Wolfull Destruction: Space Wolves vs Black Legion

Sweetwater Egress campaign: Episode 8

"Traitors on auspex. Descending at 1320 and 1310, two groups with support, making for the control tower of the Space Port."

Grumir rarely left the cockpit of Feirfeigr, the Stormfang he piloted. He'd caught shrapnel in his throat after flying through heavy Ork flak a hundred years back, and spoke in a deadly monotonous rasp. He was so attuned to the ship's machine spirit, he almost sounded like one himself. 

"Spear/Stream, Vefrlag formation," Baedlara ordered. "Full pack, stand ready."

 Baedlara had kept their dropships well in reserve, knowing they'd be prime targets for the Black Legion otherwise. Lucky he had - after the fiasco at the vehicle pool, they'd needed rescuing before the Beserkers caught up with them. Now, he could reach their traitorous prey finally descended in force on Sweetwater's Spaceport. Fighting above the port was risky, anything they took down could easily cause casualties or damage on the launch pads below. If they couldn't kill them here, though, the carnage would be far worse. 

There weren't many of his Wolves left. He looked round at them in the bay of the Stormfang, strapped in under the thrumming batteries of the massive Destructor cannon. Skov, adjusting the lens of his bolt rifle as though he sat in the peace of the armoury. Fleinn, kneeling in his heavy Gravis armour and pressing the hilt of his sword to his helmet. Eythask, prowling back and forth across the cramped cargo space like a caged bear. 

"What but thy grace can foil the Tempter's power?" he murmured to himself. They'd be enough.

They had to be.

---

The campaign rages on (catch up on previous episodes here) as Kraken's doughty Space Wolves finally catch-up with their prey, the equally-predatory Black Legion, led by Stranger-Come-Knocking.

Space Wolves 

Kraken here! That nice man Monkey has been kind enough to loan Stylus a couple of big flying boxes for my final fight, and I'm delighted to take them out for a spin. They're right hefty, and ought to give me something of an edge over the Black Legion, who don't seem to have much in terms of anti-armour. 

I'm then throwing that edge away by taking a Kelly's Heroes style list - it's almost all characters. Leaning into that, I've negotiated an alternative army trait for the list. They're using the Stormlance Task Force for strategems, but instead of the usual advance-and-charge, I can instead count any characters within 2" of the Warlord as being his bodyguard unit in terms of his own unit-leading ability triggering, although they still aren't a bodyguard and can be targeted separately or move about as usual. 

For this game, the Phobos Librarian gives them Stealth and stops you shooting at them from more than 12" away. Which is mostly useless against the Black Legion's assault troops, but might just about save someone from pistol fire at some point!

• Baedlara, Librarian in Phobos Armour (warlord)
  Force Sword, Bolt Pistol
  Feinting Withdrawal
• Fleinn, Captain in Gravis Armour
  Master-crafted Heavy Bolt Rifle and Master-crafted Power Weapon 
• Spuerr, Captain with Jump Pack
  Thunder Hammer and Relic Shield 
• Eythask, Chaplain
  Absolver Bolt Pistol, Crozius Arcanum
• Skov, Lieutenant
  Pistol, Master-crafted Bolt Rifle & Melee Weapon
• Oldingr, Primaris Company Champion
  Bolt Pistol & Master-crafted Power Weapon
• 4 x Assault Intercessors with Jump Packs
  3 x Astartes Chainsword & Heavy Bolt Pistol, 1 x Astartes Chainsword &  Plasma Pistol
• Feirfeigr, Stormfang Gunship
  Helfrost destructor, Twin lascannon, Twin stormstrike missile launcher, Two twin heavy bolters
• Reifleythangr, Stormwolf
  Twin Helfrost Cannon, Twin lascannon, Two twin heavy bolters

Black Legion

It's much the same airborne strike force as in their previous mission (which is fortunate, given the nature of the terrain). So with The Nail and his second-in-command, Hammer, we can now add Sledge, the Daemon Prince of Khorne.

Not a lot of range in this list, but plenty of chop!

