Blood Thirsty Thursday! Bellean Sector Ambush!

When we last left Vedrix his small detachment of Rubric marines were attempting to secure ancient eldar artifacts that could help Ahriman gain access to a more vulnerable part of the eldar webway system.

Vedrix made contact with the Disciples of Caliban and in the ensuing skirmish the Thousand Sons renegades made off with the technology, prying it from the cold dead hands of the Dark Angels.

Now, days later as Vedrix and his fellowship are being pursued as they attempt to leave the Bellean moon and return the spoils of war to their master, Ahriman.

During the waning hours of the afternoon the column of Rhinos ground to a halt. The daemon Vedrix was as a stone statue in the withering heat. He sensed a ripple in the warp. Without uttering a word the sorcerers of his fellowship fanned out to take up defensive positions, their thoughts as one. The empty suits of armor that were the Rubric marines obeyed their masters without hesitation.

In the silence, Vedrix and his forces slowly crept into the center of the ruined town. Then, from above, a white hot ball of metal crashed down into the sands behind one of the massive defilers. In the blink of an eye, the arcane wardings upon the defilers crumbled and the crazed Defilers surged to life with violent roars and dark screams. Vedrix had unleashed them upon the form of a black and green dreadnought that emerged from the smoking drop pod. On its hull, the white lion, the Disciples of Caliban were upon them.

With unholy fury the defiler tore the mechanized arm from the hulking form, sparks and debris littering the air. Simultaneously another massive claw ripped a small, now gore soaked, corpse from the Dreadnought. It crashed down, a ruin. From the flanks the Rubric Marines engaged Ravenwing bikers as their Rhino transport was pelted by rays of intense heat. They fired their sorcererous shells into the warriors as their Sorcerer unsheathed his gleaming sword impaling one of the riders.

On the other side of the field, Terminators lead by Interrogator Chaplain William and Captain Adso appeared, but they misjudged the blood lust of the mighty defilers. Such is the arrogance of loyalist dogs. Distracted by a spray of bolter fire from the nearby ruins and shaken by their teleportation through the warp, the Terminators were too late to react to the thunderous charge of two Defilers. Razor sharp metal tore through their armor with bone crushing force. Adso and William narrowly avoided being instantly destroyed in the fury, dodging sweeps and high strikes. William's vision turned black, the shower of blood that covered him from the disemboweling of his brother terminator was all the Defilers needed to find their mark. Adso turned to see his Chaplain's head hurling threw the air. Adso faltered, and was instantly lifted into the air by one arm as another massive claw tore his body in two.

The Dark Angel Techmarines battled off crazed dreadnoughts as Tactical Marines lept from their Rhinos and fell upon Thousand Sons. The Sorcerer fought wildly and found his mark, taking down four of the emperor's pups with unearthly speed. The force staff hummed as it blasted their souls from their bodies, their armor collapsing with a clang. But there were too many, eventually they were overwhelmed with a withering barrage of bolter fire from advancing Rhinos.

The Dark Angels Techmarines had to slice the still grasping hands of the rubric marines from the eldar technology.

Another of the Sorcerers summoned his courage, another dreadnought emerged from a smouldering drop pod spewing blue bursts of plasma and fire plumes of flames immoliating his Rubric body guards. He heard the faint whisper as a green dust rose out of the charred blue and gold armor. The fool would pay for that. The earth shook before the towering dreadnought as it bore down on the sorcerer, he felt a cold chill as he was engulfed by its shadow. Stone and sand flew in all directions as a mammoth mechanized fist struck the ground where the sorcerer was standing. As if he had foreseen where the blow would land, the Sorcerer dove to the right and readied his melta bomb. A quick shoulder roll and he was primed and in position. The internal mechanisms of the dreadnought turned to a molten white hot mixture and poured like blood on the ground, with a slow creak the behemoth began to fall backwards. After the cloud of dust had cleared, there stood the venerable Sorcerer, "Where is your faith now, worm" he spat.

Vedrix fought valiantly but was wounded and was forced to fall back. The Disciples took the spoils of war, but at a great price.

The Bellean moon is starting to turn into more than an average recovery mission, The Disciples are planning something, and vengeance will be had here.