My goodness...

I recently saw this over at 40k Origins and, as a Praetorian player, I simply had to post it up.

Well, this is my shortest blog post ever. Enjoy!

The Kentack VII Campaign - Rules

Following on from my last post, describing the background of my current Kentack VII campaign, today I'm going to be posting the campaign rules.

First off, here is the campaign map, with all the territories labelled:

(Click here for a larger map)

Rules

(It is important to note that these rules are designed for Eldar, IG and Black Templar armies. However, with a little tweaking it could be used for any army in the 40k universe).

Starting Locations

Eldar: St. Octia's Station

IG: Praetorian 5th HQ

Templars: Airfield Primus

1. To begin, have all players roll off to see who goes first, second, third etc. This order will remain throughout the campaign.

2. Moving off from their starting point, players may move into an adjacent territory to one they already own (unless location rules state otherwise).

3. To capture a territory occupied by another player, simply declare you are moving into it and then consult the location special rules to determine what sort of game is played. Game size (i.e. points limits) is agreed between players before the game begins. The winner of the resulting game wins the territory.

4. Blue lines donate space routes, which can be travelled by any army. Should a space route be used to invade a territory, then a planetstrike game should be played. Note there is a space route from St. Veyda's Dock & the Praetorian 5th HQ. Also note that, despite the fact that it is linked to the planet on the map, St. Veyda's Obrital station may only be attacked directly by adjoining space routes or St. Veyda's Dock.

5. Campaign play continues either until a predetermined date or until two of the three armies have captured their vital locations (see location special rules). The person with the most territory points is then declared the winner.

Location Special Rules

*note that unnamed territories with the symbol that looks like a cracker are Towns, and unnamed territories without a symbol are Plains.

The Plains

Being largely a bleak and inhospitable planet, Kentack had much to offer in the way large open spaces, be it for leisurely walks in the near-poisonous atmosphere, holiday travel or general carnage and mayhem. Only really to be used as a method to get to somewhere more important, control of the plans nonetheless proved vital in the war of 996.

When attacking a plain, roll a D6. On the roll of a 1 play a game of 40k, on a 2-6 play a game of Epic.

1pt

The Towns

Outside the Hives, settlements are rare - the expense of importing vital resources like water and foodstuffs often out weighed any possible gain. That said, some of the larger mining stations had small supporting settlements, that often became the focus of fighting in the area.

When attacking a town, roll a D6. On the roll of a 1-2 play a game of 40k, on a 3-6 play a game of Epic.

1pt

Airfield Primus

Site of the initial Templar landing on Kentack, the Airfield became the base of their operations for the duration of the war. The extensive airfields and runways allowed the Marines to deploy to any point on the planet, giving them the element of surprise that the Astartes so loved. However, Kentack’s fraught atmosphere, worsened by the increasing Warp tension, meant that any airborne travel was hazardous, and ships often crashed en-route, for no explicable reason.

Control of the Airfield allows a player to occupy any plain or town on the map, playing a Planetstrike mission to gain control of the area. However, if claiming a territory in this way, the player must roll a D6. A roll of 3-6 means the attack goes ahead as usual. A roll of a 1-2 means that a terrible accident has occurred, and no attack is made. The player may do nothing further in the campaign turn.

2pts

Ecclesiarchical Palace

Keen not to cause unrest amongst the population, nor to give any visible sign of their treachery, Quinn and the Followers left Kentack’s Ecclesiarchical Palace largely untouched throughout their reign (although the preists themesleves were slaughtered, naturally). Upon learning this, the Black Templars made it their primary mission to sucure the Palace and the artificts within, to potect them from any possible harm. They vowed that the bones of Saint Octia would not fall into the hands of any enemy.

When attacking the Palace roll a D6. On a 1-2 play a Cityfight game, 3-4 play a 40k game, 5-6 an Epic game. This is the Templars’ PRIMARY OBJECTIVE.

3pts (8pts for the Black Templars)

Hive Primus

Once the jewel in Kentack’s crown, Hive Primus used to be a relatively civilized place to live. As with any typical Imperial Hive, the glory and splendour of the Spire realms were contrasted with the dull and depressing drudgery of the middle and lower Hives, where life was a simple cycle of working to survive. Home to some 4.5 billion citizens, the Followers of the Farther were keen to keep this valuable bio-resource intact, and as such constructed huge defensive walls and bastions; as much to keep the people contained within as to keep any enemy out.

The result was a besieger’s nightmare of dense killzones and murderous streets.

Hive Primus can only be attacked once all three Hab P territories have been captured. The Grand Assault Mission is always played at this location.

7pts

Habitation Blocks P/a, P/b & P/c

Though often centrally planned, Hives normally sprawl out of their original confines as their populations grow, Hive Primus being no exception. Vast tracks of hab blocks and supporting infrastructure stretched for miles in every direction around the main Hive spire, and this was where most of Kentack’s citizens lived their pointless, unfulfilling lives. Although not designed with defence in mind, the very nature of condensed streets and alleyways made the Hab regions a nightmare to take and hold. This situation was not helped by the murderous hab gangs, who eked out a living, even as war raged around them.

Cityfight games are always played in the habs.

Hab Gangs: Any 1 rolled for difficult or dangerous terrain tests will result in the unit loosing D3 models to stealthy Hab gangs. Monstrous Creatures, Independent Characters or Vehicles are not affected.

2pts each

Hive Secondus

Although significantly smaller than Hive Primus, Hive Secondus proved to be incredibly important during the war for one primary reason. Fearing the retribution of the Emperor’s forces, Quinn and his entourage quietly relocated there, hoping to escape attention for as long as possible. Messages were covertly dispatched to the brain-washed Praetorian 5^th, who made the rescue of their beloved leader their highest priority.

Citfight games are always played in Hive Secondus. This is the Praetorian 5^th’s PRIMARY OBJECTIVE.

4pts (8pts for the Praetorian 5^th)

Habitation Blocks S/a & S/b

Being constructed in the late M36., Hive Secondus was significantly younger than the Primary Hive. As a result its hab blocks were somewhat better planned and often contained wide boulevards and wooded squares. It was therefore a surprise to many that, as war neared, the populous descended into even more violent gang warfare than that seen in the Habs of Primus, as mans basic instincts were revealed.

When attacking a hab, roll a D6, on a 1-2 play a 40K game, on a 3-6 play a Cityfight game. Hab Gangs rules apply.

2pts each

Hive Secondus Habitation Block S/c (The Tunnels)

Another, little known reason, for Quinns flight to Secondus was his knowledge that he could return to his capital quickly if he needed. He was aware of an incredibly long tunnel system that stretched from a secret opening in Hab Block S/c, right into the heart of Hive Primus’ Spire. Constructed by a mad Lord Governor, Rector the Wise, some three thousand years ago, its existence had long since fallen out of common knowledge. It was a useful card that Quinn intended to keep up his sleeve.