• The Nail - [Haarken Worldclaimer] (warlord)
  Hellspear, Herald's Talon, Mark of Chaos Undivided
• The Hammer - Chaos Lord with Jump Pack
  Chainsword, Combi-bolter, Mark of Chaos Undivided
• Sledge - Heretic Astartes Daemon Prince with wings
  Infernal cannon, Helforged weapons, Mark of Khorne
  Enhancement: Talisman of Burning Blood
• 5 x Raptors
  Power fist & bolt pistol, 2 x Astartes chainswords & bolt pistols, 2 x Meltaguns, Mark of Chaos Undivided
• 5 x Raptors
  Accursed weapon & plasma pistol, 2 x Astartes chainswords & bolt pistols, 2 x Plasma guns, Mark of Chaos Undivided
• 5 x Warp Talons
  Warp claws, Mark of Khorne
• 5 x Warp Talons
  Warp claws, Mark of Khorne
• Heldrake
  Baleflamer, Heldrake claws, Mark of Khorne

Mission and Deployment

For change of scene tonight, we're taking to the skies! Everything on the board is up in the clouds, except for the highest peaks of the mountains and the topmost spires of the spaceport.

The win conditions for tonight are very simple: 

• The Space Wolves must get to Turn 5 with at least 4 characters still alive (one of which must have boots on the central landing platform).
• If they only have 3 characters alive, it's a draw.
• If they have two or less, the Black Legion win.

For any unit that cannot fly, to step on anything that is not one of the five terrain pieces means instant death. The terrain will not obstruct any flyer, but it can still provide a block to line-of-sight.

As an afterthought, I also placed an Icarus Lascannon on top of one of the summits. It can be operated by any astartes.

The Space Wolves begin the deployment loaded into their transports: Jump Pack Intercessors and Jump Captain into the Stormwolf; all the other characters into the Stormfang. 

The Hammer's crew of Raptors deploy to the north, hugging as much cover as they can.

The Nail and his Raptors, along with the Daemon Prince, cling to the rocks in the south. The Heldrake soars down the centre. Both Warp Talons are left in deepstrike.

Space Wolves win the roll-off and are going first!

Turn 1 - Space Wolves

"On approach," Grumir rasped. 

As one, the Wolves rose and stood in order by the egress ramp, Baedlara at the front. Their boots were mag-clamped to the floor, but they all still swayed as the vessel's speed dropped sharply. Green runes of warning and preparedness glowered around the exit. The combat drop was imminent. 

The temperature in the hull abruptly dropped. Frost blossomed across the copper tubing that looped across the ceiling, tiny hanging crystals even forming in the air. Icy blue temperature warnings blinked in their autosenses. There was a deep growling sound, building up through their bones like deep sea pressure. 

"Snake/Harm," Grumir said, then the Helfrost Destructor fired. 

Very simple movement phase: both aircraft accelerate forwards to flank the central landing platform and then train every gun on the Heldrake.

The winged daemon engine does a good job of weathering the storm of fire, but the final two shots of the Helfrost Destructor thump home and the Heldrake is ripped from the sky.

That's a blow - the best anti-aircraft unit in the Black Legion has gone before it could even draw fiery breath.

Turn 1 - Black Legion

The Heldrake plunged into the bank of humid mist that rose over the Spaceport, a frozen beard of crystallised smoke trailing stiffly behind it like a coral growth. There was life down there, enough warmth to give off a haze of fug as the planet's core began to die out. Through it, The Hammer could see the brutalist shapes of Astartes drop ships. 

He snarled - the damn dogs of the corpse cult had somehow caught up with them, just as the last sacrifices were to be made. His jetpack howled as he pushed it to its limits, spiralling down towards the maintenance gantry that rose out of the sea of mist, his followers in tight formation round him. Flickering blue fire crackled over their pinions. The Nail had ordained the Rites of Graizhe. Daemons rode with them, infusing them with a bleak bloodlust. 

The dropships were flanking the tower, engines blazing as they banked in formation, their blunt snouts breaking open to disgorge armoured figures on the rusted deck of the gantry. The Hammer felt his own battle-lust magnified by the soulless, nameless presences bound in his armour.

"Smash them!" he ordered as they dove towards the interlopers, his voice rippling and booming weirdly as the spirits echoed his hate.

Undaunted, the Hammer leads his Raptors directly towards the Stormwolf, burning off a few tailfins with their meltaguns.

Showing slightly more respect for the enemy fire, The Nail and his followers cling tightly to the cover afforded them by the summits, followed by the Daemon Prince. They chip a few wounds off the Stormfang with overcharged plasma guns, but are too far to attempt a charge,

Not so The Hammer, who plunges down upon the Stormwolf and begins beating down upon its hull. Their chainswords are able to bring it down to 5 wounds remaining, but the aircraft if still operational and even sucks one of the Raptors into its turbines.

Turn 2 - Space Wolves

Baedlara's boots clanged as he jumped down to the gantry. The whole surface of the deck vibrated with tinny rigidity, shuddering and shivering as the rest of his pack thundered on to it. It would hold, but the whole structure seemed to protest their presence. 

