drop in production.  Every citizen in the system (nearly seventy-five billion of them at the time) would be designated a symbol.  Eagles, bears, wheat, books, and imperial letters and icons were all used to define each and every citizen.  The workforce as a whole was shifted from a seven-day to a five-day pattern.  Normally, each citizen would rest on the first day of the week and then work for the next six.  From now on, each citizen would work for four days and then get one day off.  With the relatively simplistic minds of the citizens of the planets all agreeing to the selling line: "more time off more often," the calendar was adopted quickly over a one-year period.  The workforce was divided into their symbols, and massive spreadsheets were delivered electronically to every workstation and homestead.  These spreadsheets showed which days each symbol would work, and which days a particular symbol would have off.  While the working classes appreciated that their day off would come earlier, they found it unfortunate that their times off would not coincide with the times off of their friends or their family members, with whom they would have regularly shared their religious holidays.

What eventually happened, after the dissent was quelled, was a new rhythm of life in the Mercia system.  Over the decades and centuries, it became matter-of-fact that "eagles" would only fraternize with other "eagles," and "bears" would have social engagements only with other "bears," if not just for convenience sake, but also as a sense of commonality, and eventually, kinship.  In fact, in just 400 years after adoption of this calendar system the first of the "Jor-Dann" clans were formed from the workers who had been given the letters "J" and "D," letters which, through mere consequence, aligned their "off days"on the calendar nearly half of the time.  Congruent designations such as these married and had children with one another, and eventually aristocratic families were allowed to assign their children and grandchildren with the same symbols as themselves.  Entire clans of people worked on the same days, had off on the same days, and grew in strength and isolation from other clans formed by other symbols.

On a less personal note, the economic result was astounding.  Mercia practically doubled its production ten years after its implementation, and adherence to the calendar system, now dubbed the Niral System, would become the cultural norm for thousands of years.  While many things would change in the 10,000 years following the Heresy, the Niral Calendar System would survive multiple revolutions, moments of great suffering, and devastating loss of life in events such as the plague of M36.41, the "Splitting" of M38, and the destruction of Mercia itself.

Skipping over thousands of years brings us to the current day, the time just past the Klaeser rebellion.  The Klaeser rebellion reintroduced new thoughts and new ideas to a very ancient system.  One of them was the rejection of the Niral Calendar.  However, its cultural significance could not be erased, and the caste system that it created had been so thoroughly ingrained upon JYLN-55 that even after the calendar's usage had been prohibited the old prejudice remained.

One engineer had designs to reverse the damage done.  The Klebstoff Clan, occupying large swathes of the worker hab-blocks of Yool (JYLN's largest hive city), had been working on some rather ingenious technological advances for the past 70 years.  One scientist by the name of Dwoo Ynot had gathered the collective angst of the Klebstoff Clan into a hypothesis: if he could travel back in time and tweak the Niral Calendar so that the "J" and "D" designations would land one day apart, the rival Jordaan would be effectively wiped from history itself.

Strange things happen in the slums of hive cities, and in Yool one could find Orkoid Freeboota traders and Chaos-tainted traitors alike.  Dwoo Ynot made some dark deals and invented his machine, part Shokk-Attack-Gun and part Warp Gate. When it fired up and instantly detonated, it sent a one-mile diameter area of the hab-slums screaming into the warp and left a gaping, smouldering crater behind.

The planetary defense forces of JYLN-55 were the first on the scene.  Members of the Inquisition translated out from the warp into near orbit soon after.  At the edge of the crater, a conspicuous sign had appeared, seemingly from another time.

It was an early billboard of the Niral Calendar.


To be continued...

specialists on the bluffs.

Ratling Snipers approach the riverbank far ahead of the infantry platoons on the bluffs above.

PC Jake Taffton offers supporting fire as the bridge crossing commences.

shooting and scampering in the riverbed.

Ratling squad continued...

more color on these ratlings

view from the front.

these guys aren't really done, but are getting pressed into duty tomorrow. 50 points.

I got them 2nd hand, primer was thick, and I thought I could recover. Much of the detail is muddy.

got a new airbrush and compressor. Excited to use it soon.

a close-up of a bit of my new terrain, courtesy of Blast Radius terrain.

I'm still floating out here.