When attacking Hab S/c, roll a D6, on a 1-2 play a 40K game, on a 3-6 play a Cityfight game. The player who controls Hab S/c may launch an attack on Hive Primus, by passing the need to occupy it’s surrounding habs. However, due to the size of the tunnel, no vehicles or walkers may be used in the assault.

2pts

Kentack Fabrication Blocks

In addition to its mining operations, Kentack had a small manufacturing sector, which supplied industrial equipment to its own Hives and nearby systems. Sanctioned and co-run by the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Fab Blocks encompassed many miles of factories and workhouses, engaged in relentless construction. The faction that eventually gained control of this region was able to harness these resources to bolster their own forces.

Cityfight games are always played in the Fab Blocks. The player who controls the Fab Blocks is allowed a ‘free’ 50pts in any 40k game, or a ‘free’ 100pts in any Epic game.

4pts

Kentack VII Spaceport

Previously a busy harbour, filled with bulk haulers loading up on Kentack’s mineral exports, the increasing Warp Storms meant that the Spaceport played little part in the wars overall course. Still, it was one of a only a few reliable routes onto the orbital stations, and the powerful assets contained therein.

When attacking the Spaceport (expect from a space route) roll a D6. On a 1-2 play Cityfight, 3-4 play 40k, 5-6 play Epic.

4pts

Mining Post Xc-03

For the population of Kentack, Mining Post Xc-03 was much like any one of the several hundred mining posts that could be found dotted over the planet. It had been in place for several generations and workers had successfully drilled many miles below the surface, following a particularly strong adamantium vein. Little could they know that they were but scant meters from unearthing the immense Engine of Vual, before war came and drilling ceased. For the Eldar, locating this devise was an objective of all consuming importance

When attacking the Mining Post, a 40k game is always played. This the Eldar’s PRIMARY OBJECTIVE

2pts (8pts for the Eldar)

Praetorian 5^th HQ

Positioned far away from most areas of habitation (in order to create detachment between the Guard and the population) the HQ of the Praetorian 5^th was a fortress befitting any garrison force. Though far from any existing front line, the Praetorians had ensured they were well equipped, and boasted a full infantry regiment as well as supporting armour, even a number of Superheavy detachments. As soon Kentack was assaulted the Praetorian 5^th sallied forth from their palisades, ready to rid the world of the enemies of the Emperor. It was tragic that so many of them died whilst unwittingly furthering the cause of the Xenoform Quinn, and it is a sin that the 5^th seek to absolve, even to this day.

When attacking the HQ (expect from a space route) roll a D6. On a 1-2 the Grand Assault Mission is played, on a 3-6 a Cityfight game is played.

2pts

Space Routes

Any attack launched using a blue ‘Space Route’ results in a Planetstrike Mission being played.

St. Octia’s Station

Cited on the smaller of Kentack’s two moons, St. Octia’s station was home to the planets defensive weapon battery, designed to form the last line of defence against any hostile Space Fleet. It proved to be no match for Eldar ship technology however, whose vessels slipped past its defences unseen, and proceeded to capture the station without much fuss. Its guns were not wasted however, as the Eldar Guardian teams put the Mon-Keigh weapons to good use.

Possession of St. Octia’s Station allows the controlling player to launch a preliminary bombardment at the start of any 40k game, or a free Orbital Bombardment (with the stats bellow) in any Epic game.

Orbital Bombardment - 3BP - Macro Weapon

2pts

St. Veyda’s Dock

Similarly to the Spaceport, St. Veyda’s Dock was of little use given that most of the combatants already had their forces on the surface of Kentack. However its advanced communication arrays did allow army commanders greater accuracy in coordinating their forces on the ground, an asset that gave the upper hand in many battles.

When attacking St Veyda’s Dock (expect from a space route) a 40k game is always played. While controlling St Veyda’s Dock, a player may add or subtract 1 from any of their reserve rolls.

1pt

St. Veyda’s Orbital Station

Taking up the majority of Kentack’s largest moon, St Veyda’s Obrital Station was almost a city in its own right. Constantly looking onto the surface of the planet, the Station was mostly used as a launch pad for strikes onto the surface, though these faced similar difficulties to those lunched from Airfield Primus.

When attacking St Veyda’s Station (expect from a space route) an Epic game is always played. Control of the Station allows a player to occupy any plain or town on the map, playing a Planetstrike mission to gain control of the area. However, if claiming a territory in this way, the player must roll a D6. A roll of 3-6 means the attack goes ahead as usual. A roll of a 1-2 means that a terrible accident has occurred, and no attack is made. The player may do nothing further in the campaign turn

3pts

End of Location Rules

So there you have it guys! This is the first campaign that I have entirely written myself and I would love to hear any questions or comments you guys have, either to clarify or improve the rules.

Soon I'll be posting up how our first few turns went, and the adapted Cityfight/Cities of Death rules we are using for the Hive games. Until then, thanks for stopping by...

Kentack VII Campaign - Background

Recently I have undertaken to launch my gaming group onto a 40K and Epic Campaign, in order to give the games we have been playing a linked feel. We are already several games into it, and I have only just realised that I haven't mentioned on this blog! Heresy!

In this first post I'm uploading the Campaign story that I wrote up. Now, I warn you, it is rather convoluted! I was keen to make a story that could do several things:

A. Find a reasonable reason why my Praetorian Guard, Mullan's Black Templars and Ben's Eldar would be fighting each other.

B. Set the action in the Segmentum Tempestus. As the location for my beloved Preatoria, I have decided to set all my fluff in Tempestus (as can be seen in my Dark Angels Background).

These objectives have led to a rather interesting tale, involving all manner of evil and indeed Tyranids, an army that nobody is even playing!

Anyway, enough of my ramblings! I hope you all enjoy, Campaign rules are to come...

Kentack VII and her moons

Late in the year 996.M41, the previously peaceful world of Kentack VII was the site of a bitter struggle between three mighty forces. What began as a straightforward compliance action by the Black Templars Adeptus Astartes, was turned on its head by the sudden arrival of the Eldar of Cairas Mythar. The Xenos intervention signalled that the world of Kentack VII was of great strategic importance, and would ultimately be a place of death and suffering for all concerned...

The Kentack system was located in Segmentum Tempestus, around 9 months rimward warp travel of the Segmentum Capital at Bakka. Although consisting of 11 desolate planets, an early Imperial exploratory team singled out Kentack VII as suitable for human habitation, and the world had remained under imperial control for tens of thousands of years. Despite having no natural water deposits and a barren landscape, Kentack VII’s mineral wealth ensured the construction of a plethora of mining colonies and even a few scattered Hive Cities, whose hard pressed inhabitants refined the rocks harvested out on the plains.

By M41, generations of industrial activity had resulted in a thick smog that enveloped the planet, leaving it a dim and depressing place to exist, as well as hampering air travel to and from the surface. Continuing regardless, the mining operations became of such importance that a Space Dock was constructed on one of Kentack VII’s moons, along with orbital defences, and a permanent Imperial Guard presence was installed on the planet. Ultimately the planet paid its tithes to the God-Emperor and thus remained a largely uneventful little place. This was until Victor Quinn assumed the role of Planetary Governor.

