Bab 69: Chapter Twenty-Four: The Last Hold (Part IX)
Location: The Elder Bridge of Khazrik Hold
Date: 889.M30 (Imperial Standard Time)
At her master's bidding Ayida the Stellar Drake snaked her way through the ashen skies of Karag Grungron. Great reptilian eyes scanned the assembled Orkish WAAAGH, looking for the best place to strike. Accelerating through a mix of gravitational manipulation and organic rocketry she charged. Entering a shallow dive to strafe the center of the tide of green monsters, the atmospheric displacement sent squalls of burnt wind across the Orks' ranks. Jaws large enough to swallow a Titan widened and a rumbling roar poured from between Ayida's fangs. The air from her gullet pushed out a tide of fire. The great biological reactor within the Dragon did more than produce flames for flight. It could unleash dragonfire.
A geyser of molten death erupted from the Stellar Dragon. With an almost lazy ease, the dragon burnt a line into the WAAAGH. Waves of flame rolled off from points of impact, swallowing Trukks, Wagonz and swarms of greenskins like some apocalyptic flood of ancient Terran myth. Energy equal to multiple thermonuclear detonations smashed into the Orks, and soon the screaming started and it nearly matched the roar of the flames. Orks fear little, but the cleansing wrath of fire brought forth the instinctual terror of their fungal roots.
Storms of dakka poured from the Orks, filling the air with lead and plasma as the greenskins panicked. Primarch-forged shields and Old One born scales proved more than a match for the Orks' wild shooting. Grunhag left the disemboweled form of Ur-Dammaz, mounting his squiggoth beast and screaming orders and charged into the Greentide. Any effect the Warboss might have had was lost when the next wave of the Imperial offensive came. The Stellar Dragon had managed to slip through the Orkish fleet, inciting panic wherever her flames or claws met greenskin ships. She was far from alone in this fight. The XVIII Crusader Fleet and the Dragonforged Legion now clashed in the Karag system.
The Orkish Fleet was massive beyond words. Thousands upon thousands of ships dotted the firmament. Easily outnumbering the Crusader Fleet 50:1. Yet the Orks were scattered across the system. With the vast majority of the WAAAGH upon Karag Grungron. If the Orks could have regrouped and attacked the Crusader Fleet as one they could have easily overwhelmed the Imperials. This would not be the case. The Greenskin ships scattered across the system were composed of late-comers to the WAAAGH and those Grunhag deemed unworthy to besiege Khazrik Hold.
Ayida easily weaved her way through the disparate Greenskin fleet, allowing the Dragonforged to smash each of the scatterings of Orkish vessels with ease. Weapons plucked from the dreams of the Emperor's Smith, as Vulkan was sometimes called, and his own gene-sons opened fire, reducing the Greenskins to cosmic debris. Naval battle groups hunted the Orkish fleets as Legion barges thundered towards the Last Hold. The Crusader Fleet smashed into the Orkish orbital presence, blasting scavenged asteroids and hulking scrap ships, widening the hole left by the Primarch's dragon.
This hole allowed the Angels of Death to enter the battle upon the planet's surface. Steel Rain poured from bombardment cannons and Stormbirds plunged into the atmosphere. As the Orks busied themselves running from dragonfire, the Legio Astartes made planetfall. Oogenera Pattern drop pods of the Primarch's own design smashed into the Greentide, filled with shock-absorbing fluid and equipped with additional armor. These pods slammed into the ground at full reentry speed, hitting like oversize artillery shells and cracking open to unleash Dragonforged Astartes.
The fluid inside the Dropods ignited as they opened. The shock-absorbing substance becoming a jellied fuel-source. Pouring from the pods as they opened, a deluge of flame. Followed by the Dragonforged. Covered in liquid fire and striding the battlefield like primordial giants. Maritan Drop-Keeps, Stormbirds accompanied by interceptors filled the sky. Countless dropods, landers, and teleportation strikes unleashed the XVIII Legion. All while Dragonfire rained down on the Orks.
Then a signal powerful enough to reach every Squat array across the Last Hold started. Across a million screens and receptors, the image of a demigod flared into being, sitting upon a throne of green and gold and clad in ornate power armor designed to mimic the scales and horns of draconic myth. The giant on the throne was easily the size of a Squat war-walker. At first, the Khazkhun watching thought him a statue or silicon creation until the giant's eyes opened. Helmless, his skin was polished ebony with scaled patterns running across his scalp. Eyes of fire, volcanic embers set in deep sockets. The face of some ancient forge god or mountain spirit cast in flesh. Despite the giant's unsettling appearance, a sense of calm certainty radiated from the demigod. The look of a dignified man, please to aid an old friend.