Holy crap I got some hobby time in. Some basecoating, and random-junk terrain elements. Part of a creative response. I still have not unpacked from the big game, fully.

Narrative Mission: The Derelict Fragment of the 4B

The Derelict Fragment Orbiting DORIC-AR1

It has been 857 year cycles since the shipping cruiser Kastel 4B collided with several bodies in the outer Doric Belts. The Narendra shipping fleet had been sending its conglomerate influence even this far during that time, delivering bonuses to bridge masters and rogue traders alike to ferry illicit un-tithed cargo to warehouses within this sphere of operation.

The Kastel 4B had been bribed by the Narendra corporation to hide over 500,000 tons of painite ore that was raided from the Vestegah system by Orkoid pirates and then subsequently stolen by agents hired by the Marines Errant, tasked with guarding and protecting the shipping routes in this sector. A year previously, the Errants had reported the cache to House Ecale, but Imperial bureaucracy delayed and eventually buried the report from reaching the Administratum levels.

Narendra agents, picking up on this discrepancy, created a decoy inventory of food rations: turf, water, and fermented liver oil matching the exact tonnage of the painite and jettisoned an empty cargo tug-hold hull into the low orbit of Chargis III, where it burned up on re-entry. This was staged as an unfortunate accident, around the same time a team of servitors and an astropath were found drifting in orbit around Chargis IV.

Their relationship to this incident would be discovered by the Astartes much later. But that is another story.

The Narendra corporation, never reporting the loss of the shipment, then re-appropriated funds to the outfitting of a small, independent shipping agent named Kastel. Their tug: The 4B, was hastily reinforced for carrying a heavier load and during a docking procedure (described in its logs as “mandatory maintenance”) was loaded with the half-million ton cargo. The tug was then escorted by the Marines Errant into the outer reaches of the system, all the while the cargo manifest described: “500K tons of Turf, Water, and Liver Oil.”

The Marines Errant were able to guide the Kastel cruiser through the first of two debris fields surrounding the Vestegah system, however the third consisted of multiple patches of extremely dense debris, too difficult to navigate anything larger than an interceptor through. The Errants commanded the 4B to divert around the field, but at the last moment the 4B decided to make a break for it. This was a misguided decision.

The captain of the 4B was a young 22-year old human named Miltz Aingisni, barely old enough to warrant the position but was catapulted into the position by Kastel executive officers after receiving multiple accomodations from the Narendra corporation. Captain Aingisni was paid half of his bribe (which was a pittance, considering the cargo) upon accepting the mission, and was promised the other half when the painite was delivered to a station maintenance craft in orbit around DORIC-AR1. Captain Aingisni was not used to piloting alongside Astartes craft, and found himself perspiring and panicked after continued comms blared in his headset demanding the confirmation of his location, his exact bearings, his precise headings, his final destination, total number of crew on board, current security status, damage reports, engine efficiency and so on. Any captain worth his salt would know this was what security from Astartes was like: constantly probing for any sense of something amiss. For poor Miltz, however, it was paranoia-inducing torture. When they reached the third belt he was ordered to change course drastically away from his original heading. He decided to take matters into his own hands and run the debris field without a pre-vectored path.

The 4B was never meant for such tight maneuvers to begin with. The Kastels had built their cruisers long and thin in the midsection cargo holds, heavy long-range engines in the rear, the barbell-shaped deck and living quarters in the front. Armament was minimal. Minor blasters and a single lascannon for defense against the kind of pirates that might harass the usual low-value cargo Kastels were known for was all that was needed or afforded. Against a dense field as the outer ring of Vestegah, using them to deflect incoming debris would be like throwing pebbles into a snowstorm. The 4B was quickly struck in the aft thrusters by a long-retired SP-EC-UP communications array station, its jagged wreckage smashing out the rear stabilizers of the flailing 4B. The cruiser pitched, failed to right itself, and the enormous tonnage on board the relatively small cruiser split the cargo holds in half. Inside the bridge, the captain was deafened by the horrible scream of bulkheads stretched to their limit and then torn apart. The engines slammed into a nearby slab of fractured ceramite plating and detonated, scattering half of the painite ore, dusting space with diamond-like clusters. The force of the explosion flung the other half of the 4B, end over end, straight into the thickest part of the field.