As head of the wealthiest mining family, Victor Quinn assumed the role of Planetary Governor upon the death of the previous incumbent. For the first 20 years of his reign, life on the planet continued much as it had for thousands of years. However, at some point the ruling class of Kentack were gradually and quietly converted to a cult known as the Followers of the Farther. Initially portrayed as another branch of the Imperial Creed, the few Ecclesiarchical priests on the planet paid it little mind; until it was too late.

At the beginning of 995.M41 warp storms began to trouble much of Segmentum Tempestus, and the guiding light of the Astronomican waxed and waned. On Kentack, contact with the Imperium became intermittent and unreliable. As if foreseeing these events, Quinn and the Followers of the Farther initiated plans to break away from Imperial control and a successful covert campaign saw the agents of the Adptus Arbites and Adptus Administratum quietly removed and eliminated. However, to take total control Quinn still needed to ensure the loyalty of the population of Kentack and, perhaps more crucially, the Praetorian 5^th, who were the Imperial Guard regiment stationed on the planet at that time.

Taking to the public address system on the eve of New Year 996.M41, Quinn announced to the population that a great shadow was about to fall over the galaxy. Fabricating a false tale of an Imperium in ruins, Quinn convinced the people that the Followers of the Farther where the true incarnation of the Imperial Church and that the Emperor had in fact sent the current series of Warp Storms to protect Kentack from strife. Fantastically, the velvet tipped words of the governor were convincing enough to even persuade the Officers and Commissars of the Praetorian 5^th, who moved man Kentack’s defences. With the Planet under his complete control Quinn and the Followers began to work toward other, darker, ends.

However, unfortunately for Quinn, the cessation of exports from Kentack did not go unnoticed. Segmentum Command at Bakka learned of Quinn’s Heresy. Coincidentally a battle group of Black Templars were less than a months travel from Kentack, assembling to undertake a new crusade. Asked to re-establish the Pax Imperialis, the Templars took to their Strike Cruisers within days and entered the warp.

Upon arrival in the Kentack system, the Templars quickly launched an unforgiving assault on the planets main airfield, catching the Praetorian garrison completely off guard. Finding themselves under attack, the Praetorians resisted with maximum force, but the Marines quickly gained a foothold. In response Quinn quickly began to mobilise his forces, and war was afoot. However, even as the initial assault was happening, Alien forces were arriving, and would proceed to make the situation much, much more complicated.

Under the direction of Farseer Idranel, the Eldar of Cairas Mythar used the commotion of the Templar assault to gain a control of the small orbital station of Saint Octia’s dock. It was crucial to the Eldar that this planet be theirs as soon as possible, for they knew the true nature of the Followers of the Farther, and the horrors they were seeking to aid. They knew that the Great Devourer was coming.

Barely a year before, the Seer Council of Cairas Mythar had foreseen that imminent arrival of Hive Fleet Leviathan, which would tear into Segmentum Tempestus by the end of 997.M41. They had seen that the Followers in fact formed a small part of the vanguard of this invasion and that the ‘Farther’ to which they referred was no less that a Genestealer Patriarch, who had infiltrated Kentack generations ago. Indeed Quinn himself was descended from this hideous creature, and was a powerful Hybrid Magus in his own right. This was the reason that his words were able to overpower the minds of population of Kentack and the Commissars and Officers of the Praetorian 5^th. In a story repeated on several of the most isolated worlds in Tempestus, the Followers were to ensure that Kentack would fall to the Tyranid fleets without a shot being fired, gifting them crucial recourses with which to jump-start their invasion.

But the reason that the Eldar chose to intervene on Kentack was deeper still. They knew the planet by another name entirely, that of Chen’lack. Ancient beyond reckoning, Chen’lack was a bastion world of the old Eldar Empire, designed to guard the fringes of Eldar space from its enemies. To this end the planet had been heavily reconstructed by the bonesingers of old, and at its heart lay an Engine of Vual, one of immense power. Forgotten after the Eldar fall, and revealed to the Seers of Cairas Mythar, Idranel knew that if they could secure it then his forces could set a trap for at least some of the approaching Hive Fleet. Whether it would be enough to blunt the invasion or not, he could not discern, but he knew they had to try…

Colour Sergeant Williams slammed home another magazine and returned the lasgun to his shoulder, which was already bruised from an hour of rifle firing. The small garrison of Airfield Primus had done its best to hold on against the black clad monsters, but it was clear that their time was almost up. Hope had been lost the moment Lieutenant Wilkins’ fire-support team had been brutally ripped apart by bolter fire and chainswords. Without those Autocannons there wasn’t much the rest of the Praetorians could do against the ceramite armoured Black Templars.

With that thought Williams faltered, for the second time during the battle. Black Templars? But they were Astartes of the Emperor, why were they massacring loyal Imperial soldiers? He quickly remembered the words of the great Quinn, his revelation that the Imperium was tearing itself apart with civil war, but it suddenly just didn’t feel right. Why was this happening?

As he looked around him however his doubts quickly faded. As he saw 2^nd Platoon engage the enemy, saw Lewick’s Squad cut down by a single Astartes, saw Commissar Thorn fend off three Marines single-handed, he decided only loyal soldiers of the Emperor could die with such heroism. The enemy must be traitors. And, as he was decapitated by a Chainsowrd he never saw coming, Colour Sergeant Williams was convinced that what he was doing was right...

Aboard Horus' Battle Barge

So the astute amongst you may have noticed my last post promised two tales from WD 161, whilst only one appeared. Here is the second and, in my opinion, is the best. I hope sharing these has got you as excited about the Horus Heresy game as I am!

Aboard Horus' Battle Barge by Bill King

Even through the shields, impacts makes the Imperial Palace shake. With a screech of tortured stone an angel topples from its alcove high on the throne room wall and crashes to the marble floor a kilometre below. It shatters into a million pieces. Splinters of stone flash across the hall like shrapnel.

From his throne the Emperor watches his warriors mill around in confusion. This hall holds ten thousand men, seasoned veterans, and all now panicking. He knows they are more frightening by his silence than by the enemy. They look to him for leadership and he can give them none.

For the first time in his millennia-long life the Emperor knows despair. The magnitude of his defeat stuns him. The lunar bases have fallen. Most of the earth is under the Warmaster's heel. Rebel Titans, towering 30 feet high, surround the palace and are held at bay only by the desperate efforts of a few loyalists. It is only a matter of time before the palace's defences fail and the last bastions of resistance fall.

"Sire, what are your orders?" asks Rogal Dorn, massive dark-haired Primarch of the Imperial Fists. His golden armour has lost its lustre, is dented in a dozen places by bolter shells. The Emperor doesn't answer. He is lost within himself seeking answers to his own questions.

