Only War – RPG/TRPG Session
Run by Will
Baine Bravith – Jason (jymmijamz)
Father Deimos – Chris (alcoholandaphorisms)
Hans ‘Loki’ Lokisson – Me
Odetta – Tanja
(Write-up by Chris)
The ambush is set. A half buried promethium canister, frag grenades strapped to it, lies in the middle of the tight gulley the Imperial Guard plan to use as a choke point. Father Deimos lies, flamer in hand on the vantage point above, ready to fill the area with burning oil. Baine, the ogyrn, stands by the exit point into the woods, hands grasping on loose trees, ready to throw them down, blocking the route out of the kill zone. Loki kneels, gretchin slug shooter in hand, in the midst of the kill zone, the bait for the ambush. The other secrete themselves amongst the undergrowth, las carbines in hand. Ready.
In the distance is the monolithic ruin that they are investigating, overrun by greenskin xenos. They need to get inside, and since heading in is suicide, they need to get the xenos out to them, where the lay of the land is in their favour. Jops looks over at Father Deimos and hisses “Are you sure this will work? Because I can’t see the orks falling for it”
“Really?” Deimos says with nerve threatening calm “and why is that?”
“Because the cunning of the enemy will be difficult to predict..” Jop’s words trail away as he sees Deimos glare “unless of course.. if it is the emperor’s will”
“The xenos’ lust for battle will lure them out. They have no idea we are here, no reason to delay. Have faith, this will work”
“Yes faith of course you bloody loony” Jop’s mutters to himself, then louder asks “Am I to help the ogryn make decision?”
“The ogryn mutant idiot should make no decisions at all. Tell it what to do with your pure human thought”
“Right” Jops says “So we should wait for the enemies to be in the trap. Until we can see the green of their eyes, or red of their eyes is it?”
“We need not to know the details of the enemies “Deimos says “Only that they burn”
“Of course, yes we wouldn’t want to know what is going on or anything would we?”
Missing the sarcasm Father Deimos nods in agreement “Yes, yes, you have good faith and it shall keep you alive!” In one last double check Father Deimos heads between each of the troops, double checking that they understand the plan, making Baine repeat it until he can get it right twice in a row. Everyone is ready to rain down fire.
Loki holds the shooter aloft, popping off two clean controlled shots, then a ragged bust of fire, as if starting to panic.
The camp goes silent instantly. Moments later strange xenos shouts come out, clearly orders despite the incomprehensible nature of the language. Loki pops off two more shots into the air for good luck then, holstering the weapon, he drags himself up the ridge, readying his flamer with a fire arc diagonally crossing Deimos’.
The noise within the camp is becoming more organised, more regimented. The sound of the larger greenskin working in unison to some unknown ends. Dozens of small greenskins, gretchin, come running out in loose formation. A pathetic mix of knives and small stub weapons in their hands. They run headlong towards the source of the gunfire, scuttering between cover as they close.
“I think they are trying to test our defences” Deimos says over the microbead. “Let them through, I think the Ogryn can handle these”
Baine smiles “Baine kill xenos. Baine kill many xenos” Deimos grins, the mutant has some use after all.
By the time Baine has completed its slow thoughts the greenskin are upon it, running through the kill zone. The squad keep their weapons tight and watch as the greenskins send a hail of inaccurate fire towards the towering Ogryn.
Stepping away from the weakened trees Baine walks with unhurried pace towards the gretchin, unslinging the ripper gun and opening fire. Step by step he advances, a hail of fire slamming into three of the tiny greenskin, breaking, mashing and otherwise terminating their existence. The survivors slow, spreading out, trepidation showing but still they come on, their hands shake too much to aim accurately and does more harm to the foliage than the ogryn. Hidden in the bushes around, the rest of the squad keep their heads down lest stray fire take them off. One brave greenskin charges leaping and plunges a dagger down, bouncing harmlessly off Baine’s chest and landing heavily on the ground. Drawing the giant ork axe from his back, Baine brings it round, cleaving the plucky Gretchin in twain across the waist. Two halves falling, pumping blood out into the grass
With that the creature’s bravery gives, with tossed frag grenades exploding behind them the greenskins turn and flee back to wards the base. His blood up Baine shifts his grip on his axe and prepares to follow and mow them down. His blood-lust is interrupted by Deimos over the micro bead. “Fall back to behind the combat ambush area. Ready the Ripper gun for firing.”
Baine shoves out his lower lip and skulks back to the designated area, kicking stones as he does so, sulking. Noise rises from the camp, the angry roaring of xenos, and the gibbering of the smaller greenskins. That second noise is violently cut short with a wet sound of impact. Heavy thudding follows, the sound of giant feet on hard ground. The footfall impacts can be felt even in the ambush area, getting closer and closer. Four massive greenskin, as large as any they have seen before, trudge out the gates, looking around with red eyes, scanning for the imperial monster they have just been told about. The eyes settle on Baine who stands out in the open, holding onto trees for some reason.