The head and upper torso of 4B hurtled on for several more minutes, taking successive beatings from small bodies in the belt. Sensor arrays and complex scanning equipment on the prow were smashed into fragments, while the hull began to take on the appearance of crumpled foil. In the command module sirens blared and the lights went out. Miltz, trying still to pilot without propulsion and quickly running out of options, had spotted his fate through the front visual confirmation portal: a spinning fuel column, 400 yards long and 200 in diameter, a cylinder coated in ice and dust that had been out here since before the heresy. Small bits of metal and rock had embedded themselves in its surface, and it now hurtled toward them like a giant white club studded with rusted knobs. He dashed out from the command module and into the rear corridor. His crew that were not automated servitors broke and ran in all directions, clinging to whatever they could before impact.

Miltz quickly accessed a command panel, activated his command codes and sealed a section of the front half of the ship that contained the life support systems and a large bank of emergency batteries. He had one minute to get there.

If one were to view the collision of the fuel column and the 4B from one side, it would appear that the column would have been spinning clockwise, and the 4B would have been spinning counter-clockwise. The crumpled prow of the 4B brought its forehead up to the descending club of the column, and the collision sent ice and debris outward in an impressive spray. The command decks of the 4B were shorn into three pieces, and the exposure to the vacuum of space sent men and beds and towels and equipment flying in all directions. Water and blood boiled.

The combatants in the match were eerily still at the end, having expended their forward momentum and spin upon one another in an almost equalizing manner. Shards of metal and chunks of hull drifted apart and became part of the belt. The cargo holds of the front section of the ship broke loose but amazingly remained mostly intact. The Astartes escort put all of their further efforts into recovery of the painite ore, of which 45% was eventually recovered. To this day, small-scale scrap skimmers still visit the field hoping to come across a chunk of forgotten ore.


Initially, Miltz Aingisni survived the collision. He and four other men had descended into decks 1 and 2, sealing off lacerated sections of hull around them by closing and welding major bulkheads. While they operated the life support on the smallest amount of power possible, they wouldn’t dare use the short range transmitters to call for help. The Astartes now new the shipment was a theft-in-progress and would blast them from the sky. Their only hope would be to wait in the field until all was clear. In their spare time they had hastily scavenged a solar panel array for replenishing their backup batteries.

After a week adrift in the belt the men had activated a positional RCS liquid propulsion thruster. These were normally used for docking adjustments, and the 4B had scores of them all over her hull. On this small fragment, it could adjust their drift to some degree, and it was decided that they use it to leave the belt to facilitate better communication, and hope their distress call could be heard. It was also the week they realized they did not have enough food, and the temperature of their wreckage-refuge was dropping.

In a few months, they were frozen and starved to death. It didn’t matter which one came first. 4B’s resident vermin population, a little bit more immune to the cold than mankind’s best, ate most of the corpses before succumbing to the same fates as their last suppers. The final fragment of Kastel 4B drifted helplessly into escape orbit, and went adrift for more than half a century, slowly maintaining oxygen levels, quietly pinging out a distress call. The Kastel family was quickly persecuted and executed for treason after this incident, making the derelict fragment of 4B the last remaining vessel of the small shipping business. However the Narendra corporation was never traced to the initial bribe, and things moved on. Things were forgotten over the centuries. The Narendra corporation swelled to even larger sizes, eventually having entire systems named after them and becoming the go-to name in cargo transport for a multitude of systems in the Imperium of Mankind.

THE CURRENT TIME:

This brings us to the present time. The cruiser Entract is stationed in high orbit around the war-torn DORIC-AR1, extremely low on fuel and committing most of its forces to a grinding war against chaos and xenos below on the planet’s surface. This has been going on for years, and the war has taken a heavy toll. Multiple Astartes and Astra Militarum forces patrol the skies and skirmish with enemy forces. Because of all of this activity, this small fragment of a broken ship was barely noticed drifting into the system until its archaic 1,000 year-old distress call was picked up on barely used Imperial channels, now monitored strictly for the sake of being thorough.


*static*…please send aid, this is Miltz Aingisni of the Kestel group, survivors of the wreck of the Kestel 4B. We have been tricked. If unable to help please notify Narendra of our location… *static* {automated coordinates follow}

The wreck was scanned. Data was collected. No life forms on board. Servitors scribbled notes for Astropaths to send. The return message was more urgent than what the Errants may have expected, or wanted.

