Battle Report
Epic Armageddon
Uprising on Fulda Gap
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FROM: Archivist-Servitor XV118-13, Ordo Hereticus Historium TO: Lord Inquisitor Gaemann RE: Archive Request “KARGOS” “EARLY YEARS” “PRE-HERESY” My lord; At your request, I present the earliest surviving account of the traitor Kargos of the World Eaters, also known as “Bloodspitter”. Apparently compiled before the Great Treason, the misguided author presents the Traitor and the Heretic in a favourable light – may the Eternal Emperor have mercy upon his soul! Misguided as it may be, however, this text may help Your Excellency to understand this wretched oath breaker and, the Emperor willing, end his heresies for once and for all. One cannot but wonder what caused such a warrior to fall from the Emperor’s Grace, but it is not mine to make a judgement – my life is to serve the sword and the shield of the Emperor. Yours very obediently, Archivist-Servitor XV118-13 NOTE: Author subjected to standard psycho-erasure pattern. Telepathica probe indicates no traces of heretical knowledge. =I= |
During the Great Crusade, as the Emperor’s legions raced outwards from the Holy Terra, one of the main problems was always the replacement of casualties incurred in heavy fighting against those resisting the rule of the Imperium. Various Space Marine Legions solved the problem in different ways; some set up logistical chains to provide trained recruits from their home world, others recruited potential Marines from a multitude of worlds and trained them in worlds near war zones. Such was the way of the Legio World Eaters. Having a preference for bloody assaults, the World Eaters had to accept the attendant high casualty rate and to compensate for it. After basic training and accelerated gene-seed implantation, recruits from a multitude of worlds were usually trained in recently “pacified” planets to incorporate them in combat units led by selected veterans. Then whole units were shipped as replacements to war zones across the Eastern Fringe.
Training was always tough and realistic, but it was often viewed as little more than a punishment by veteran World Eaters assigned as instructors and leaders – being away from combat while their comrades fought and died was an affront to their martial pride. However, in some occasions the training got more realistic than they had anticipated...
The world of Fulda Gap had been pacified by a combined Imperial Army and World Eater assault about five years ago. Since that time, most of the world had been ruled over by an ambitious Imperial Army commander, General Buhallin. Apparently not content being “only” the Imperial Commandant, he had manipulated his Army units with promises of continuous peace and prosperity if only they were able to cast the yoke of the Emperor’s Rule from their shoulders. Eager not to continue the bloody Great Crusade, the mass of the Army followed when in a public speech he declared the world an independent principality, ruled by himself, and called all “revolutionary elements” to join in fight against “the Imperialistic aggressor”. In the following morning at 0530 Local Time, massed armour of the 3rd Stygian Guards Shock Regiment crossed the “Crimson Line”, the boundary separating major manufacturing centers and spaceports directly under control of Adeptus Terra from the rest of the continent.
At that time, the only loyal forces on the planet were several World Eater training garrisons located near the major spaceport of Brome Haven and manufacturing centre of Sax. Being disinterested in local politics and oblivious to the mood of the populace, the initial uprising took the Adeptus Astartes by surprise. Recovering quickly, however, the training companies eagerly sallied out from their garrisons to do battle against the oncoming tank hordes, in a desperate attempt to slow down the enemy and buy time for reinforcements to arrive from off-world. To that end, it was imperative that the Brome Haven spaceport did not fall and the factories of Sax kept pouring out munitions and equipment for the outnumbered loyalists.
Near the Thyme Plains, about 25 kilometres from the Crimson Line, Company A from the 11th Training Cohort Legiones Astartes World Eaters was already in manoeuvres when the rebel forces started pouring over the border. Reacting quickly to an exercise turned real, Brother-Captain Niem ordered his troops to race for positions in a sparsely forested ridgeline overlooking so-called “Black Forest Highway”, a minor east-west road leading to major crossroads town of Bruck. Anticipating the enemy’s southern flank would try to reach Bruck as soon as possible, he was determined to establish a blocking position in ruins of an ancient Black Forest Citadel and make the once brothers-in-arms to pay for their treachery. As his Company approached the ridgeline, orbital augurs transmitted reports that enemy tank battalion had already detached from the main force and was heading for the very same positions he intended to occupy. The race was on!
