Battle 2: Dawn Raid (tweaked with night fighting whole game unless turn 2 rolls a 6, turn 3 a 5+ etc)
Targel Vypus - Dark Eldar: Combat drugs; Serpantin + 1WS, Warlord Trait: Master of Manouver.
JD - Imperial Army: Warlord Trait: The Dust of a Thousand Worlds.
The Dark Eldar once again try to gain access to Tagatha's capital Furalga City. The Tagathan 57th Light Regiment 3rd Company meet the Xenos head on in the dead of night at the old city extents. Will they be able to keep them out tonight?
Captain Purrot hears screaming. He wakes as darkness re-asserts itself over the besieged city. His besieged city. Furalga.
He looks down. A brass spike as long as his forearm is piercing his collarbone. The pain is agonising. He hears screeching from behind him, and recognises it as laughter. Moments later a lithe figure cartwheels over head dragging a sinister barbed chain, it tightens and brings the creature swinging round and to land punishingly on his gut. Blood spurts from his mouth over the Eldar creature. It, a she, looks into his eyes enjoying the suffering it is reaping upon it's victim. She paddles her feet twice more up and down on his stomach, long spiked toe rings pierce his skin, like a Ho-Cat trying to get comftable on its owners' lap.
The pink haired Eldar wraps the barbed chain around the Captains mid section before leaping to the next impaled human along.
"Captain Purrot," comes a wicked voice from below him. He looks down to see the Xenos that had best him in combat. The Black armoured creature walked towards him, his form flickered and his image was split into several all as real as the first. Several jump up and walk along the gun mount of the Xenos vehicle he is impaled on. He did not know which to curse or spit his bloody spittle at. "Thank you for letting us in so easily to this little city," all the images echoed and spoke at the same time.
"Wha," the Captain started, "what do you want with me?"
"What do I want with you?" The spectres asked flatly, "such crude and stupid thinking for such an ignorant race," he said shaking his head. They converged on him closer still, like a district gang trying to bully a lone civilian.
"Nothing Captain," the figure said, "I just want you to live through the death of your city from the best vantage point. I need no access codes to your All-Summer shelters as they would have been changed by now, I do not need you to tell me your force disposition as that is all known." The images disappeared leaving just one figure sitting at the tip of one of the dual cannons attached to the skimmer.
"I am Archon Vypus," he announced himself, "and these are the Disciples of Khaine," he got up and walked with finesse along the bobbing craft's prow and he raise an armour clad boot the colour of black trimmed with red and gently pushed the Captain's head to the side. The sound of an incredibly sharp blade being pulled from it's scabbard filled the din. Several audible sweeps were made and the foot was removed. The Captain felt nothing for long moments and looked around groggily, then blood began to dribble from his cheek.
"What did you do?" He mumbled and felt the cuts open proper on his cheek.
"I just spared your life Captain," Vypus said, making himself sound a little hurt from the Mon'keigh not understanding, "That sigil on your cheek will stop my children from killing you, your kind though however, they do not value the branding of my race."
"Why?" captain Purrot asked the Archon as he sheathed his wicked falchion.
"Because you have been so kind to allow me into your city, I will allow you into mine," he said with a warm smile "Commoragh is so very serene this time of year."