Speaking with a voice that resonated through the bones of all those who heard it, the giant addressed the Last Hold.
"I am Primarch Ogadin Vulkan, son of the Emperor of Mankind, servant of the Throne and Lord-Perpetual." he boomed. "The Imperium of Man has heard your calls for aid. The XVIII Astartes Legion stands ready to defend the Khazrik Hold!"
The Squats did not respond. How could they? After the betrayal of Craftworld Zandros, the possibility of any aid or allies seemed impossible. Within the ancient council chambers, a fierce argument broke out. The elders of the Last Hold clashing over what action to take. Was this some trick? An attempt to profit from the damage done to Ork and Squat by each other? The creature that called itself 'Vulkan' was clearly not a Squat nor even human. Was it some abomination born of Old Night seeking conquest and death? The Living Ancestors were split as well. The power of Vulkan radiated in the Sea of Souls and unnerved them. Some saw a great beast of fire and metal. Others saw the incarnate of ancestral dreams.
With no clear decision, the Council declared it would not fire upon this new force as long as they did not cross the Elder Bridge. Khazrik Hold would defend itself from any invader. Be they greenskinned brutes or bastard scions of mankind. Countless weapons of the Last Hold opened fire upon the Orks. The throng mustered to fight alongside Ur-Dammaz retreating into the cavernous gatehouse.
Vulkan had expected this. Caution bordering on paranoia had kept many worlds alive throughout the Age of Strife. It was wise of the Squats to prepare for the worst. Earning the Last Hold's trust would be difficult. Vulkan did have an idea on how he could prove his noble intentions to the Khazkhun. He would break Grunhag the Flayer before the Squats and offer the Warboss' skull as a token of friendship.
The Dragonforged focused their efforts to take the Elder Bridge's ork controlled side, engaging their enemy to establish a point of contact with the Squats and cornering the Primarch's prey. Entire chapters of Astartes smashed and burned their way towards the bridge, hacking through the greentide to face Grunhag's nobz. Squat artillery rained down on the Orks and Imperial armor alike as they landed across the planet. Cohorts of Auxilia and entire Titan Legions smashed into the surface, preparing to smash the numerous Ork fortresses across Grungron, all while closing in upon the main body of the WAAAGH!!!
The Astartes worked to draw the Ork's attention and work to eliminate Nobz and Weirdboyz. Using the most advanced weapons and armor available to the Imperium like the Wyrmbreath-Pattern fusion gun.This coordinated effort between the Mechanicsus and the XVIII Legion was capable of spitting veritable eruptions of plasma and molten metal to destroy armored targets or unleashing gouts of crimson flame to incinerate anything in its path. Hardy beyond the already superhuman standards of Astartes and equipped with devastating weapons, the Dragonforged burned through the Orks like an unbound flame through kindling.
If Grunhag had the opportunity to rally his forces and wield the WAAAAAAGH!!! as he had before, the Imperium could not hope to triumph. They needed to kill the Orks' momentum and stop any chance of them getting it back. They needed a single decisive blow against the Orkish horde, one that would leave the greenskins leaderless and easily dispatched.
As the battle raged, Grunhag had made his way towards the temporary forward camp the Orks had made before the duel, barking orders and smacking any Ork who looked unsure or worried. A cry of distress swept over the camp as a great dragon flew overhead. Smoke leaked from its maw and great gusts of wind followed her. Ayida the Stellar Dragon flew low and fast, reaching the Elder Bridge and almost skimming the adamantium structure before diving under it. Catching a great volcanic thermal and flying up and back towards the battle. Joined by an escort of Imperial fighters.
The Dragon rejoined the battle in the sky. Her appointed task ended. She had deposited her master where he was needed. Standing alone, without his honor guard or any other allies, Vulkan walked towards the orkish hordes with his mighty warhammer clutched in both hands. Nearing the greenskins, the XVIII Primarch stopped and swung his mighty hammer down upon the adamantium bridge. The weapon let out a tremendous thunderclap, a deep booming note that cut through the din of battle, calling the attention of all to the Dragon Lord.