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“Alexandria One-Zero, Spearhead Six-One, enemy tanks approaching, praise the Warmaster! Two companies and several
superheavies – Spearhead Six-One requesting permission to engage!”
“Negative Spearhead – return to rally point, we need you here, and praise the Emperor also.” Brother-Captain Niem cut
off the commlink without bothering to hear the Land Speeder squadron leader acknowledge his order. He knew they would
obey, for they were World Eater Space Marines, were they not? Turning his imposing bulk to his subordinates, he looked deeply into each other in turn. Not one flinched from his gaze, and that pleased him, for he had feared that this easy training assignment might turn even a Space Marine weak and cowardly, not fitting to be the Emperor’s finest. Here they were, about to do battle with men they had fought alongside only few short years ago, men they had considered allies only several hours before, and the only emotions Niem could read from his Lieutenant’s faces were those of eager anticipation and righteous fury. “This is it, then. Spearhead confirms the orbital augurs – it seems that an enemy force of two Medium Tank Companies and one Breakthrough Company is coming for us. We all know what we must do, and that we will – embark your vehicles, take up your positions, sanctify your equipment, kindle the fires of battle in your hearts and let no traitor pass! Remind your men that we are the Emperor’s Sword and only the fires of War can temper us. For the Emperor, for the Warmaster Horus, for the Primarch Angron, for we are the World Eaters!” “World Eaters!”, the assembled detachment leaders replied in unison, saluting their Captain and hurrying to their vehicles. |
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While Brother-Captain Niem and his detachment leaders were finalizing their battle plans, the rebel forces had
already made theirs. The battalion commander had no direct access to orbital augurs, and did not know where exactly
the anticipated ambush would be located. Deploying his three companies in a long battle line, he intended to comb the
ridgeline until he located the elusive enemy. Two medium tank companies would climb the gently sloping hill on both
east and west sides of the Black Forest and secure the Citadel; meanwhile his Breakthrough Tank Company would remain
in the centre and a little behind for reserve and support should the Marines choose to fight here. With Land Speeders screening, the A Company crested the ridge just east of the Citadel. Preferring not to split his forces, Brother-Captain Niem was planning to take on the eastern wing of the enemy forces first, and leave just a single detachment to block the rest of the enemy from entering the fray through the Black Forest. With only eight Land Raiders and a meagre amount of anti-tank weaponry, he knew that he could ill afford long-range duels even with tank companies, let alone with super-heavy titan killers he knew his Marines would be facing. This left a gamble for his only viable option: Niem counted on the weakness of tanks in close combat against determined Space Marines, and the old hedgerows on the east slope offered at least some concealment for their approach. |
With forces set and after some abysmal dice rolling on my part, the Guard won the strategy roll and chose to move first. Unopposed “White” Company on the western flank march moved towards the ridgeline, managing to reach the Black Forest Highway roughly on the middle of the board. In an attempt to stop them from flanking my forces, I double moved Tactical Detachment Berlin (under command of Brother Lieutenant Kargos) to the southern edge of the Black Forest, immediately disgorging the Marines. The opponent tried to wake up his superheavies, but to no avail as he failed the initiative test, and they slowly lumbered towards eastern flank from their centre position.
Land Raiders from Assault Tank Detachment Damascus in the east moved forward, coming under ineffective fire from the “Red” Company. As an answer, Assault Tank Detachment Elysium moves to firing positions and lets rip with lascannon at extreme range, causing three hits but failing to take out any of the Leman Russes, their sturdy construction saving their crews from being incinerated in a fireball of oil, gunpowder and flesh. With all three Guard detachments having moved, the remaining Marines advance in cover of the hedgerows. In the end phase, all formations rally and the few blast markers accumulated during the turn are removed.
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Brother Lieutenant Kargos did not need a glance to his augur uplink to see where the enemy was massing. A thick
plume of dust was visible now, about two kilometres from the ridgeline his platoon was about to crest. A chilly
wind spread the plume, smearing it to an ugly smudge on the blue-white stained glass of clear autumn sky. Same
wind was blowing on Kargos’s face, amplified by the rapid movement of his Rhino, but he did not feel the cold.
