'Is this where the most fighting will take place?' Angron asked as he looked at the Topographical representation of B'tunn and it's surrounding areas. Khärn looked at his twitching Primarch and fought down his anger at such a simple question. He knew it was the introduction of the Butchers nails into his skull which had given him and his Legion such a short temper and the need to do harm drove them from warzone to warzone ever quicker. The practice cages were a welcome distraction where he and his brothers could release their anger and rage with the others of his Legion, but ever more the Gladiatorial arenas beckoned the older Warhounds. He re-focused his mind realising it had once again become distracted.
'Yes sire,' he spoke from beneath his Serum pattern faceplate, 'The Greenskins have fortified the captured city of B'tunn crudely but effectively. We are also expecting a lot of scout sized war engines along many routes into and around the city.' He heard clacking from above him and looked up into the scarred face of his Primarch, who was mashing his steel and ivory teeth together in what appeared to be an approximation of happiness and expectation.
'How big are these. . . engines?' He said as he stepped back away from the Holo-table and looked to the gantries about the great hall.
Khärn turned his eyes to the senior Captains gathered around, all of their postures showed a measure of disdain for the Lord of their Legion. Addon Krox who always went helmet less, if the situation allowed it, curled his lip in disdain at the comment and shook his head.
Khärn turned and walked around the war council to Angron. 'They make them in the image of their gods, supremely strong and cunning beings known as Gork and Mork as intelligence informs us,' Angron shook a hand at Khärn dismissing the reasoning and information being disposed and wanting more details about their capabilities, it was a gesture Khärn was getting all too use to seeing to his displeasure. 'Stompers - as they call them - are about ten to fifteen metres tall, almost as tall as the Warhound Titans you saw at Ghaptann.' Khärn received a flicker of annoyance at making his Primarch remember a war zone in the recent past.
'How tall in relation to that wall?' Angron asked pointing one massive chainaxe at the far wall. Khärn shot a glance over his shoulder incredulously for a moment to his fellow Captains, before moving closer and indicating to a beam.
'As tall as the third beam and as wide as a Phobos is long,' he said to him and dropped his hand.
'Ahhhh, a big engine then,' Angron replied readying his axes and stepping forward, 'Come to Angron; Lord of the Emperor's mighty World Eaters,' it came out derogatory and disdainful of his honorific and Legion, he dropped into a stance and swung his axes in brutal cutting arcs and chopping motions, so quick his movements were a blur.
Khärn watched as Angron finished his movements and buried Gorechild into the deck at his feet in a roar of biting and grinding teeth.
'Yes,' Angron answered his own question, 'I will enjoy this.' Angron wrenched his Chainaxe out of the thick steel decking and strode from the room, 'get me to as near as many of these Stompers as possible Khärn, apart from that; plan the war as you want.' The group watched Angron leave then turned back to each other.
'Leave it,' Khärn spoke first cutting off a fresh torrent of criticism of their Primarch, 'We can now plan this war with no distractions.' And with that a fate of a world was put into motion.
Hello everyone, and welcome to our first Karrus Campaign battle set on Karskug. This is a Prologue Campaign before Karrus really kicks off. So tune in and enjoy each week :)
Mission: Forlorn Hope (Planet strike) - Khärn has the Banner and must plant on a bastion to win the game, otherwise it is victory points.