The orks lift bulky slugga pistols and choppers and throw themselves charging up the hill, the joy of battle rising in them.
“Hold” Deimos says over the micro bead “Hold. 3…2…1…NOW!”
The orks are barely steps into the gulley that the imperial guard have made their killing zone when Loki pulls down on the trigger of his flamer, bathing the area in flame. Two xenos scream in pain as the burning promethium sticks to their skin, a third staggers, coughing as the inhaled fumes ignite within its lungs. Cheerily Baine tosses the logs, but in his enthusiasm bounces them off the overhang where they end up lying on the ground far from where they should be barricading the xenos in.
Cursing, Deimos slams down the trigger on his flamer to join the melee, the waves of flame doing less to the orks than their effect on the hidden promethium canister. Frag grenades detonate and the pierced promethium canister ignites as its fuel spills outwards. Shrapnel and fire fill the area, lacerating and burning in equal measure.
Las carbine fire pours down from the remaining squad mates, trying to pin the xenos in the kill zone, but a single xenos, ignoring the burning flame, manages to push through charging straight at the Ogryn,
Baine brings down the axe in an overhead clubbing motion that the ork slides past with ease, leaving the axe to embed in the ground. Standing again, the ork bares a tusky smile and roars. Baine roars back in glee and the two grab each other, muscles straining as they struggle for the upper hand, ignoring the flames that ripple up the ork’s body in their fighting.
The remaining three orks scream and try to put out the flames that wash down upon them, unable to see past the pain. Finally one collapses to the ground, the smell of burned mushrooms rising from its still body.
Dropping the flamer, and letting it swing on its shoulder strap Loki readies his las carbine putting a burst out at the ork that is fighting with Baine. Their struggles make it hard to get a bead though and the shots hit the ground harmlessly.
Meanwhile, with the ambush going well, Deimos pears back through the rising smoke, trying to see if further forces are coming, or worse, outflanking them. Little can be seen through the smoke,just some movement around the nearest gate.
Down in the battleground Baine grabs the Orks axe as it swings by, pushing it past into the tree. Taking advantage of the opening the Ogryn swings his blade in response, carving a chunk from the ork for his troubles. Behind he can see one of the orks rising from those writhing on the floor, having managed to roll and put out the flame. A burst of fire from Loki distracts this new riser and keep it away from Baine, but does little to harm it. A second three round burst takes it through each kneecap and then through the chest, dropping it back down to the ground bleeding and near death.
Baine benefits little from the interruption, the ork upon him still fighting on despite its wounds and the flame that runs across three quarters of its body. Half blinded by smoke the Ogyrn pushes its guard too high and the orks chopper takes its vengeance, digging deep into Baine’s arm. The ork roars in triumph, but the moment taken to revel gives Baine the chance to throw the ork back, the sudden influx of fresh oxygen causing the fire to flare again, leaving the ork blinded and in pain. Taking the advantage Baine swings again bringing forth a stringy mess of intestines as it cleaves through the ork’s chest, slaying it. The single surviving ork rises once more, pushing through the pain of the fire. Through that pain it becomes aware of being alone, surrounded by enemies and finally turns to run. To live to fight another day. A giant axe buries in its back, the Ogryn on it before it could flee. The battle is won.
Out on the edges of the smoke Deimos hears the ork’s final scream and smiles. His chain blade runs ready as he waves it to clear the air. A single ork, bigger than the rest, adorned in teeth and tribal armour. His weapons bigger and his tusks longer than any other. The leader Deimos presumes. The giant beast is watching, trying to see if the battle is worth his attention for joining. At each scream and thud the giant ork shouts guttural what sounds like encouragement to his “Boyz”
Having seen enough Deimos walks back into the smoke to the other, past a pile of burning xenos corpses. “Very good indeed” He purrs, then drags his chain axe through its neck, severing the head. “The orks leader does not seem to comprehend the wrath of the emperor sent to cleans him. How about we head out to confront him with these plundered heads in our hands, so to show him what awaits him”
“Why don’t we just throw them?” Baine says
“Yes, yes, taunt him and lure him to us. Yes mutant, obviously murdering xenos is good for your brain cell. We shall do that!”
Baine grins widely and lifts the ork heads one by one and tosses them out of the smoke bouncing around the ork leader. A scream of rage, anger and humiliation rises moments later. Sounds of heavy movement around the gates, and the thudding of approaching feet.
He has taken the bait. Now it is time to end this.