Engines roared, whipping the rising mist into spinning whorls as Grumir pushed the gunship forwards. Red pulses of plasma streaked past, some caroming off Feirfeigr's armour, others cutting into it with sharp booming reports. Baedlara squinted into the murk - there was something out there, more felt than seen, a brooding presence that held itself cloaked for the moment. 

"Bring them in to us," Baedlara ordered. Skov and Fleinn snapped into firing positions, Eythask began chanting one of the old hymns. On the other side of the gantry, the huge shadow of Reyfleithangr, their other dropship, hovered. Black-clad traitors clung to the sides, hacking at the turrets or cauterizing the steering surfaces with meltas. The Black Legion was already on them. 

Reyfleithangr's boarding ramp yawned open and a pack of screaming Intercessors burst out, their own jetpacks blazing. With a sudden boom, the Stormwolf accelerated, scattering traitors like leaves in its wake. The Intercessors tore into them, pistols cracking and swords howling. 

Both transports now decide to unload their passengers. The Jump Intercessors fly out of the Stormwolf, ready to claw away the Raptors pestering it. Meanwhile the Librarian, Gravis Captain, Chaplain, Lieutenant and Champion all get out onto the platform, beating their chests and shouting taunts at The Nail.

The two aircraft continue their trajectory, banking left and right. Flying danger-close to The Nail's squadron, Stormfang attempts to gun down the Daemon Prince, but fails against his unholy presence.

The Stormwolf turns its guns against the Hammer's Raptors as it flees, taking down another.

The pistols of the Jump Intercessors take out a further two Raptors, leaving only the Hammer left to receive their flying charge.

The Jump Pack Intercessors then descend upon the Hammer, smashing into him and carving him up before he could even respond.

It's looking grim for the heretics. The first wave has failed, the second is already taking hits and the Space Wolves are dominating the central objective.

Turn 2 - Black Legion

The Hammer fought with his jump pack, twisting in the air as he tried to regain control. His kin were hard pressed, dropping out of the sky as the wolf-scum felled them. Finally, he managed to correct his dive with a tight blast from his turbines, and pulled up, bellowing a challenge. 

Too soon, it was met - he had just enough time to take in the armoured figure descending on him, a glowing hammer in its hands, before its swing slammed into his head. 

Instantly, his consciousness was snapped out of his frame, torn through the air on the spark-tipped claws of spirits. Cold and pain lashed him for what seemed like minutes, but then he was safe, back in a place he knew as home, blade in hand and armour over his winged back. 

Barely a second had passed, he was watching the tower from a short distance now. He watched as the Corpse Cult dropships streaked out from it, flashes in the mist behind showing that battle was joined. They would flank him, crackling sub-zero energy building in one as the other arced round to bring its launchers to bear. Too much power. 

He reached out his mind - there, nearby, an ancient defence turret, grafted to the tip of a rocky spire. The machine spirit in it was old and weak, but stubborn. It fought his gifted infusion of warpkin, and although the turret began to spin, it was too slow. 

He reached out again. One of his warband heard his mental command, altering trajectory and slamming down next to the turret. Dropping his weapons, the legionnaire grabbed it and tore it off its cradle, ramming a clawed gauntlet deep into its innards to trigger the old cannon's firing mechanism. Searing light ripped out, intercepting one of the dropships and cutting deep into it. Orange flame broke out in a great starburst and the shattered hull plummted towards the port. 

Hammer smiled, flexed his pinions and leapt to meet the surviving ship.

Eyes firmly fixed on the challengers, The Nail leads his flight towards the landing pad. However, the rearmost Raptor is close enough to the Icarus Lascannon to operate it, so he lingers to train the anti-aircraft gun on the flyers.

Taking no chances, the Stormfang triggers Overwatch and hoses down two of the Raptors with its dispersed Helfrost Destructor.

With that out of the way, the Daemon Prince swoops low, ready to charge the Stormfang.

On the other side of the field, tears in reality open up and both units of Warp Talons spill out, ready to threaten the Jump Intercessors.

The Shooting Phase has some cursory small-arms fire, and a couple of overheated plasmas shots that plunge directly into the Space Wolves Chaplain and fells him before combat has begun!

The lethal shots don't end there: the Icarus Lascannon trains on the wounded Stormwolf and scores a direct hit. The aircraft explodes and the Space Wolves have just lost one of their precious transports!