How had he yearned for that sensation in the years of combat in fully enclosed environment of his power armour,
in the tunnels of the hive cities, in cold depths of space and on the weird alien worlds! This was life, having
a steed of iron roaring underneath, the sky blue, clear and beautiful above, and feeling the touch of the wind
on his face and hair as he was about to do battle against his Emperor’s enemies – against his enemies. And Lord
of Battles willing, today he would reap great honour in the name of his Legion, he thought with a smile born of
total confidence in himself and his superiors. With that thought, he woke from his reveries, switching his comm-bead
to the platoon channel. “Squad leaders, prepare to turn on the armour’s camouflage, but wait until we are clear of the ridge – no sense to keep those renegades from seeing with their own eyes, that their death is here!” To his right, from the other side of the Citadel, he could already hear sounds of battle. Many would meet the Warrior’s fate today. |
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This time I did win the strategy roll by clear numbers. The first action went very obviously for the Detachment Damascus Land Raiders, who sustained fire on the Red Company Leman Russes, but causing no damage. I retained the initiative and advanced Detachment Elysium to firing range, but again their lascannon fired in vain. Curse those Leman Russes and their thick armour! Fearing the worst, I had to give up the initiative. Red Company falls back to get out of Elysium’s range, takes firing positions, lets loose with battle cannon and lascannon, and in a few seconds Brother Lieutenant Coyl’s and Sergeant Amos’s Land Raiders are reduced to flaming wrecks. The first blood goes to the enemy, not a good sign!
Almost desperate to score some kills, I move the Land Speeders behind Red Company, as with their short-ranged weapons only one Speeder would have been in range to do a pop-up attack. Not a wise move, as it turns out soon, but blasting with their multi-meltas with the benefit of crossfire to the Land Raiders, they manage to blow up one Russ and cheers can be heard from across the World Eater battle line.
Meanwhile, White Company forms into a column and advances towards Lieutenant Kargos’s blocking positions, firing on the move. One battlecannon round explodes in the tree line near Kargos himself and a lascannon beam probes a Rhino left in an exposed position, but plasteel and ceramite armour save the day for both. His troopers return fire with pinpoint precision, destroying one tank and giving me at least some reason to smile.
In the centre, Captain Niem leads his troops to the edge of the hedgerows and shouts orders for his missile launchers, which open fire but only manage to put a single blast marker on Red Company.
There is vengeance in the air as the superheavies roll forward, and soon the unlucky Land Speeders feel the power of three Shadowswords. The Baneblade fails to cause any damage but, unsurprisingly, Shadowswords turn three Speeders into balls of superheated steam, quite appropriately breaking the formation. The remaining two retreat uphill, out of sight from the monsters lurking behind the woods. To that I have little to say, except to order the remaining Tactical Detachment Cairo to break out the melta-bombs and prepare for an assault. To that end, they move up on the road on other side of the hedgerows, dismount and fire at Red Company, causing a hit which is (I see a trend here) saved.
In the end phase, I manage to rally all formations, and so does the opponent. Some blast markers are left in Speeder, Damascus and Red Company formations. (Forgot to use the Red Companies Commissar’s “Leader” Special ability.)
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The battle had not begun well. His untested tank crews had problems penetrating the enemy armour, one of his
best tank commanders was horribly wounded and in all likelihood dying, and in a flash which even from a range
blinded his auto-senses, glory-seeking Spearhead Six One had just got himself vaporized - exchanging three precious
Land Speeders for just a single Leman Russ in the process. Brother Captain Niem was not angry to his subordinate
for getting killed, for such is the fate of a warrior and the young lieutenant was probably already offering his
explanations to the Gods of War, but the Captain did not like the win-loss ratio so far. And report from Kargos on the west flank indicated that the second tank company was attacking their positions, though Kargos had sounded confident enough telling that he was going to stop them from flanking the beleaguered Marines. However, eight feet tall, muscular and an imposing sight even for a Marine, he was not a man to doubt himself or his battle-brothers, nor a man to give up no matter how hopeless a situation would seem. Even if they all were about to die today, at the very least they were still World Eaters and would take some of their enemies with them. Armed with that thought, the aged veteran of countless campaigns under innumerable suns, one of the small number of original World Eaters who had followed the Emperor’s banner from the sacred Terra, one of the even more select few to receive their Valiant Service implants from the hand of the Warmaster himself, Brother-Captain Niem felt no fear - only a disturbing doubt, a depressing thought of the futility of it all, of the futility of dying on this unimportant world, fighting against mere men after a century of service combating foes too terrible to mention. Even though he felt his duty was to motivate his men and remind them of their duty with rousing speeches of sacrifice, he did not want to squander their lives fighting for lost causes. It was not his voice which ordered his troops to prepare for an assault. |
Won strategy roll again. Captain Niem barks orders to the comm-net, and Alexandria and Cairo Detachments charge the Red Company Leman Russes. Only four stands, not including the Captain, make it to base contact. Ensuing firefight wrecks two Russes, but at cost – four Marine stands perish. The battle is a draw, and a second round of slaughter ensues. This time only two Marine stands get into contact, but otherwise the fight goes better and in exchange for three Marine units an equal number of Leman Russes get melta-bombed. Unfortunately, despite having overwhelming advantage in numbers and blast markers, the dice roll goes against the World Eaters, and the both Marine detachments break, losing a stand and a Rhino in the process – but so breaks the Red Company, making a frantic retreat move (even though they didn’t have to, being winners and all) towards their “Big Brothers” aka Shadowswords!
(Note: We both made a number of mistakes here, both tactical and rules-wise. First, I shouldn’t have made the mistake of using the Land Speeders on the previous turn in a futile attack when they would have been much more useful in the firefight. Secondly, I did not manage to get the Captain on base contact with the tanks, or more stands in base contact for that matter. And thirdly, before the assault I should have first fired at the Russ detachment with the Land Raiders since even one destroyed Russ would have made the difference. Ruleswise, we ignored that you throw two dice and pick the highest, which had a great impact since he rolled a 6 and I rolled 2, when my dice roll modifier was greater by two points! For the retreat, we used the “They Shall Know No Fear” rule as it was printed on the pdf rulebook, which is out of date as far as I know. In addition, I should have moved the Rhinos to the front when it was clear that I couldn’t get more Marines in base contact, since those units closest to the enemy are removed first – now I ended up with more Rhinos than Marines, which clearly is not a way to go!)
After the debacle with immortal Leman Russes, I retain the initiative and Kargos’s detachment sustains fire on White Company Russes trying to force their way around the edge of forest but still out of charge range. Kargos had obviously trained his Marines well, for his gunners take out the lead tank…but the remainder advance and fire - the aforementioned Rhino in exposed position, as well as one Marine stand, are not lucky this time and both buy the farm.
I’m somewhat hesitant to move the Land Raiders in pursuit of the Red Company Leman Russes, as the Shadowswords would make short work of them, and instead I try to cleverly box the White Company Russes with my remaining two Speeders by speeding them via Black Forest Highway towards west. VERY BAD IDEA, since now they are (again!) in view of the Shadowswords, which promptly dispose of both. At this point we start paying attention to the victory conditions, and notice that my opponent would have won by achieving the Blitzkrieg and Defend the Flag conditions, had he only stayed put with his White Company - at the start of the turn they were well within 15cms of my objective...
At the end phase, every formation rallies.
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As the World Eaters charged down the road to the rebel tank formation, Brother Lieutenant Harren was at the fore.
Screaming his battle cries to the horrified tank crews, a figure of Fear Incarnate, his chainsword whirring and his
bolter thundering as he ran towards the nearest tank he could see, oblivious to the angry tracers and the clouds of
dust they kicked from the ground, unaware of the punishing fire which reaped his comrades both left and right, the
only conscious thought in his mind was an imperative urge to slay as many as he could. With a mighty roar, the
Marine jumped effortlessly on top of the nearest Leman Russ, its turret turning right and left, left and right
in a desperate attempt to locate its tormentor, but for nought as Harren pulled a bundle of melta grenades from
his belt and thrust them through the tank’s engine grille. Jumping clear and rolling on landing as the pressure
wave from the tank-turned-fireball hit him, he immediately pumped bolter rounds through the next tank’s driver
vision slit. Having spent his few melta grenades, he ascended the second Leman Russ and started to rip the
commander’s hatch open. With his superhuman strength enhanced by his frenzied state and his Mk6 armour, the hatch
gave way and in an instant his bolter was alive again, its heavy rounds turning the tank’s commander into a mush.
Ducking a las-bolt, he flung a couple of micro-grenades inside. Amidst the explosions he heard muffled shrieks and
he felt happiness. Brother-Lieutenant was at his element. Appointed as the Lieutenant of Detachment Cairo, he had always hated to be an instructor. Somewhere deep down, he knew he was doing an important job to further the cause of the Emperor, that his trainees would bring glory to the Legion, but that knowledge did not make him feel happy. Although ever obedient, for long months he had sorely missed the thrill of battle as the rage that boiled inside him - the lust for blood that was always gnawing at the bottom of his stomach - did not subside. He was happy only when he had an enemy ahead of him, a bolter kicking in one armoured fist, beating a rhythm to a chainsword screaming its song of death in the other. Some of his trainees had openly feared him; he hated those, too, as he hated weakness of any kind. After he had killed one particularly annoying weakling in assault training, the Captain himself had sternly warned him and arranged a transfer from training duties for several months. Although he had liked his other duties even less, he did not hate the Captain, as he respected leadership and strength, and the Captain had both in seemingly unlimited amounts. So, despite his requests of transfer, he had remained on the side of his Captain on this miserable world, incapable of even training proper Assault Marines as all of the rare and precious jump packs coming from factories were sent to their brethren in active war zones. What he really hated on this planet were those puny humans who masqueraded as warriors, and this morning he had been very happy when the Captain had announced that they would have a chance to kill them. Traitors or no traitors, he would have liked to kill them anyway. A movement caught his eye, and before he even consciously knew what he was doing, his instincts had turned him on top of the smoke-belching wreck and made him shred the fleeing sponson gunner with two well-placed shots. He was now alive; he did not pay attention to the bloody battle raging around him or the fortunes of war turning against his battle brothers, and even had he noticed it, he would not have cared about anything else except the ways to slake the thirst for blood. And so he did not neither know nor care when a questing flicker of a las-targeter beam intensified and solidified into a retina-searing flame of las-cannon, transferring megajoules of energy into his armour in microseconds, turning the proud Lieutenant into incandescent cloud of boiling molecules and his valued armour into unrecognizable pieces of white-hot shrapnel. In the field and in the forest, in the countless other places throughout the Crimson Line, the Emperor’s terror troops known as the World Eaters killed, and killed, and died, and died. They did not give quarter nor did they ask for any; as was the tradition of their Legion, any who stood against them on the field of battle would die, either a warrior’s death, or a coward’s, that did not matter - to the hulking brutes clad in armour blue and white it was all the same, as long as they died. |
Again a six on the strategy roll. The Land Raiders double moved to face the tanks of the White Company; shooting had obviously improved, as they managed to knock one out. Kargos’s detachment advances in cover of the woods, joins the fray and, reliably, another Russ starts to burn, it’s running crew being cut down by bolter fire. On the Guard player’s turn, he retreats his remaining White Company Russes with march move back to the road. The western attack being thwarted, the rest of the turn sees my remaining A and C detachment Marines taking hold of an objective near the hedgerows and the superheavies rumbling forward for better positions – but failing to see any Marines.
A tie breaker roll is in order, and after some consultations with the rules, we find out that the rebel Guard has won a points victory – 325 vs 525; 200 points from the destroyed Land Speeder squadron alone! Oh woe!
If only I had got one more Leman Russ from the White Company (thus reducing it to half strength), or had the assault gone in my favour (another case where a single destroyed Russ would have made the difference)…a very, very close game, and extremely entertaining to boot.