He has come at last to the dark place, the time of testing, the era hidden from his precognition vision and beyond which he cannot see. The moment he has always dreaded has arrived. Is my time over, he wonders? Is this where it all ends? Is this why I have reached the limits of my prophetic powers. Is this where I die?

He felt bewildered. Even now, the Traitor Warmaster's forces were battering at the gate, he finds it difficult to believe that he has been betrayed.

Horus was more than a trusted comrade, more like a favoured son. Of all the Primarchs the Emperor relied on him most. Not for a second had the Emperor doubted him, not even when word had come from the Savage Worlds that the Warmaster was gathering forces. He had deluded himself that Horus must have good reason to do so without consulting him. I should have been warned by the failure of my precognition, he thinks.

"Sire, what are your orders?" asks Kane, acting Fabricator-General of the Adeptus Mechanicus. He stares at the Emperor, a trick of light turning the glass slits of his brass mask into accusing eyes. Once more the Emperor does not reply. Kane's presence reminds him that not even the head of the Adeptus is to be trusted. His superior, the former Fabricator-General, has chosen to side with Horus.

On Mars civil war rages between factions of Tech-Priests. Ancient, forbidden weapons are being deployed. Viral plagues kill millions. Fusion bombs scar the earth.

So much will be lost. He thinks of the slow piecing together of the old science. The Librarium Technologicus is in flame now, ancient core data systems in meltdown. The time of re-building is over. The Great Crusade, as much a quest for lost knowledge as a war to reclaim the human worlds, is ended. The Warmaster's treachery has seen to that.

"Sire, what are your orders?" asks Sanguinius, angel winged Primarch of the Blood Angels. He gazes at the Emperor with blazing eyes, his face a mask of terrible beauty.

The Emperor knows they rely on him for guidance. They still believe in him. They think he can lead them from this trap. They are wrong.

Horus is the greatest general the galaxy has ever known. Who should know better than his creator? He is schooled by a century of warfare. There will be no way out, no loopholes, no flaws in the plan. The Warmaster would have to be mad to leave one.

The Emperor looks down on the faces of his followers, sees the trust written there, feels the weight of responsibility it brings. He knows that for their sake he must try, even if it is hopeless, He casts forth his clairvoyant sight, lets his mind drift beyond the ruined gardens of the palace, over fields where colossal Titans battle by the twisted light of the sculpted moon. He sees the whole war spread out beneath him, his pitifully outnumbered legions being mown down by the traitor hordes. He reaches up to the sky, where he senses the fleet of battle barges that rain orbital doom upon the tortured Earth. Amid those thousand glittering points he finds the Warmaster.

Hope flickers within him. The shields of Horus's ship are down. Briefly he wonders why. Is the traitor's confidence so overwhelming? Does he wish to witness the battle himself. Or is it a trap? The Emperor touches the ship and recoils from what he senses within. How could Horus have done that, made a pact with the ultimate abomination?

The Emperor comes to a decision. Trap or not, this is the only opportunity he will get. He has no option but to seize it; the position is so desperate. Even as his spirit returns to his body, the ominous thought strikes him that the Warmaster must know this.

"What are your orders, Sire?" Sanguinius asks again. The Emperor's eyes snap open. His voice is full of authority. "Prepare to teleport. We will take the battle to the enemy." The men smile confidently. They now have a purpose. While he inputs the teleport co-ordinates they move, without question, to obey.

A flash of light, a feeling of coldness. They have teleported into the Warmaster's ship. The Emperor takes an instant to re-orientate himself and realises that something has gone wrong. He stands in a vast, warped chamber with only a few Marines in attendance. The Terminators and Primarchs are not present. How is this possible he wonders. Could Horus have disrupted the teleportation beam? Is he so powerful?

Insane voices gibber madly inside his skull. There are figures trapped in the stone walls of the vast room. Hands reach out for him, grasp at him with rock-like strength. He shrugs them off easily. His comrades are not so lucky. Bolters chatter and flash as the Marines attempt to fight off their demonic assailants. A man screams as he is drawn into the dark and slimy walls. As he vanishes, ripples spread from his point of disappearance. The Emperor's sword lashes out, severing limbs, freeing trapped Marines. He summons his psychic energies. A nimbus flickers around his head as he unleashes his power. A tidal wave of destruction rips through the daemons, leaving his own men unscathed.

He scans about him, seeking the Primarchs but the walls of the Warmaster's Battle Barge are resistant to his mindsight. He gestures for the surviving Marines to follow him.

They wander through the ship distorted beyond all recognition by the warping power of Chaos. Great sphincter-doors distend from walls of flesh-like stone. Transparent veins bear rivers of blood along conduits in the floor. Carpets of mucous cover a road of tongues.

Winged and distorted things that might once have been human flit through the archways of bone and perch on ledges of rib. The Marines gasp in horror. He exerts himself to calm them, psychically soothing their fear of this dreadful place. All the while he scans the area looking for the spoor of Horus. He knows now the nature of the pact the Warmaster has made and the dreadful consequences of his victory.

They pass pits that gape like glistening gullets in the floor and echo the beats of a distant giant heart. They are showered by waterfalls of stinking yellowish liquid that cascades down cliffs of carved cartilage. Sometimes they hear weapons fire but when they arrive at the source they find nothing.

Mists of rainbow vapour drift across their field of vision, obscuring corridors of carnivorous stone. Clouds of insects swarm over their faceplates and choke the extractors of their airpipes. They switch over to internal oxygen supply.

They are ambushed by scuttling skull-faced things in the armour of Marines. They fight hoardes of mutated beasts. One by one they die. In the end the Emperor stands alone. Then and only then is he allowed to enter the presence of Horus.

The Warmaster bestrides the body of a broken angel. Behind him the tortured earth fills the viewport, a bauble for Horus to seize with one clawed hand. Corpses of massacred Marines lie everywhere.

Face glowing with internal bloodlight. Horus speaks. "Poor Sanguinius. I offered him a position of power in the new order. He could have sat at the right hand of a god. Alas he chose to align himself with the losing side."

The Emperor stands transfixed, trying to force frozen words from his tongue. In the end he can only whisper, "Why?" Mad laughter rings out. "Why? You ask me why? Have all those millennia taught you nothing? Weak fool, your timidity prevented you from binding the forces of Chaos. You shied away from the ultimate power. I have bound it to my will and will lead humanity into the new age. I, Horus, Master of Chaos."

The Emperor looks at his former friend and shakes his head. He sees the trap that has ensnared Horus. "No man can master Chaos," he says quietly. "You have deluded yourself. You are the servant, not the master."

A look of rage transfigures the Warmaster. He stretches out a hand and a bolt of force leaps forth. The Emperor screams as agony wracks his body. "Feel the true nature of my power then tell me I am deluded," roars Horus, in the voice of an angry god.

Beads of sweat stand out on the Emperor's forehead, he steels himself against the pain. "You are deluded," he says.

