Orks And Space Wolves In Bloody Stalemate

Whilst partaking of a particularly fine tipple in the Flea and Firkin, this reporter was almost half-way through second breakfast when a breathless urchin burst in, looking for someone to pass on his news.  He was stammering his words, so hard had he run that he was scarce able to catch his breath.  But his words, well those that made sense, made this old reporter's blood pump like he was 20 years younger.  The Adeptus Astartes were nearby!  It is not every day that the Emperor's finest warriors can be viewed at close quarters.  And not only were they nearby, but they were about to face off against Orks.  Savage brutes with a single-minded purpose to inflict as much violence as possible on their enemies.  And Orks are almost as dangerous.  It was too good an opportunity to resist!


So, pausing only to slurp the rest of the gravy, smoke a small pipe, and to cuff the urchin for trying to filch a chicken drumstick, this reporter made his excuses to the landlord that the food was unfit to eat and he could query the bill with the expenses department and left to seek out this battle...

Before the battle started, both sides agreed to have some promotional shots taken for a recruitment drive.  Here the poster boys of the Ork force put on a show of bravado.

Tankbustas are elite troops in an Ork force, and what is there not to be impressed about a warrior so committed that he'll nail a rocket to a length of metal pipe and then run up to a tank and hit it with all his strength?

The rank and file of an Ork army is equipped in a pleasingly simplistic fashion.  Here one of 'da boyz' hunts for squigs amongst the ruins.

The Space Wolves, feared as perhaps the most savage of all the Space Marines, have hidden depths.  Lonewolf Tuomas is an accomplished saga teller, for example.  But he also insisted that he has cut the threads of many, many of mankind's enemies, and this reporter's would follow should he be mocked in any way.

The Grey Hunters pause before the battle.  Their thoughts are almost alien to this reporter, and he still fears for his life thread should he perhaps offer a less than serious caption.

A Rhino, faithful transport of the Emperor's Angels of Death.

And so the scene was set for conflict.  Both sides refused even the very idea of parley.  It seems the forces of the Inquisition had previously been in the area, and left behind five of their sophisticated surveillance devices.  Both sides were desperate to recover them.  But to this reporter's finely-tuned senses, it seemed that the two sides were more geared up for violence than the simple act of collecting some discarded equipment.

And so it proved.  Gentle readers, this reporter is seldom wrong where his senses guide him. Particularly in taste and smell, and this day he could smell blood.  And gravy.  It seems he had managed to bring the gravy boat from the table next to him in the inn, as well as several bottles from the bar.  Not wishing to waste such an unexpected surprise, he spread out a pocketful of cutlery, also seemingly from the inn, and had time for a swift snack before the dice was cast, and the Space Wolves launched the battle.

An Inquisition spy beacon.  yesterday.

The Orks lined up in a classic long line formation, completely ignoring the Inquisition spy beacons.  They were too keen to get to grips with the Space Wolves and have a good scrap, they had previously confided to this reporter.

The Space Wolves were similarly composed, and whilst mindful of the spy beacons, were more concerned on eradicating the Xenos scum.  Making use of smoke from the Dreadnoughts and Rhino, they advanced.

The Orks advanced methodically, with seeming invulnerability as melta blasts and rockets exploded harmlessly or missed completely.  The barking of the bomb squigs was drowned out by the smoke-belching monstrosity - the Battlewagon.

Advancing with his lupine companions, the Lonewolf survived withering fire to remain standing, battered but unbowed.  Singing the sagas of old, he advanced towards the Orks alone.

One shot, one kill...
Though obscured by smoke, a lucky shot from the zzzap gun on the battlewagon created a massive pyrotechnic display of exploding dreadnought...

The Rune Priest was struggling to compose his thoughts and channel the power of the warp.

The Lonewolf reached da boyz, and was straight away surrounded by the green horde.  But he shrugged off his attackers and dispensed the Emperor's justice.  He was soon joined by the Grey Hunters who destroyed the massive mob of 'da boyz'.

The Tankbustas spied the Rhino, but the Battlewagon got a shot off first.  It missed, leaving the coast clear for the rokkits to strike home.

Incredibly, the Tankbustas scored hits on the Rhino, and destroyed it utterly.  At this point in time it seemed that nothing would stand in the way of the Orks.  They were destroying the Space Wolf vehicles one after the other.

The Deffdread wanted in on the action, but the pilot was so fixated on the marines in front of him that he failed to notice the threat on his flank.

The Dreadnought unleashed a barrage of fire at the Ork Deffdread, who didn't even notice.  Clearly the targetting machine spirits of the Space Wolves had not been sufficiently appeased prior to the battle.

Seeing how the Orks were advancing, the Space Wolves decided to wait in cover.

The Rune Priest attempted to snap shut the Jaws of the Werewolf, but it proved to be the Jaws of the Mouse, with a hint of Nuzzling By Old Labrador.

And then it started to go wrong for the Orks.  The Mekboy with the Lootas, in his enthusiasm to gun down the Lonewolf, blew himself up as his Kustom Megablasta lived up to its name.

The Deffdread reached the Grey Hunters, and started to carve them up.

However, the Space Wolf sergeant, seeing his troops falling, fought back well, almost destroying the Deffdread.  But ultimately, the big, red, stomping machine proved superior, though it was badly damaged in the process.  Only some rapid repairs by the Grots on board allowed it to start walking again.

A Dreadnought pilot's worst nightmare.

Finally reaching the Space Wolves in cover, the Ork Warboss and his Nobz emerge from the Battlewagon.

Roaring his fearsome battle cry, the Ork Warboss looked for something to kill.

Rocked by exploding bomb squigs, the Dreadnought was unable to withstand the Tankbustas special 'rokkit on a big pole' wonder-weapons.

Preparing to unleash the Jaws of the Werewolf on the unsuspecting Orks, the Rune Priest forgot a crucial nuance of the spell.  The Orks were oblivious to how close they had come to being utterly destroyed.  Could anything stop them?

With his fighting dander up and the rage of Mork (or maybe Gork) on him, this reporter stayed firmly behind a stone wall to grab this pict.  That attack squig was on a long chain, and this reporter still had some sausages to finish before he would be running anywhere.

And then it happened!  Somehow, the Rune Priest and the Grey Hunters defeated the Ork Warboss and his Nobz.  They slew them as the Ork seemed to grow scared of the Space Wolves and turned to flee.  Creeping closer, this reporter was able to grab a quick pict from atop a metal walkway.  If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, this reporter would scarce have believed that an Ork would lose belief in a fight after just one round.

As the battle drew to a conclusion, the Lonewold charged the near crippled Deffdread.  

But it still proved too much for the brave warrior.  Leaking hydraulic fluids and belching exhaust fumes, the Deffdread had survived.

And so the battle drew to a close.  This reporter had heard the plans of both sides, how they would recover the spy beacons, and then he had watched as both sides threw themselves fully against the foe in an all-out attempt to annihilate them.

Savage losses on both sides saw them both retreat from the battlefield.  It was barbaric, it was inhuman, but it was a spectacle.  As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, this reporter sat on a discarded helm and raised a bottle of wine which appeared to have fallen into his backpack in the inn, and saluted the warriors of both sides.

Ad Victorem Spolias. In this case, it was truly this reporter, who now has five inquisition spy beacons, a Space Wolf helm and a large barrel of fungus brew to while away the long hours till he is called upon again.  Stay healthy, loyal readers, and keep tuned to this channel.  This reporter shall return.