With the intention of making it a double-loss, the Daemon Prince jumps on the Stormfang and starts clawing away at the cockpit. However, a combination of poor rolls to hit, and some incredible saves (triple 6s!) the Stormfang survives on a single wound.

It's equally frustrating for the Warp Talons, where only one unit succeeds in making the charge. Despite praying to the Dark Gods, they only slay one Space Wolf and two of their own number are killed with the Dark Pact fails!

Hoping to redeem this combat phase, The Nail leads the remains of his crew against the landing pad and selects the Space Wolves Champion as his victim. The Helspear sings again and a second of the Vylka heroes are cut down.

This single death was apparently not enough to appease the Ruinous Powers, as the unit fails its Dark Pact and the jubilant Lascannon operator is dragged into the Warp.

After such a devastating shooting phase, the Space Wolves appear to have out-fought the Black Legion in melee. But two of their six characters are dead, which makes the margin of error as thin as springtime frost.

Turn 3 - Space Wolves

"Fire/Sick, Fire/Sick" Grumir growled in Baedlara's ear. There was no time to aid him, though. If they could win this fight here on the tower, they wouldn't need airlifting away. 

Behind him, Spuerr and his Intercessors struggled with a ululating cloud of warp-twisted madmen. Rifts flickered in the sky as the heretics tore in and out of reality, shifting themselves to strike from behind, above, below. Hammer and bolter met them, but they were a seething pack of predators, and Spuerr could only hold back so many. 

More were already here. 

Eythask was down, boiled in his armour by plasma. Skov and Fleinn redoubled their covering fire, twin streams of bolter rounds intercepting a descending traitor and smashing the vanes off his jump pack. Screaming, the black-clad figure span off into the mist. Baelara felt the tower shudder as he crashed into a spur of it lower down. 

Something flashed out of the clouds, impossibly fast. Oldingr took it in the chest, a steel shaft that drove clean through him, and he was down, fastened to the decking next to the bubbling ruin of Eythask. The spear that had felled him smouldered and vanished in a smeary cloud of red, reappearing in the hand of the traitor captain now perched on the gantry's railing, the clawed talons on his feet clamping into the steel. 

Baedlara spoke the words, and cast a great web of lightning out at the traitor, netting him. Contemptuously, the black champion spun his smoking glaive, scattering the web in dark embers. 

"I am The Nail!" the figure roared. "I come to close your coffins!"

"Life/Robber! Fell him!" Baedlara roared back, and his pack roared with him as they bounded in.

Clinging to its last wound, the Stormfang banks away from the enraged Daemon Prince, who can only Overwatch in impotent frustration.

At least with the summit between them, the Stormfang cannot train its guns on the Daemon Prince, so it settles for gunning down one of the unengaged Warp Talons instead.

The three remaining characters on the landing pad train all their small arms on the Raptors, gunning down The Nail's bodyguard and leaving him exposed for the charge.

But The Nail hasn't survived this long without knowing some tricks. He withstands the frenzied attacks from all three Space Wolves, and remains combat-effective with three wounds left.

The duel in the skies continues, with a second Jump Pack Intercessor falling, and two more Warp Talons succumbing to the Jump Lord's thunder hammer. The final Warp Talon falls back into the abyss when the unit fails another Dark Pact.

Now The Nail gets to make his attack, and chooses the enemy warlord, the Phobos Librarian, as his victim. Impaling him many times with the Helspear, he casts down his enemy from the tower and revels in triumph.

He then fails his Dark Pact and suffers three mortal wounds. Double warlord kill!

The Nail laughed. This was living! This was why he fought the Corpse Cultists. So sure of themselves, so pathetically astonished when he beat them!

One wolf even threw away his bolt rifle and drew a knife, he was so assured of his prowess. The Nail caught his rush on the spear's tip, pivoted and spun - flipped the howling marine straight over the edge of the gantry and into empty air. 

Their leader, or priest, or whatever feeble excuse for a sorcerer he was, tried to ensnare him with another sparkling net. The Nail's ritual spirits snaked out, their hungry fingers unpicking the warp knots as fast as the little wizard could fasten them, and the web collapsed, shorting out weakly into the decking of the gantry. In a flash, the Nail was on him, glaive smashing the sword from his hand, tripping him so he lay on a pile of his dead brothers. 

Turn 3 - Black Legion

The other Wolves were busy - the Warp Talons had drawn their sky pack away, then wrong-footed them. A matter of time before they fell. The Nail could savour this one's futile rage for a moment longer. He stood over him, spear twirling idly. 