“Divert tactical resources to investigation of derelict vessel. Expend protocols T1. A7. D9. Boarding and extraction of data slates. Unum Prius Dominantur.”

They were to exterminate anyone found on board. Dataslates that would later be found scattered through the narrow passageways of the derelict, they were also to be collected. Under the utmost security.

Marines were hastily assembled and boarded onto the Stormtalon. There was an open chamber in the port (or what could be called the port) where the Marines could stage "exteriores spatium” and begin to cut open the bulkhead.

Someone else had beat them there.

ON BOARD THE DRACO:

Chief Librarian Lydriis had certainly detected it. The faint whisper. It was like a waft of a scent upon the air of the warp. It was an echo, not audible, but it reflected the death cries of an astropath.

The whisper of the message tugged at his decision making. It pulled his logic. It had transmitted that message, that astropath of old. That astropath from 850 or so years ago. It had been jettisoned, sending psychially into space its anger, its frustration, its inability to conform. This astropath had known something about the wrong person. Or group of people.

Or organization. Or government. It was difficult to make out which.

And this whisper of a message- it had drifted across the centuries, unidentified. Lydriis had first detected while upon a Black Ship, drifting through the Vestegah system. Since then he has become attenuated to its psychic flavor, being able to pick it out amongst the other threads of The Warp.

The data slates had offered a clue. The name? NARENDRA. The whisper intensified if Lydriis concentrated upon the data slate protocols. Something directed the stream when he would read the branding of the cases they were found in.

Why did this vex him? Of all the things that he could occupy his mind with, this one stayed with him for years. The whisper pulled his logic.

“Send a comm,” he muttered at one of three servo skulls hovering and wavering just beyond his enormous red cloak, upon the steel bulkhead of the star cruiser. One of the skulls whined a mechanical whir to attention and a tiny blue light blinked blinked in obedience upon its metallic crest. "Magos Explorator Kel Mortan: more of the pieces of our puzzle lie within this.” An image of the drifting, wrecked hull of the 4B.

“This, too, is worth our time. And our valuable resources.”

The servo skull shivered and darted away. A second later there was silence, exempt for the drone of The Draco’s massive engines sending a low hum thru ought the entirety of the ship. Here, in the observation dome, they were barely noticeable.

But Lydriis didn’t hear them. Nor did he glance down upon the planet below, war raging upon its surface. The war would intensify in the next 24 hours. It would be the perfect time to board the derelict undetected.




RULES:

Players field 1500 point insertion teams. Bikes, vehicles, and other “non-Zone Mortalis” units will be chosen, using formations (not unbound).

Players will divide their army into two sections: a deployment unit, and escalation units held in reserve. The Escalation will be described later.

Players will discuss terrain features, then roll-off. This mission is designed for the Industrial Zone F.A.T. mat.

www.tablewar.com/6x4-industrial-f-a-t-mat-gaming-mat/

The winner of the roll off will choose either Entrance Room 1 or 2. The winner will deploy his deployment unit fully within the room. Player two will follow to do so in the opposite room. Seize the Initiative may be rolled for, otherwise the winner of the roll off will begin the first turn. No reserves arrive turn one, no matter what.

Escalation: Each turn a number of units equal to the turn number may be chosen to come into play from reserve. Two dice may be rolled turn two, three on turn three. All the other normal rules for reserves apply. Players must deploy units that do not deepstrike into their respective Entrance Rooms 1 or 2.

Infiltrators will not be allowed to infiltrate in this game.


SEARCHING OF ROOMS.

There are several rooms that contain lights within them, or have specific colors relating to them. These colors are:

Yellow, Orange, Red, Bright Green, Blue. Yellow rooms are like the #1 and #2 deployment areas. Bright Green look like toxic pits, Red looks like the portal rooms and so on.

Hallways do not have a color designation ever. Just the “room” shapes. Look at the map. You get the idea.

A unit may, instead of participating in the shooting phase, choose to search a room currently occupied by one of its models. This could conceivably count as two rooms, if the unit is big enough to “stretch” between the two.

For each room a searching unit occupies, roll one “Special Colored Die” during the shooting phase. The Special Colored die has one color that matches each colored room and one extra color: Purple.

The player will then compare the color rolled versus the color or colors of the rooms it is searching.

IF THE DIE COLOR MATCHES THE ROOM: The matching colored Evidence is found.

IF THE DIE COLOR DOES NOT MATCH THE ROOM: Nothing happens.

IF THE DIE COLOR IS PURPLE: You gain one “Black Eye Point.”


Evidence:
At the end of the game we’re going to compare evidence. If someone scores a “Red Evidence,” by rolling the Special Colored Die during the shooting phase, he will have completed the Red Objective of the game. However, if the opponent has also scored a “Red Objective” by the end of the game, the two Reds will cancel each other out.

Basically, your Red cancels out my Red. And my Yellow will cancel your Yellow. These are tallied and compared at the end of the game.

Each purple “Black Eye Point” can be used, at the end of the game, to cancel ANY one piece of evidence from the opposing side. However, a purple may not be used score a point. Only cancel an opponent’s point.

A player winning a colored objective will advance the storyline accordingly.

The first color selection is for Mechanicus / Iron Hands. The second one is for the Marines Errant:

Red- “Manifests from the 4B, extracted from dispensary data from secondary buffers indicate that the vessel had been modified extensively prior to this very departure. “

Red- “Several scans of the primary and secondary buffers have detected various instances of malware that has been deemed heretical in nature.”

Yellow- “Communications logs show the final transmissions coming from this vessel were distress signals sent on pirate wavelengths which suggests the crew were purposefuly avoid the channels of the Imperium, or even Narendra Corporation. “

Yellow- “Power consumption tables show, upon extrapolation of their data, that the crew had insufficient power to broadcast on anything more potent than basic pirate radio.”

Green- “Chemical residues in this area prove to be deposits of decayed painite.”

Green- “Adeptus Mechanicus in this area are supplied with spectral scanners produced in factories owned by Clan Jordaan. The Jordaan are not to be trusted.”

Orange- “A manifest explicitly details a transfer of funds from the Narendra Corporation.”

Orange- “There is an abundance of forged files and documents.”

Blue- “The real contents of this vessel: Painite Ore.”

Blue- “A storage locker was found. Inside were remains of Turf, and Fermented Liver Oil.”

Purple- “A Black Eye- information and suspicion about the enemy.”


Again, at the end of the game, Reds cancel out Reds, etc, and Purple cancels everything.
A player on a RED objective may also OPERATE THE HATCHES. These pieces of terrain look like big spiral hatch-like vents. This is also done in place of a shooting attack. A unit may not SEARCH and OPERATE THE HATCHES in the same turn.

Operating the hatches will open or close the hatches immediately, and they will maintain their state until operated again.

When the Hatches are Open, the following rule takes effect:


Cold Void & Poisoned Air

When this special rule is in effect,
the following apply:
•
All weapons and attacks with a
Strength of 4 or higher gain the
Rending special rule, unless their
target has Hardened Armour
or Void Hardened Armour, has
an Armour value (AV) or has a
save of 2+. In the case of attacks
against mixed units, apply these
rending wounds to the more
vulnerable targets first.
•
All weapons and attacks which
already have the Rending special
rule now rend on a roll of 5 or 6,
unless their target has Hardened
Armour or Void Hardened
Armour, has an Armour value
(AV) or has a save of 2+. In the
case of attacks against mixed
units, apply these rending
wounds to the more vulnerable
targets first.
•
Weapons and attacks which
have the Blast special rule also
now cause pinning if they didn’t
already.


WHO WINS THIS SCENARIO ANYWAYS?


No one does. The scenario is just there to create a storyline. The Narendra corporation is actually funnelling money into civil unrest in several large metropolitan areas. However, no one can prove this.

If the Mechanicus / Iron Hands army end up collecting enough evidence to send out some Inquisitorial Agents to investigate Narendra it would stem the tide of weapons and materiel to rebels on the surface of DORIC-AR1.

If the Marines Errant prove the facts state otherwise, Narendra ships will secure even more clearance to the planet’s surface and will be greeted by the rebellion warmly.

The Mech / Iron Hands army is working for the best of Imperial interests, the Marines Errant believe they’re doing the same thing, but have also been ordered to kill anything they see on sight. These orders come from way up, but will, for the time being, help the enemy.

"What are we doin' here Sarge?

...Sergeant?"

I played against the ork trenches. Here, the battle wagons round the corner. Full of Nobz.

I played genestealer cult recently.