Once again Horus gestures and lances of pure poison sear through the Emperor's veins. "I let you come here, old friend, so that you could witness my triumph. Kneel before me and I will spare you. Acknowledged the new master of mankind."

Desperately the Emperor summons his power and lashes out. Lightning flickers between the combatants. The stench of ozone fills the air. The Emperor leaps forward, sword raised. Weapons clash as battle is joined on every level: physical, spiritual, psychic.

Bolts of force flicker as mortal gods clash, balancing the fate of the galaxy on every blow. Runesword and lightning claw ring against each other with a sound like thunder. Energies potent enough to level planets are unleashed.

A backhand buffet from Horus knocks the Emperor through a stone bulkhead. The counterstroke tears a supporting column out of the ceiling as the Warmaster ducks.

In the warp the Emperor hears the Chaos Powers howl as they feed their pawn more power. The Lord of Humanity stands alone against their massed might and knows that he is losing. Somehow he cannot bring his full force to bear on the Warmaster. Horus shows no such restraint.

A lightning claw cuts the Emperor's armour as if it were cloth, sheers through flesh and bone. The Emperor ripostes with a psychic stroke intended to disrupt the Warmaster's nervous system. Horus laughs as he deflects it.

His claws take the Emperor across the throat, opening windpipe and jugular. Another blow severs the tendons on his wrist, causing the sword to drop from nerveless fingers.

Insane laughter echoes round the chamber. Horus breaks several ribs with an almost playful punch. A surge of energy seers the Emperor's face, melting the flesh till it runs, bursting an eyeball, setting his hair alight. The Emperor stifles a whimper, wonders how he can be losing. Blackness threatens to engulf him.

Horus grasps his wrists, splintering bones. Blood pumps from the Emperor's throat. Horus lifts his foe above his head and brings him down across his knee, breaking his spine.

For a second the Emperor knows only darkness then a flare of agony brings him back to consciousness as Horus rips his arm from its socket. The Warmaster howls with bestial triumph.

Suddenly the battering stops. Through his good eye the Emperor sees a solitary Terminator has entered the room. The Marine charges towards the Warmaster, stormbolter blazing. Horus looks at him and laughs. For a moment he stands triumphant, allowing the Marine to see what he has done to his Emperor.

The Emperor knows what is going to happen next, sees the gloating triumph on Horus' face. There is no trace of his friend left there. There is only a daemon driven by insane destructive fury.

Horus turns his burning gaze on the Terminator and the Marine's flesh flakes away to reveal his skeleton, then even that is gone, reduced to dust.

The Emperor sees the trap that has been set for him. He has been restraining himself, trying not to hurt one who had been as a son to him. Now he sees that there is no trace of his trusted comrade left. He knows that he must stop this semblance of his former friend and avenge the fallen Terminator. He must strike one deadly blow. He will get no other chance.

He gathers every particle of his power, focuses it into a mighty bolt of pure force, more coherent than a laser, more destructive than an exploding sun. He aims it as Horus, a lance of power destined for the madman's heart. Horus senses the upsurge of energy and turns to face the Emperor, a look of horror on his face.

The Emperor lets fly. It strikes the Warmaster. Horus screams as destruction rains down on him, twisting and writhing in titanic agony. He strives frantically to counter the Emperor's deathblow but his struggles become more feeble as the lethal energies play over him.

Driven by all the force of his rage and pain and hatred the Emperor wills Horus's death. He senses the forces of Chaos retreat, disengaging themselves from their pawn. As they do so sanity returns to the Warmaster. The Emperor sees realisation of the atrocities he has committed flicker across Horus' face. Tears glisten there.

Horus is free but the Emperor knows he himself is dying and that the Powers of Chaos may once again possess the Warmaster and he will not be there to stop them. He cannot take that risk. Horus must die. Yet for a second, looking into his old friends face, he hesitates, unable to do the deed. Then he thinks of the slaughter that still goes on outside, may go on forever. Resolve hardens within him.

He forces all mercy and compassion from his mind, empties it of all knowledge of friendship and coimraderie and love. His eyes lock with Horus and see understanding there. Then with full cold knowledge of what he is doing the Emperor destroys the Warmaster.

Rogal Dorn enters the chamber. Horror fills him as he sees the mutilated form of the Emperor and the shrivelled husk inside the Warmaster's armour. He curses himself for taking so long to fight through the Chaotic hordes, He knows now why their attacks ceased and why the ship is reverting to normal.

He rushes to the Emperor's side, detecting the faint pulse of life. Perhaps there is yet hope. Perhaps the ruler of the Imperium may live.

Rogal Dorn will do his best to ensure it.

Image of Sanguinius holding the Ultimate Gate taken from Studio Colrouphobia & used without permission. No offence intended.

On the thirteenth day of Secundus, the barrage bombardment began...

As most of you will know, Fantasy Flight Games, the people behind the amazing 40k Role-play books, are releasing another 40k game in the new year, The Horus Heresy.

A card based board game depicting the final assault on Terra, it will feature all the forces of good an evil present, up to and including the Emperor and Horus themselves. Needless to say, after Space Hulk, I'm pretty damned excited about this game and will have to pick it up. I'm more than looking forward to playing the loyalist side, and throwing the traitorous scrum back into the warp.

A view of the game board. Not the most visually striking, but the story itself should make up for that...

However, the main reason for this post is a reaction to some of the promotional writing on the FF website, particularly this phrase: 'On the thirteenth day of Secundus, the barrage bombardment began...'.

It stuck in my craw because I knew I recognised it from somewhere. After an hour of searching I rediscovered two fantastic tales from way back in WD 161, that I want to share with you all. They both have got me absolutely jumping in anticipation for the Horus Heresy game, and I hope you enjoy them...

The Assault on Earth by Bill King

On the thirteenth day of Secundus, 30,014, the barrage bombardment began. From orbit the Warmaster's ships laid down unrelenting missiles and deadly energy beams. The aim was to cripple the defences around the Emperor's Palace and make possible a massive invasion of Earth. The lunar bases had already fallen and the defending fleets had been scattered. On Mars, as across the entire vast Imperium, bitter civil war raged.

On countless worlds blood-mad warriors clashed. Some had pledged loyalty to the Emperor. Others had sworn fealty to Warmaster Horus, and, through him, to the dark powers of Chaos. The Emperor's realm was in turmoil and some of the greatest battles in human history were being fought. On the hive-world of Thranx over a million warriors died in a single day on the killing fields of Perdagor. On the blazing deserts of Tallarn, at the Ka'an Salient, fifty thousand tanks clashed in the greatest armoured action of all time. During the spacedrop on Vanaheim three hive-cities were depopulated by rebel forces as a warning against resistance and still the defenders fought to the last man.

Like a cancer the Heresy infected the entire structure of the Imperium. Everywhere brave men gave up their lives to try and excise that cancer.