"You cannot abide my kind, can you?" he asked softly. The wolf jerked feebly on the floor, still trying to reach his sword, although the Nail's talons had pinned him to the deck. "It never occurs to you that we might be stronger. Or right."

"Kah," coughed the wolf, still desperately stretching for his weapon. The Nail leaned down, tore the wolf's helm off and laughed into his pale old face. 

"You should have left this planet to us. It was already dying when you arrived. You've achieved nothing here, rescued nobody. The people you came to save are already dead."

"I... didn't come to save," snarled the wolf, and suddenly his hand was full of a cold fire that he slammed into the rotten gridiron beneath them both. Suddenly the sparks of his web were there, rekindled, and the decking around them both disintegrated, pitching them both down into the thin mists. 

The Nail shouted in surprise and fury, gunned his jump pack, but the wolf was clinging to him and wielding a knife, jamming it into the turbine so that it erupted in a plume of smoke. 

"Abide with me!" the wolf snarled into the Nail's face as they both fell into darkness.

For a moment, the Nail falls, then his pack ignites in a fireball and he and his slayer are consumed, dead before their bodies can even slam into the ground far below.

As it was with The Hammer, however, it is not his end. 

The neverborn bound to his armour by the Rites of Graizhe tear his soul out of his burning body, carry it in their painfully cold clutch back to another form. The towering shape that now stands atop the tower, winged and mighty - Sledge, Daemon Prince, his twin souls reunited again. 

In one massive talon, he holds and breaks the body of a mighty Space Wolf hero, Gravis armour buckling like breadcrust under such void-bolstered might. Around him, his lesser servants flap and squabble, bickering amongst themselves as they bid to kill the last wolves in an attempt to win his attention. 

Yes, he remembers now. Why he came to Sweetwater, why he split his consciousness into the frames of his two servants. Fusion, when it comes, releases energy. Energy he can use.  

Something catches his eye. A flicker of blue light out in the mist. Craning to look, he sees a burning comet streaking in towards the tower, a cold point of brightness burning at its tip. 

There's not much left now on either side, but the killing doesn't stop. The remaining Warp Talons and Daemon Prince converge on the landing pad, determined to avenge their warlord.

Striking from behind, The Warp Talons rip the Lieutenant apart, while the blood-mad Daemon Prince twists off the Gravis Captain's head.

With only one Space Wolf character remaining, that sets the seal on the Black Legion's victory. It's a good job the Wolves aren't famously vengeful or anything...

Turn 4 - Space Wolves

Fleinn watches as Grumir somehow wrestles the blazing wreck of Feirfeigr round in a flawless firing pass despite lacking one of its rear wings. Helfrost engulfs the maintenance gantry, the hulking figure there and its crow-like attendants, as well as the honoured bodies of his battle brothers. 

All is lost as the tower collapses, shattered to snowflakes that tumble down into the port below. 

As they crow their victory on the landing pad, the Stormfang banks around one last time and unloads everything into the Daemon Prince. Unable to withstand the barrage a second time, he is sent screaming back to the Warp.

The Jump Captain and his final Intercessor leap onto the platform and make short work of the last two Warp Talons. No heretics remain in the skies. They howl their triumph, but the victory was a hollow one.

Result: Victory to the Black Legion!

No. Not everything is lost. 

Horribly, as the Helfrost energy subsides, something remains. A ruddy scar in reality, a red rift that sputters and flares, threatening to grow. Tiny sparks sift down from it, following the clean snow of the Destructor's blast, fitful orange-black ashes. 

Where they land, they stick and grow, their burning edges spreading. Only a little now, but Fleinn can see that this, whatever this dark sorcery is, is going to be a final death or worse for anyone in the Spaceport. That thing, the incarnate evil he glimpsed on the tower's top for just a moment, must have planned its own sacrifice somehow, used its own dying energies to fuel this tearing of reality's curtain. 

Now, the frightful hate of the endless void can rush in, bringing a final, fatal deluge to Sweetwater. 

Locker room

Hell of a game! That's me well and truly out of the campaign on a very consistent zero for three. But I've loved losing every time, especially with such high drama in my final instalment! 

That was very experimental, so I'm glad it produced such a close result. I did wonder if keeping four characters alive was a tall order for the Space Wolves, but the potential firepower of their transports could have rendered any melee action moot.

As it was, both players went at the challenge with a narrative spirit and were rewarded with some magical dice rolls - the Stormfang surviving the Daemon Prince's attack; the Dark Pact ending The Nail just as he won his duel. Marvellous!