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Howls of Damnation 9/X

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Mortem took a step back from his opponent, the blood rage reaching its peak. Chuckling at his opponents, he grabbed a chainaxe from one of his fallen Berzerkers. “Be thankful for his help, whelp,” he growled, before leaping back into the battle, the twin axes striking at his opponents. The axes carved through air, each colliding with one opponent’s weapon. “Because you! Will! Both! Fall!” he yelled, each word followed by another strike at his opponents.
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The Interitas Rex roared in defiance at the loyalist attackers, as it unleashed the full power of its butcher cannon on the attackers, the shells tearing astartes from their bikes. However, the damage dealt to it from the previous melta-blasts were slowing the daemon engine, the encaged warp-beast inside weakening. The assault was taking its toll, and not even a daemon could survive against it, even with the layers of armour the Decimator was encased in.

The Scions of Nurgle weren’t made for close combat, but the unholy gifts of Grandfather Nurgle kept them fighting where even other Astartes would fall. Morbus himself suffered greatly; a dead wolf had its jaws locked around onto his pistol arm, forcing him to fend off others with his axe and mechatendrils. The roar of the angered spawn drew the attention of his attackers away for a second, as the beast charged. When it had passed, he noticed that it had torn all but the head from the corpse latched to his arms. Using this to his advantage, he called upon the powers of the Warp to curse the attack bike, the dark energy causing the multi-melta’s machine spirit to temporarily rebel against its masters.
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As the Noise Marines kept up their assault on the dreadnought, with some turning away to deal with the Sternguard above them, Turillian leapt from cover, breaking for the closest Sternguard while the war machine’s back was turned. The Crozius in his hand, long corrupted from his service to the Dark Gods, crushed a marine’s hand, before swinging back around to turn his skull into a bloody pulp. Another was struck in the back, the force of the weapon sending him sprawling from his perch, into the dreadnought’s flames. The drugs in his system pushing him forward, he cackled with insane glee, diving past the other two to engage the sergeant.
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Incarnatus felt the shots collide with his armour, the mass-reactive rounds failing to do any permanent damage. Looking up, he saw the Chaplain retreating from the battle, his leg hanging limp. “Coward,” he muttered, turning to his brothers. The Chosen were fighting hard, but suffering immensely under the combined force of Astartes and Sororitas. Joining the fray, his blade leapt out, striking at any who came close. “How many have we lost?” he asked the champion. “I sent Squad Odium to assist Lord Turillian, my lord. Of my own squad, half our number lies dead at their hands,” the champion replied, his lightning claw burying itself in a Battle Sister’s stomach as his plasma pistol ended the life of a loyalist defender. “Retreat into the chapel!” Incarnatus called above the roar of the battle. “We’ll make our stand there.”
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Veneficus turned to the Alpha Legionnaire. “You face the wolves. Leave this whelp to me.” Before his rival could argue, he released the psychic gifts granted to him by Tzeentch, unleashing an inferno of Warpfire amongst the smaller wolves. Alpharius threw his bolter to the ground, before ripping off the gauntlet, revealing to the Wolf Lord his mutation. “Lord Bhelm. I’ve heard tales of you,” he said, the tentacle that replaced his arm wrapping itself around a wolf’s throat, crushing its windpipe. Letting out a feral roar, the possessed marine’s body changed. He charged, taking the fight to the Wolf Lord’s larger pets.

Veneficus, meanwhile, had focused all his attention on the rival psyker. A blast of lightning left the tip of the librarian’s staff, but was blocked by a beam of dark energy, the collision of arcane energy causing a small blast. His force sword in hand, Veneficus propelled himself forward, the dark powers of the Warp causing him to move at speeds considered impossible even to a Space Marine. Blade met with staff in a burst of sparks and Warp energy, as the sorcerer and librarian collided.
The battle is back on! The Angels of Damnation are weakening, but have come closer to their prize. Meanwhile, the Dire Wolves are holding the line, despite everything the armies of Chaos have unleashed. Win or lose, this battle is drawing to a close.

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TheAsorlinsStrike's avatar
Hmmmmmmm. What to do? What to do?