Blood, Sand and Tank Treads

+especially him, he's denied a promotion 3 times because he fears the be won't be able to command a large force without failing+

+Well we'll soon see wont we?+

+yeah, figured I'd give you a heads up+

+well i'll be waitin here for him. thanks for the heads up+

*he hangs up, about ten minutes later Llywellyn enters the HQ*

thunderfoot is stood there, iho stick smoking in his mouth

*not much to really describe as his face is completely covered by goggles an opaque sand coloured veil and a small scarf like thing wrapped around his head*

+commander+

*He pulls the veil down and pushes his goggles up to reveal a slightly tanned face with minimal stubble*
"Field Marshall"
*salutes*

he salutes back
"Commander."

"When and where would you like for my men to be stationed?"

"well then, lets have a look shall we?"
*he goes over to the holo table. there are several other officers there, including a lord commissar*

*he follows, saluting the commissar when it appropriate*

he salutes back
"alright. so from what we can tell the orks are pretty tough on all fronts. so we need to create a weakness to exploit"

*watches*

"So this is the plan. first we need to create some false intel, get the orks thinking we're sending a large force here. when they re-locate more of their forces to counter this and to get in on the fight, they'll leave other areas weak. To re-enforce this false intel we will send a force to that location, but of small size and made of our faster more manouverable forces. Then we hit the points made weak by this re-location with our main force, both east and west of the bulk of the ork force where they'll have re-located. once we've broken through, the central force will fall back. when the greenskins give chase, the western and eastern forces close in from both sides, cut them off, and annihilate them from all sides."

"I'm going to assume that my forcewill be the bait"

"negative, you're with me in the east, I wanna see what you can do for myself. Sparks, you take 42nd recon, go down the middle. make sure they keep in line"

"Aye sir"

"Davis, peterson, you got the west. Once we got this area clear of greenskins we send in the armoured fist boys through the breach and head straight for the forge just north of it. Got a few Crassus filled with the local skitarii who are more than eager to get in the fight so lets not keep em waitin"

*silence*

"Allright boys get to yer men and let em know wat we're doin"

On the fringes of this star system, a sudden occurrence happenes, as a large vessel, of origin lost to not only to the imperium of man, but the entire universe as a whole, unreplicatable pieces of arcane technology set afloat in the inky depths of space..The vessel itself, is so disgusting, so repulsive, that any who make eye contact with it to long would start to feel immense pain from looking at the horrible thing that can only be

A Ark mechanicum

Collosal ships from beyond the dark age of technology, only a handful survive at this point in time, and with each passing millenium, that number is sure to dwindle..The ark mechanicums are often refered to as forge ships, colossal vessels which will drift through space until the end, equiped with every facility that would be expected on a forge world and more..And this one is under the command of a particular Archmagos veneratus...

The orbit around the world is embroiled in conflict, as imperial vessels do battle with a swarm of ork kroozas

*He walks out, pulling his headwear back over his face and making his way back to the regiment*

To his surprise he sees Thunderfoot following him

The Ferrum voluntas (Iron will) powers up all weapon batteries and gets into firing range, which vastly outclasses that of anything on the imperial or the ork side (Most likely)

"Sir"

"Something wrong?"

several larger orkish ships break from the fight to intercept
scans of the world below that ork held territory has heavy orbital defenses, preventing any kind of bombardment or orbital drop

"Not at all"

Ooc:*nukes planet*
See, wasn't so hard.
Jk 



Ic: a mysterious aquilla lands near to the imperial command place, landing on the most even ground it can find.

a lord commissar, several guardsmen and a few skitarii approach the aquila

"good"

"Word of warning, we're from a somewhat backwards world. Our technology has advanced but culturally we tend to either be calm or an absolute nutter"

"Culture isnt what worries me. Any world can produce good soldiers. I want to judge for myself" *he offers him an iho stick*

A peculiar looking warband exits, a preacher, dressed in a simple cream and scarlet robe, a large pistol hooked onto his worn leather belt, a assortment of holy equipment on his back and waist.
He is followed by a retinue of polished, armour clad crusaders, carrying beautifully crafted blades and heavy looking shields, covered in walls of holy icons and text.
A sister of battle is also with them, wearing a dull grey armour, white robes, and a elegant blade sheathed on her waist.
"Greetings, I can see you have a bit of a xeno problem" says the preacher, his face old and battle scarred, his hair wispy and grey, unkempt and wild.

*declines*
"This is why I'm warning you, they don't seem overly disciplined outside of the battlefield but once there in battle...they're practically a machine"


OOC: as the Aquila door opens a heavy layer of smoke leaves the ship, the smell of burning weed quickly fills the air

Ooc: only the most holy kush.

the Commissar gestures for the men to lower their weapons
"you could say that. Welcome"

"We were on our way here to restock on supplies, I wasn't expecting a ork infestation" he says with a grin, his crusaders lowering their swords slowly.
The sister gives off a aura of uneasiness, like she's watching everyone's movements, their expressions, and though her helm is rather neutral, people catching her gaze feel as though they are being judged.

he notes that the commissar wields both an arc maul and arc pistol
"Indeed. the field marshal is currently assessing our newest re-enforcements

thunderfoot: glad to hear it

The vessels superior firepower begins to take apart the work ships with ease

Hehehehehehehe

"Could you lead us to him, I imagine he would want a word"

He nods as he voxes the marshal for a minute
"He asked for me to ask you who you are exactly"

"I'm Abraham, preacher of the ecclesiarchy; here with Cannoness Isabel; leading a righteous crusade"

Grandpa bobby the redeemer

he nods as he says so over the vox
"he says he wont be long. If you want somewhere he's sure to come to, wait by his tank. its the modified conqueror over there"

On phone right now, expect many auto erections ofc

and now for something compleatly different
Tankboy: boss i fink da map was upzide down
Baddfrag: nonsens i nevea been wrong in ma darektons before (the map is upside down and almost unreadable)
Tankboy: but boss
Baddfrag: oi said i woz roight
Tankboy: yess boss
(they continue to go the wrong direction)

They walk over to the tank.