It was on Earth, at the very heart of humanity's realm, that the fate of the galaxy was to be decided. In those last days, the sky was black with dust clouds and the earth was split by gigantic fissures. Tectonic plates shifted under the stress of the bombardment. Mountain chains shivered and seas evaporated and became salty deserts. Rains of blood and ash dripped from the dark sky. Everywhere oracles muttered evil portents and men went mad with fear.

Hideously twisted ships full of the lost and the damned hung in orbit over the ravaged world. Shielded from the devastation by the cunningly wrought defences of the Adeptus Mechanicus a pitiful few stood ready to repel the invaders.

The embattled remnants of the Emperor's army were desperately trying to hold out until reinforcements arrived. The Emperor himself oversaw the defence of his fortress-palace, personally commanding the Adeptus Custodes, his elite guard. He was accompanied by Sanguinius, white-pinioned Primarch of the Blood Angels and his Chapter of Space Marines. In the palace grounds stood the stalwart Adeptus Arbites.

The palace was not the only bastion of resistance. There were others; each an awesome fortified city filled with dauntless soldiers. Beneath their Fortress Monastery, grim-visaged Rogal Dorn led the stern Imperial Fists in final prayers. Within the armoured factory complexes of the Adeptus Mechanicus, techpriests put aside their tools and girded on the fearsome weapons of their order. In the rubble of burned-out hab-areas Primarch Jhagatai Khan mustered the White Scars, the Chapter of Space Marines he had personally instructed in the art of lightning warfare. Three full Titan legions stood ready to defend their Emperor.

As the earth shuddered under the bombardment, tank divisions roared across the tortured landscape to take up their position against the coming invasion. Brave men checked their weapons and offered up last prayers. Defence lasers swivelled to face the turbulent threatening sky. Suddenly, the night was streaked by the plasma contrails of drop-pods. Within the Emperor's halls even the Space Marines shuddered knowing that they would soon confront their lost and damned brethren. The terrifying prospect of facing those corrupt Primarchs who had sold their souls to Chaos filled every man's mind with indescribable horror and dread.

The pods touched ground and from them erupted the mightiest champions of Chaos, the renegade Space Marines of the lost Chapters. These were no longer the fine human warriors of legend but twisted creatures, bodies warped by the energies of Chaos, minds twisted by their devotion to the dark powers. If what had happened to the Space Marines was bad then what had happened to their Primarchs was worse. They had been created higher in the Emperor's esteem and had fallen further. None of their former comrades would have recognised them - they had been transformed into creatures both daemonic and exultant.

Mighty Angron bellowed orders to his blood-drinking followers, the World Eaters. Brandishing his great runesword he led them against the defenders of Eternity Wall Space Port. Around his red-armoured followers bolter shots whined. Unflinchingly they advanced, determined to spill blood for the Blood God.

At Mortarion's soft-spoken command the Death Guard emerged silently from the festering cocoons of their drop-pods and advanced on their terror-stricken foes. The dread runes on Mortarion's scythe glittered eerily in the night as he gestured for them to advance.

Magnus the Red glared triumphantly about him with his one watchful eye before ordering the mage-warriors of the Thousand Sons to cast their spells of doom. A hail of deadly bolter shells cut down dozens of the Emperor's Children. Undeterred, the wounded howled with pleasure at the experience and chanted the praises of their Primarch Fulgrim. The Renegade Space Marines surged forward to carve a path through their foes.

Perhaps some defenders went mad with fear. Perhaps the corruption of Chaos ran deeper than anyone suspected. Perhaps some were foolish enough to think that they could negotiate with the ultimate enemy. Whatever the reason one last vile treachery was to take place. Many units of the Imperial army that had pledged loyalty to the Emperor turned blasphemer even as the Traitor Space Marines made their drop. It was almost as if it were a pre-arranged signal. In one of the basest acts of betrayal in humanity's history they turned their weapons on their brother warriors and cut them down like dogs. Thus did the Lions Gate Space Port fall to the rebels. As the heretics chanted and howled their mad prayers, the air shimmered and slavering daemons emerged from the warp to spread terror and dismay.

Then indeed did it seem to the defenders that they were living in the last days of mankind. Huge bat-winged Bloodthirsters swept triumphantly across the weeping skies. Clawed Keepers of Secrets danced lasciviously on piles of corpses. Great Unclean Ones chuckled as they lumbered through the ruined streets spreading trails of filth and slime and disease. Enigmatic Lords of Change perched atop the towers and statues and supervised the coming of Chaos to the heart of the world.

Mighty ships began the descent from orbit, hoping to overwhelm the defenders by sheer weight of numbers. Unlike the drop-pods these presented fine targets for weapons of the defenders. And thus did the battle lasers blasted many renegade ships from the sky, sending thousands of tons of fused metal death down onto the ground below. One giant craft span out of control and crashed into a hab-unit, killing a hundred thousand people. Another was welded to the ground, disgorging its passengers into a lake of bubbling tar and plas-crete. The vessel of the Warped Dogs was vaporised and that Titan Legion's name passed into history.

As quickly as they disembarked the Traitors surged forth from the space ports to besiege the bastions of the defenders. Their first objective was to silence the lasers inflicting such casualties on their comrades. The rebels were met by a wave of Imperial defenders, desperate men who knew that they were giving their lives for their home and their Emperor.

In the tightly packed streets around the space ports the fighting was close and deadly. Bolters chattered and missile launchers delivered cargoes of death from building to nearby building. Traitor tanks rumbled through the avenues, turrets swivelling to bring weapons to bear on the hastily improvised barricades of their former comrades.

Soon the defenders of Eternity Wall Space Port had been swept aside by the merciless assault and the hordes of the Warmaster were in total possession of the spacefield. More and more intricately wrought dropships descended from orbit. They towered over the landing ground like nightmare skyscrapers. The dark runes on their sides glowed evilly in the gloom. Hundred-metre high doors opened in their kilometre long sides. From their red depths Titans, ten times the height of a man, emerged. They were warped giants; the armour of their carapace fused and moulded into new shapes by the power of Chaos. Within them were men melded to their machines. Some of the hideous Titans had strange and potent weapons, others were a bizarre hybrid of the organic and the machine. Metal tentacles lashed, spiked tails whipped back and forth. Engines roared like the voices of angry beasts. Banners fluttering, the Titans of Storm Lords and the Flaming Skulls legions marched forth. At Lions Gate Space Port the traitors welcomed the towering black war engines of the Khornate host. Minotaurs and trolls and cultists seethed like angry ants around their bases.

Reinforced by this fresh wave of troops the hordes of Horus swept on, driving through the exhausted and demoralised Imperial troops to the very walls of the Emperor's palace. Khornate warriors mounted on bestial daemonic Juggers raced towards the marble and steel outer ring. Hordes of horn-headed Tzeentchian disc riders soared on the wind, bolts of mystic power erupting from their clenched fists to rake the defenders. Slaaneshi beast riders swept aside the Imperial Guard infantry and reached the Satumine Gate.