Grunhag let out a roar and headed towards the bridge. Another foe had taken up the challenge he had issued to the Squats. A growl of annoyance escaped the cybork's healing throat. He could not afford to be tied down in a duel while his WAAAGH floundered. Bellowing orders, Grunhag pushed a group of 'Ardboyz and Nobz towards the Primarch, hoping to stop or slow down "Da Dragun Git". Two dozen of the meanest Ork warriors in WAAAAAGH!!! Grunhag charged the Primarch. Each and every one of the battle-hardened warriors hoped to be the one that would take Vulkans head. Pleased with this, Grunhag got back to work, bellowing orders and organizing the greentide. Trukkz and Buggiez by the thousands broke away from the WAAAGH. A storm of screaming wild Orks hurtled into the ashlands to help defend the Orkish strongholds dotting Grungron. Mobz of Boyz and Stompy 'Fings rallied together to push against the Astartes' advance. Slowly but surely under Grunhag's baleful gaze, the WAAAAAAGH!!! organized itself into the murderous force it was meant to be.
Vulkan watched the Ork warriors approach him as a wall of the wretched xenos also formed at the edge of the bridge to watch the fight and prevent combatants from fleeing. The Primarch's armor alerted him to the Astartes working to push towards his position as they hoped to overrun the basecamp the Orks had created at the bridge and repurpose it for Imperial use. Vulkan would rally his sons and lead them to victory, but after he had dealt with Grunhag and his lackeys.
The Orks Twenty Four of the meanest, greenest Orks in WAAAAAGH!!! Grunhag charged Vulkan, letting out war cries that did nothing but strengthen the Primarch's resolve. A rabid cybork with twin chainblades and a digitized roar was the first to close the distance, jury rigged pistons pushing the feral greenskin towards Vulkan. It lunged forward with whirring blades and a mad cackle. Casually, Vulkan sidestepped it and drew his side arm and fired a gout of superheated metal into the cybork's head and torso with devastating results. As the monster's smoking corpse toppled over, Vulkan stared down the remaining orks. All of them stopped for a moment as a flicker of fear crept through their savage minds. The dragon of legend flying above them was terrifying, but it was a servant to the Dragonlord before them. Even their tiny, savage minds could tell that this was no mere 'humie'. This was perpetual flame bound in armor and flesh. This was a guardian and master of ancient secrets, capable of lifting up the weak and crushing the powerful. This was Ogadin Vulkan, The Imperial Dragon.
Recovering from this momentary weakness, the orks charged the Primarch. Vulkan took each of them as they came. Every single one of them either matched or towered over his bulk, but not one of them stood a chance. Slowly and steadily, Vulkan weaved between the orks' blows. Every movement of his lethal dance was a deliberate calculated choice. Any strike that touched him bounced harmlessly off ceramite plates. At every opportunity, Vulkan struck. Mighty hammer blows or volkite flames obliterated monster after monster. The whole engagement took less than two minutes and by its end all twenty four of the orks lay dead at Vulkan's feat.
This news quickly reached Grunhag. A panicked Grot had its head crushed beneath the Warboss' foot for delivering the message. Barking a few final commands, Grunhag the Flayer mounted his Squiggoth and went to face the new challenger. The Warboss heard his enemy before he saw him. Every few seconds a great resounding boom shook the air, growing louder as Grunhag approached the head of the Elder Bridge. The source of the noise soon became apparent. Orks and orkish war machines formed an impromptu bulwark between the main Greenskin camp and the bridge. It was a bulwark formed of thousands of greenskins packed together attempting to flee what was coming. Each booming noise was a thunderous hammer blow as Vulkan walked towards the fleeing enemy forces. Swinging his weapon back and forth, each of the mighty Primarch's strikes flipped wagonz over or sent scores of orks flying. Every bullet and blast the greenskins levelled at Vulkan failed to even scratch his armor. Any greenskin stupid, brave, or unlucky enough to get close to the Primarch was reduced to a sizzling pulp. Grunhag was conflicted as he watched the spectacle unfold. He needed to return to his tent and whip his WAAAAAAGH!!! into motion. But something deep inside him hungered for the challenge before him. Something in his very genetic code yearned to face a true and "propa fight for da ages".
Beasital instincts won out against bullying tyranny. Grunhag leapt from his steed and started to push through the fleeing orks. His power klaws hacked through the cowardly Greenskins as he trudged through them. At long last, Grunhag entered the makeshift arena that had been formed from broken orkish vehicles and any greenskin in Vulkan's way. The Warboss and Primarch stood twenty meters from each other, sizing each other up like ancient gladiators. Grunhag started to approach Vulkan and the sheer size of the Greenskin became apparent to the Dragon Lord. Grunhag stood more than seven meters tall, twice that of Vulkans frame. The Warboss loomed over the largest Primarch. A true Beast of Great Slaughter.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone