C. Goto - Dawn of War

The route to the top of the mountain was littered with debris and bodies. Chunks of eldar jetbikes and the ruins of a Vyper still smoked vaguely, but there were also burnt-out assault bikes bearing the markings of the Alpha Legion, and smatterings of corpses, both eldar and Chaos Marine.

The Blood Ravens ploughed on undaunted. The roar of their engines and the sight of the detachment deployed in such formidable force filled their hearts with pride. At the head of the column, heroically silhouetted against the red sun as he gazed out of the side of his Rhino, was Gabriel, his chainsword already drawn in readiness, and the image swelled the confidence of every Marine in the line, as they drew their weapons to honour their captain.

As the summit approached, the Marines could see bursts of blue flame jousting out of the mountain top towards the heavens, but the angle of the slope blocked their view of the ground up there.

Gabriel waved his chainsword, and two clutches of bikes peeled away from the convoy, drawing up along side the Typhoons on either side of his Rhino. He wanted to make sure that the eldar saw an imposing front line as they crested the summit. He gazed proudly across the line, and could think of few sights more splendid than a solid bank of Blood Ravens roaring over the crest of a mountain pass.

As the Rhino rolled up onto the mountain top, bringing the whole of the summit into view, Gabriel was surprised to see the extent of the killing field that unfolded before him. He raised his fist into the air, bringing the Blood Ravens to a halt, as he swept his gaze over the vista and tried to take it in.

There were dozens of Alpha Legionaries lying where they had died, riddled with holes and oozing with blood, their armour shattered beyond repair by the strange alien weapons. Their bodies gave the rocky mountain top an aura of acidic green. Intermixed amongst them were the bodies of the fallen eldar, each was a blaze of blue fire, with flames reaching seven metres into the air as the supernatural fire consumed their bodies.

Beyond them, on the very peak of Mount Korath, was an unusual-looking menhir, roughly elliptical in shape and covered with an indescribable array of blue torches. But, as far as Gabriel could see, there was no eldar army lying in wait. The scene was eerily silent.

Jumping down from the hatch of the Rhino, Gabriel strode off toward the menhir, picking his way between the corpses. Isador leapt down after him, and then the Rhino doors opened fully to let Prathios and Corallis join them. The four Marines fanned out and made their way towards the giant marker stone.

Suddenly Corallis dropped down onto one knee, inspecting the ground at his feet. The others stopped, watching the sergeant carefully, trusting his eyes. Isador planted his staff against the rock and Prathios spun his crozius arcanum menacingly.

“Something was here only moments ago,” crackled Corallis through the vox system. “But the tracks are strange. They just seem to appear and disappear, without leading anywhere.”

Gabriel strode forward of the group, unwilling to be intimidated by the unusual ways of the eldar. As he approached the menhir, something flickered into his path and then vanished. He paused, scanning the scene for other signs of movement. Another flicker made him turn. A heavy-looking eldar warrior appeared suddenly to the side of the menhir. It planted its feet and let loose with a spray of writhing filament from some kind of rotary weapon.

There were a series of cries from behind him, and Gabriel turned as he rolled clear of the gout of fire, and he saw three other eldar, similar to the first. They had appeared from nowhere, and were now arrayed against the rest of his team, cutting them off from him.

As he came out of his roll, Gabriel squeezed off a rattle of shots from his bolt pistol back towards the alien in front of him, but the Warp Spider had already gone. It had simply vanished. Turning, he saw his battle-brothers snapping their weapons from side to side, impotently searching for their targets in the same way.

“Warp Spiders, Gabriel,” hissed Isador’s voice through the vox. “This could be another trap.” A great flash of lightning jousted out of Isador’s staff, flashing towards the menhir. Just before the bolt reached the huge stone, there was a faint shimmer in its path and a Warp Spider chose that point to slip back into real space. Isador’s bolt crashed into the eldar, catching it full in the chest and lifting it off its feet, throwing it backwards against the menhir with a crack.

Immediately, Gabriel and Prathios opened up with their bolters, riddling the alien with fire and shattering his thick armour, leaving nothing but splatters of blood against the marker stone behind it.

Meanwhile, Corallis had stalked off to the other side of the menhir, keeping low to the ground as though tracking something. He stopped suddenly and rubbed his hand over the loose topsoil. As he looked up, back towards Gabriel and the others, the remaining Warp Spiders sprung into being before him, their death-spinners releasing a tirade of projectile-filaments from close range.

“Corallis!” cried Gabriel, pounding across the summit of the mountain toward the besieged Marine, his boltgun spitting in his hand. Prathios was with him, matching his run stride for stride, strafing his fire back and forth across the backs of the Warp Spiders. Without moving, Isador planted his staff and muttered something inaudible, sending sheets of blue power coruscating through the ground, racing against the storming Marines.

Isador’s bolts seared under the feet of Gabriel and Prathios as they ran, and then exploded into flames as they crashed into the stances of the Warp Spiders. The creatures shimmered slightly, trying to leap back into the webway, but Isador’s energy blast had done something to their warp jump generators. Before they could even turn to face the charging Marines, Gabriel and Prathios were upon them, riddling them with bolter shells.

In the last stride before he reached them, Gabriel cast his bolter aside and drew his chainsword into both hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Prathios dropping his own gun, and swinging the crackling crozius into his fist. Gabriel launched himself at the Warp Spider in the middle, crashing into its back and flattening it against the ground. In one smooth movement, he flourished his chainsword into the air and drove it down through the alien’s spine. The creature twitched momentarily, and then fell still.

A shower of fire speckled his armour as he sprang off the corpse and rounded on the last eldar, seeing that Prathios had already incinerated the other one in an inferno of power discharge from his crozius.

Gabriel brought his sword down swiftly, but the Warp Spider was fast, dancing around his blow and punching a flurry of shots straight into the captain’s chest plate. His chainsword missed its target but hacked into the alien’s weapon, where it stuck, spluttering impotently. As one, Gabriel and the eldar discarded their chewed-up weapons and started to circle one another like animal predators, flexing their shoulders ready for the fight.

A javelin of power flashed over his shoulder from Isador. It seared past Gabriel’s face, punching into the stomach of the eldar and blowing a hole clear through. The alien staggered for a few more steps and then sunk to its knees facing Gabriel-it seemed to be staring at him with the alien eyes hidden behind its elongated helmet. Then Prathios stepped up and swung at the Warp Spider with his hissing crozius, striking it cleanly and knocking the creature’s head crisply off its shoulders as its body slumped to the ground at Gabriel’s feet.

“Corallis?” asked Gabriel urgently. The sergeant was lying on his back in a pool of blood, his armour punctured by numberless holes, and Gabriel knelt swiftly by his side. “Corallis?”