Considered by its crew to be the most glorious of gifts from The Plague Father himself, the malady ridden battleship drifted through the warp at the head of a fleet of poisonous destruction. Surround by bloated warp-spawned flies and a murky fog of pure pestilence and disease it sails silently towards is prey. At the heart of the ship's command bridge Lord Typhus sits motionless in his throne.
“There.” He says decisively. His voice emanating from his throat and through the bridge’s vox units.
He highlights a planet on the bridge’s colossal view screen and enlarges the grainy image. With a thought he pulls the planet's record from the ship’s cogitator engine and a holographic representation of the Agri world blinks to life above the bridge’s command table and begins to slowly rotate.
“That shall be the next stop on our voyage. A ripe fruit of the Imperium, ready for the spoiling.”
Murmurs of forced agreement and approval sound from the Lords gathered around the table. Their lack of approval at their Liege’s latest crusade was hard to conceal. Already he has led them into an ambush on a Deathworld plagued with the necrons, and for what? revenge? Such folly.
A half daemonic half mechanically synthetic voice interrupts their contemplations.
“My Lord, Imperial star ships detected in low orbit above the target planet, a small fleet of unknown designation.”
Although fused to his ancient suit of Cataphractii armour, the notion of a vile and sinister grin crosses his face.
“I know.” His reply was loaded with conviction.
“Set course for the planet. We must remain undetected by their long range scanners and their short range detection arrays. Use the system’s planets to mask our approach, and take your time, I want no mistakes.”
“Affirmative, my Lord.” The creature that was once an imperial helmsman and now a bloated living instrument of the Terminus Est’ disgustingly virulent bridge, answers in a low snarl. “Bring us into synchronised orbital rotation on the opposite side of the planet; they must not know we are there until it is too late.
“Confirmed, Lord Typhus. It shall be done,”
“Inform the rest of the fleet of my intentions; order them to remain in the warp until I have need of them.”
A slimy part organic cogitator unit acknowledges his request.
The groping tentacles of his throne release their grip and Typhus severs his psychic link to the voidship’s core systems and sensors. He rises to stand, and the bulk of his armour swells as if preparing to burst. Gruesome little lords hop down from the top of his great seat and emerge from behind its writhing form to join him as he strides down the stairs to the bridge’s deck. Scrapping with one another they giggle and bicker in quiet curdled voices, squabbling to be the closest to their god’s greatest harbinger. Typhus kicks them aside as they get under his feet, immediately they slow their pace and bow candidly making unintelligible but clearly apologetic sounds. Their restraint is short lived as they squabble and shove each other anew like tiny green quarrelling infant siblings.
Typhus approaches his assembled cohort of Lords and Sorcerers.
“An old enemy awaits us my friends; let us deliver Inquisitor Xerexes the gift of contagion once again.”
Smiles and nods pass between those assembled.
“I have no intention of lingering in this system however. There is no tactical advantage for us to remain here. We shall plant the seed of our corruption and destroy this life line to the imperium, Most importantly I want Xerexes’ head.”
“Epox, Myphilisis, prepare my forces. We’ll make planetfall in 3 days.”
The two Lords bow and move to make their exit from the bridge.
“As you wish. My lord!”
“The rest of you make all necessary preparations. I mean to spoil this world as quickly as possible. You are dismissed!”
With the Daemon Ship finally coasting in low orbit as far from the enemy fleet as its crew could manage, corroded dropships spill from its oozing cargo holds to transport the legions abhorrent troops to the unsuspecting surface of the lush green planet below. Their great Lord Typhus already spreads disease and destruction throughout the crop harvester plants and factoriums, reanimating the dead with scythe and psychic will.
Lord Epox approaches Typhus and his gathered Terminator bodyguards.
“The last of our forces shall arrive shortly. Your ploy has been a success Lord Typhus. We have Xerexes on the run.”
“Good, thank you for the update. I want that dog alive if you will.”
“My Lords, enemy reinforcements are approaching from the north, we have word they are Imperial custodes.”
“Excellent Epox. Take your plasma guns up into that structure and await my signal, it seems Xerexes will not go down without a fight.”
The chaos lord nods and departs with a sadistic smile splitting his palid dead fleshed face.
Typhus turns on his heels and raises his great scythe above his head.
For my second crusade engagement I faced the forces of the imperium, namely the gold clad hulking forms of the Adeptus Custodes Typhus had finally found his quarry. I will be playing the remainder of my Crusade games against this opponent as we enjoy a narrative campaign and aim to finish off a feud that our armies have had for many years. We rolled Relic again for the mission but this time we represented the relic itself with an inquisitor model who had been wounded and was now cut off and awaiting the arrival of a rescue party.
I set up my newly formed Plague Maine unit on the left flank supported by the Foul Blightspawn - Bubonis the Fectulant and advanced them into the woods on my first turn in hopes of ambushing the enemy’s Caladius Grav-Tank and the Vaxilus Praetors walking alongside. On my right flank Typhus and his Blightlord terminators moved slowly to cut off the rapid advance of the three oncoming Dawneagle Jetbikes. My centre line was held by the Plague Marine squad that was so successful in its last mission supported by my Nurgle Chaos Lord, both units set themselves up in a ruined stone structure overlooking the centre of the battlefield and the objective. Slightly off to the left and remaining stationary on my deployment line my Helbrute sat waiting for any unsuspecting enemies to wander into its twin lascannons field of fire. On the Custodes first turn the Praetors nearest the grav-tank had spotted the Plague marines waiting in ambush in the thick forest and charged at them immediately, they were to keep them held in place for the remainder of the battle in a fierce melee that would see the plague marine squad whittled down to less than half its original ten man size with not a single loss to the imperials. Playing this back over in my head I should have definitely disengaged and fallen back, allowing the Foul Blightspawn to shoot at the unengaged Praetors with his Plague Sprayer. On the right flank the jet bikes hurtled over the woods to draw Typhus and the Terminators into close combat. Following a devastating exchange of combi and hurricane bolter fire the three jetbikes were reduced to two and the five terminators were reduced to three before charging at one another. Typhus slashed with his man reaper and brought down another of the ancient bikes and its rider in a glorious display of marshal skill. The chaos lord seeing all of this couldn't resist the urge to join in and decided to charge the final bike smashing it to pieces with his oversized powerfist. Meanwhile on the other side of the battlefield the Grav tank had monouvered itself into the centre of the board to cover the advance of a second team of Praetors and a shield captain as they hurried to secure the objective. The tank, bringing itself in full view of my helbrutes heavy weapons, sustained substantial crippling damage but the helbrute ultimately failed to destroy it, it was left to Bubonis the Fectulant who had outflanked the machine to wind up his plague sprayer and liquify the golden war engine in a fountain of virulent ooze.
Having the high ground the plague marine squad setup in the ruins took full advantage of their position and punished the Praetors who had secured the objective with mass bolter and plasma fire. Despite having a Chaos Lord nearby for the re-roll both my plasma gun Plague Marines rolled 1’s (twice) when overcharging and disappeared as their exploding weapons vapourised them.
Now that the Praetors and shield captain had been weakened by such intense shooting, both Typhus and the Blightlord Terminators plus the remaining Plague Marines charged forth from the ruins and murdered the Inquisitor’s only hope of rescue.
After Battle Report
This Mission was a huge success as I lost not one unit this time round The Chaos Lord Secured 6 experience points this game including 2 for the Reaper Agenda taking him up to the Rank of blooded a gaining the Weapon Enhancement battle honour High Calibre for his combi-bolter. The Foul Blightspawn also gained 2 additional experience points for the agenda priority target as he inflicted the final blow on the Custodes Grav tank.