Round the walls bitter fighting ensued as the Imperials sallied forth, trying to drive the attackers back before the main body of the assaulting troops arrived. Men died in their thousands. From pillbox emplacements in the palace walls Imperial gun crews rained death down on the relentless attackers. Again and again the streets outside the palace were swept clear of heretics. Again and again new foes stepped forward to take their place.

Now indeed it seemed the tide of battle had turned against the Emperor. The space ports were firmly in the grasp of the minions of the Warmaster. Hundreds of thousands of troops poured down from orbit. Goat headed beastmen, gibbering mutants and hideous amorphous Chaos Spawn surged out of the dread ships. Under the banner of the great eye, the sign of Horus, the lackeys of the four Great Powers of Chaos marched united. Mounted on Rhinos, lurking within mighty Behemoths and clinging to the sides of gigantic war engines they made their way en masse to the Emperor's palace.

Looking down on the seething sea of foulness the defenders' hearts went cold. Mingling with the daemons and the mad-eyed cultists, the trolls and the beastmen they could see heretical Space Marines and traitor Guardsmen. These were people they might have once fought alongside, who had once been as loyal to the Emperor as themselves. They looked upon a dark mirror of their souls. Down there they could see martial honour become berserk madness, human cleverness become sly treachery, hope become foulness and love become abominable lust. The brave men on the walls knew that there was no way out. Here they must stand and fight and die. There would be no mercy from those below. This was a war where there could be no honourable peace. It was destroy or be destroyed.

For a moment all was silence, then Angron strode forth. In his brazen voice he demanded that the loyalists surrender. He told them that their cause was hopeless, that they faced a foe who could not be defeated. They were cut off, outnumbered, and defending a ruler too weak to be worthy of their loyalty. In that moment the men on the walls felt their resolve weaken. Looking at the transformed face of the Primarch who had been one of the Emperor's finest warriors, they saw an invincible, relentless foe backed by a numberless horde and all the daemonic might of Chaos.

There was a clamour on the walls as Sanguinius and the Blood Angels arrived. Standing on the wall, the angelwinged man glared on Angron with angry contempt. For long moments their gazes locked. Each Primarch seemed to be measuring the other, searching for chinks in the armour, for any sign of weakness and lack of resolve. Who knows what they saw there? Perhaps they communicated telepathically, brother Primarch to brother Primarch. The truth will never be known. Eventually Angron turned and walked back to his lines. He told his troops that there would be no surrender; they should kill everyone they found within the palace. No stone should be left upon turned.

With a roar the horde advanced towards the walls. Great Lords of Battle lurched forward on iron wheels, crushing anything in their way, unloading racks of missiles and turning the area on the top of the walls into blazing storms of death. Doom burners sent tongues of superheated metal licking out at the emplacements. Molten brass filtered through the windows and scalded those inside. Multi-tracked Cauldrons of Blood squirted jets of obscene daemonic ichor onto the defenders. Enormous fleshhounds of Khorne loped forward in their wake. Titans armed with specially constructed siege weapons lumbered into position. Battle cruisers dropped megatons of explosive death onto the defenders.

Every loyal warrior knew that he was already dead; that there was no way he could survive the coming of the daemonic army. The soldiers fought with the desperate ferocity of hopeless men, firing until their weapons were empty, snatching up the bolters of the fallen, and facing monsters with the butts of their guns when all ammunition was exhausted. Three times the horde managed to scale the walls, and three times it was driven off by the valiant efforts of Sanguinius and the Blood Angels. Wearily the Primarch marshalled the defenders, rallying the broken, speaking words of comfort to the mortally wounded, fighting with cold, implacable fury when he was called upon to do so. Slowly though, despite his efforts, the Chaos forces managed to erode the defence. They seemed numberless as the grains of sand on a sea shore and Horus spent their lives carelessly.

Outside the walls Imperial forces frantically raced from their bastions to try and relieve the palace. Titan legions boldly cut their way towards the centre of the rebel army. The Whitescars harried its flanks. No attempt to break the rebel line succeeded. Breaking through that blood-mad horde was a near impossible task. All four of the daemonic Primarchs inspired their followers to feats of Fiendish bravery. For every Chaos warrior who died it seemed two more stood ready to take his place.

In orbit the Warmaster watched approvingly. If the palace fell and the Emperor died loyalist legions across the galaxy would lose heart and the war would be over. Without the psychic shield of the Emperor's power, humanity would swiftly fall prey to Chaos. Horus would stand triumphant amid the rubble of humanity's greatest empire. He would become a new and angry god. If he did not win soon reinforcements would filter in from the corners of the Imperium, and his attack would falter. For the Warmaster this was the desperate ultimate gamble. Everything was staked on this attack. It had to succeed, and at that moment it looked as if it might.

Day by day the siege wore on, casualties rose from the thousands to tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands. Bodies had to be bulldozed from the access ways to the Saturnine Gate by war machines. Chaos Titans blazed at the walls, specially constructed missiles ripping great chunks from the masonry. The Titans of the Fire Wasps answered their fire with volcano cannons. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the corpses of the dead were incinerated in funeral pyres a hundred foot high. Obscene ash parched the throats of the defenders. The World Eaters built a pyramid of scorched skulls sixty foot high in Temple Square. By night the chants of degenerate cultists echoed through the streets and daemons flitted among the ruins of Earth.

Slowly, foot by torturous foot, the defenders were forced back. The great walls of the palace were riddled with hundreds of kilometres of bulkheads and corridor. Within this maze hand to hand fighting ensued till entire sections of passage were filled with bloated corpses. Feeling progress was too slow, Horus ordered Titans of the Death's Head Legion to demolish entire sections of the wall. Despite taking tremendous casualties the great Warlord Titans broke through, and the forces of the Warmaster flooded into the palace grounds.

While all this was taking place Jhagatai Khan had implemented a change of plan. Rather than throwing away his forces against the near invincible bulk of the main Chaos army he launched a lightning raid against Lions Gate Space Port. This night attack was spearheaded by the shaven-headed warriors of the Whitescars, who led the remnants of the 1st Tank Division and elements of the surviving Guard armies against the surprised heretics. Khan threw a defensive perimeter around the space port and held it against all counter-attacks. The flow of men and materials towards the palace was halved at a stroke.

This success gave heart to the defenders. They swiftly attempted to seize Eternity Wall Space Port but here the forces of the Warmaster were better prepared. The attackers were ambushed and driven back by traitors. Horus knew it was imperative to keep his beachhead secure. The final push on the inner palace had begun.

The battle raged across the grounds of the Inner Gardens. What had once been a vast parkland was swiftly turned into a killing ground. Men used statues for cover and monuments for bunkers. Blood swirled in the waters of the ornamental lakes. Groves of ancient redwoods burned. The smell of the burning mingled with the acrid odours of weapons and engines and death. Red-eyed, snatching sleep when they could, both sides fought a total war. Trenches were hurriedly excavated in the meadows. Snipers killed men as they tried to sip brackish water from the ruined fountains.

Both sides fought with unimaginable naked ferocity. Both sides sensed the end was near. Eventually Sanguinius was forced to retreat to within the palace itself, personally holding the Ultimate Gate against the oncoming horde while the last of his wounded men was carried through. Just as the giant ceramite gate was about to close a Bloodthirster of Khorne leapt upon him. The daemon's huge talons closed around his throat. Sanguinius took to the air. Angel and daemon wrestled over the warring armies. Both sides halted for a moment to watch the titanic struggle. It was a conflict such as has been rarely seen; two beings of awesome power wrestled.

Sanguinius was weary and near the end of his strength and the daemon gouged great wounds in his flesh. The heretical throng roared its approval as the Primarch was cast to the ground, the impact splintering the granite. For a moment the Primarch lay still and a groan rose from the Blood Angels, the daemon stood over him and howled in exultation. Then slowly and painfully the Blood Angel rose and seized the creature, raised it high and broke its back across his knee. Then with a halo of power playing round his head he tossed its broken carcass back amid its followers. They beat their chests and rent their hair and wailed in dismay as the Ultimate Gate shut.

The great Sky Fortress bore Rogal Dorn and the remnants of the Imperial Fists to the inner palace. The loyal old general was determined to stand and die with his Emperor in the final hour. The Sky Fortress raced away from the palace in a desperate attempt to reach Shagatai Khan and return him to the palace. It was destroyed by a blaze of fire from the Death's Heads Titan Legions. Even in death its commander wrought havoc on the enemy, bringing the crippled vehicle down into the centre of the Chaos Horde. It seemed as if a new sun was born on Earth as the plasma reactor exploded, blasting out a crater three kilometres across. Those within the palace knew they were cut off; now they were truly alone. Only a miracle could save them.

Now the final siege began. Through great breaches in the outer walls more and more armaments and reinforcements were brought to bear. The Warmaster himself prepared to teleport down to the surface and supervise the destruction of his former lord. Then a daemon from the Warp whispered to him the words that he had dreaded.

A loyalist fleet under Leman Russ and Lion'el Johnson bearing a fresh army of Space Wolves and Dark Angels was only hours away. It would take days to break humanity's last citadel, even with Horus leading his troops. It seemed that time had run out for the Warmaster, that his gamble had failed.

Horus was first among the fallen, with the power of a god and the cunning of a daemon. He resolved to try one final desperate gambit. He could still kill the Emperor. He ordered all comm-net communications blocked so that the defenders would get no word from their rescuers and then he used his psychic powers to the full to prevent the Emperor becoming aware of this. Finally he dropped the shields of his command ship. It was an invitation and a personal challenge that he knew the Emperor could not resist. He was being offered a chance finally to smite the foe who had harried him for so long.

The Emperor rose to the challenge, and he and his surviving Primarchs teleported aboard the Warmaster's battle barge. Horus used his powers to separate the Emperor from his loyal followers. The loyalists were transported to different spots within his hideously altered ship. Sanguinius he had brought directly to his throne room. In his evil cunning the Warmaster offered the Blood Angel a chance to switch sides, reasoning that the winged Primarch's followers would be useful when the Space Wolves and the Dark Angels arrived.

Sanguinius refused. Horus grew wrathful and attacked him. At the peak of his powers the Blood Angel would have been no match for the Warmaster and now, sorely wounded and weary he had no chance at all. Horus strangled him with his bare hands before the throne the Powers of Chaos had gifted him with.

The Emperor found Horus shortly after this and what happened next is the subject of legend. The two mightiest beings in the history of mankind clashed. They met blade to blade, power to power, mind to mind and tested sinew and psychic power to the ultimate.

Behind Horus was the massed power of the Chaos Gods. The Emperor stood alone and still he triumphed, although he was terribly wounded in the process.

The psychic shock wave of the Warmaster's passing rippled outward through the warp. On Earth, daemons screamed and vanished, and the rebel Primarchs stood dumbfounded. It was their leader, not their enemy's, who was dead and they knew it. With the one who had raised the banner of rebellion dead, there was nothing to hold the rebels together. They were demoralised and dismayed. When word of the oncoming Imperial fleet reached them they knew that they must flee.

Within the perimeter of Lions Gate Space Port. Jhagatai Khan and the handful of unwounded Whitescars watched in amazement as the horde halted in confusion then retreated. Angron, Fulgrim, Magnus the Red and Mortarion led their men to their ships and departed, leaving the deluded, traitorous followers of Chaos to their fate. As he stepped aboard his ship Angron turned and shook his fist at the glittering dome of the Imperial palace that had proved just out of his taloned reach. Then he shrugged; he and his fellow rebels had all eternity to seek revenge. The Battle for Earth was effectively over. The Horus Heresy was ended.

Rogal Dorn found the Emperor's broken body in the ruins of the Warmaster's throne room. Through mangled lips the Emperor whispered instructions for the creation of his golden throne. Dorn smiled, for while the Emperor still lived there was still hope. The old general returned to Earth. There was much to be done.

Dark Angels Army 'Fluff' - The 1st Capture Group

I love the 40k background. It's the stories and novels that keeps me interested in this hobby. 

As an example, when I went to college I turned my back on the game itself and sold the vast majority of my models. However, I never even considered selling my novels, White Dwarfs or codices, indeed I continued to buy more. Unsurprisingly it was the fluff that eventually got me back into the game. 

So, presented below is some my fluff for my Dark Angels. 

It was also an excuse to mess around with photoshop...

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Click on the photo for a full size version 

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I'll let the fluff largely talk for itself, but below is some of my thought process. 

I wanted to link my DA in with my Praetorian Guard which, given that Praetoria is in Segmentum Tempestus, placed them directly in the path of Hive Fleet Leviathan. However, I also wanted my Dark Angels to keep to their main purpose, hunting the shadowy forces of Chaos. So I followed the old GW trick, and used a confused (Inquisition) outsider to describe my army as a sinister and suspicious force. The '1st Capture Force' is nowhere near the Eye of Terror or the Maelstrom (where you might assume the DA to be) and the Inquisition wants to work out why. 

So who are they hunting? Are they going to undermine efforts against the Hive Fleet? Does there presence signal a previously unknown Chaos presences in Segmentum Tempestus?

Well, don't you just love a bit of GW style intrique!

It's also convenient because my main enemies at home play Chaos and Tyranids, giving me a fluffy excuse to fight both of them!

I would love to hear anybodies comments on what I have come up with. Some of this is far from cannon (the 'Capture Groups' are entirely my own invention), so I would love to know if people think it does 'fit' within the wider 40k story.

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I used a lot of images found on the Internet to make this picture. I would like to stress that all are used in good faith, and should any of the owners object, they will be taken down immediately. Please contact me by commenting on this post. I hope to improve the background of the 40K universe, I'm not trying to offend any other hobbyist out there. Many thanks.