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Brother-Captain Niem did not see the pillars of black smoke rising from burning tanks. Neither did he notice the
acrid smells of gunpowder, of ozone, and of burning plastic, rubber, and flesh. He only saw the all too familiar
sight, a sight he had seen so many times. Amidst their fallen foes, amidst the smoke of the battlefield, the Marines
were collecting their dead and administering to their wounded. They had repulsed the enemy, but the lines of dead and wounded were long. There was Lieutenant Coyl, his torso from waist down a burned, mangled mass it had became when a Vanquisher’s armour piercing round had turned his Land Raider’s commander position into a raging inferno. Brother Hagor, silent in death, dragged here by his comrades after even his formidable physiology had failed. Novices Gramm and Julius, scythed down by a heavy bolter when trying to reach the tanks. There was an armless, blackened and distorted body of novice whose name Captain could not remember, the one who had held a melta-charge against tank’s hull until it had detonated. Of Lieutenant Harren they had only found his boot soles, still smoking, fused to the hull of the Leman Russ he had destroyed in his final battle. Somehow the Captain had found that sight somewhat disturbing, even after all his years as a Space Marine and a World Eater. At the last count, his Company had lost thirty killed and forty-two seriously wounded. Two Land Raiders and a Rhino were wrecked yet perhaps salvageable, but of his five Land Speeders, biggest fragments found so far were half-molten pieces of metal the size of a child’s fist. And the battle for Fulda Gap had only begun. Even though the lightly-armed World Eaters suffered horrendous casualties in the initial engagements, they were able to slow down the advancing rebel army, giving time for other loyalist forces to mobilize. After a major, three-day running battle with the rebels on the approaches to the Brome Haven, the World Eater training garrisons were reduced to about 50% strength, and losses in heavy equipment were even higher. The lines, albeit stretched to a limit by the rebel offensive and with virtually no reserves to spare, did however hold the tide. Reinforced by hastily assembled units of the Adeptus Arbites, the Adeptus Ministorum and local militia, the Marines were able to hold the Brome Haven spaceport until the arrival of off-world reinforcements three weeks later, although the manufacturing centre of Sax did fall into enemy’s hands and was gutted with high-yield plasma devices to deny its facilities from the rebels. With the arrival of the reinforcement fleet led by World Eater frigate Eisenstein, the Marines took to the offensive. Instead of attacking the enemy main forces, and under cover of relentless orbital bombardment, three companies of World Eater assault troops conducted a spaceborne assault to the Lord Commandant’s Palace in the rebel capital of Krov. In a ruthless battle, the World Eaters seized the remnants of the Palace and set out to slaughter anyone found inside the Palace grounds. After General Buhallin, his family and his aides had been captured and beheaded for their treachery, dropships were dispatched to lift the assault force to safety. As a reminder of the Emperor’s displeasure, frigate Eisenstein covered the departing Marine dropships with a two-hour barrage of Hellstorm missiles, wiping out large numbers of the rebel forces and most population centres on the eastern half of the continent. Leaderless and demoralized, facing the wrath of the World Eaters, majority of the surviving rebel troops surrendered within one week. |
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Well, what can I say? Except that Leman Russes are TOUGH, and the tank army IS forgiving to many mistakes, whereas my limited Marine force could ill afford any. My basic strategy was sound - I think – but where I failed was the implementation. I almost played my enemy’s game by firefighting with the Russ Company, not a wise move at all although the Marine’s doggedness (not to mention their numbers) very nearly carried the day. For one thing, I would have needed bikes, or assault marines, or preferably both – tactical marines are great non-specialists and few troops are their match in close combat, but against tank companies more mobile forces are needed. (In retrospect, I may have made the gravest blunder when I disembarked my Marines to fire at the tanks on the turn before the assault – had they remained in their Rhinos, many more would have gotten into base contact and the assault would have had completely different results. I think I was unnecessarily afraid of them getting hit while embarked!)
Mobility, mobility, mobility is the key!
Another case in point calling for even more mobile forces are the war engines. In this game I deliberately avoided them; had I had any Assault Marines, however, I think they would have been my prime target. And in other kinds of terrain with less cover and better firing positions for the superheavies, those three Shadowswords might have been a real headache to engage with tactical marines only.
The game was smooth-running, intuitive, easy to learn, fast, had the “feel” right and was great fun – and in the process, I managed to get one Epic: Armageddon convert – the following morning, my opponent went to the store and bought one of the old Epic 40,000 boxes to get started on an Ork army...
Date: 24/12/2003
(c) 2003 Janne Korhonen