C. Goto - Dawn of War

By now the eldar seemed to be in disarray, swamped by the awesome firepower of the Blood Ravens that converged on their positions, pummelling them from a distance. But Gabriel was uneasy-the eldar didn’t seem to be engaging. Whenever their positions came under fire, the alien warriors would abandon them and move further back into the city, sucking the Blood Ravens northwards, into the central avenue. Searching the battlefield with his eyes, Gabriel was also concerned to see relatively few eldar corpses.

And then it happened. As the Terminators pursued the gradual retreat up into the wide boulevard, a flurry of Falcon tanks skimmed out of the side streets, strafing the Terminators with lines of shuriken from their catapults and blasting javelins of lance fire into their midst. A tremendous blast of las-fire lashed out of one of the side streets, punching into Dreadnought Trythos as it doused the retreating eldar in flames; the thick pulse of energy virtually vaporised the dreadnought where it stood. Its giant limbs clattered to the ground as its body was utterly shattered by the incredible blast.

Tanthius let out a yell as Trythos collapsed to the ground, and he pounded off in the direction of the blast. As he rounded the street corner, he skidded to an abrupt halt as the huge, crystalline turret of an eldar Fire Prism tank flared with energy before him. He dived for the ground, crashing the immense weight of his Terminator armour into the flagstones as the powerful pulse of energy lanced over his head. He could hear the explosion behind him, and shuddered at the thought of what the Fire Prism had just hit. Climbing back to his feet, Tanthius rolled into the cover of the building on the corner of the street.

Meanwhile, back on the main street, the eldar had been reinforced by a squadron of war walkers that came striding out of cover behind the various statues and monuments that lined the avenue. The Blood Ravens Terminators were now under heavy fire, drawn into a narrow column where their power was compromised.

As Gabriel broke into a run towards the beleaguered vanguard of the battle, one of the Typhoons burst back into the courtyard in front of the gate, and slid to a halt before the captain.

“Captain Angelos, we have found the co-ordinates that you gave us. There is a great statue in the centre of the city, and it is being guarded by a heavily armed group of eldar warriors. They appear to be engaged in some kind of ritual,” reported the pilot breathlessly.

“Very good, pilot,” replied Gabriel. “Thank you.” He turned to Isador. “This battle is a distraction, designed to keep us away from the key while the eldar take it for themselves. The aliens are drawing us into a stalemate in that avenue, to slow us down.”

“I thought that this was too easy, Gabriel. The eldar are cunning indeed,” replied Isador.

“How many aliens are defending that site, pilot?” asked Gabriel, his mind racing with a plan.

“No more than twenty, captain, but they look different from the warriors here,” said the Marine, indicating the forces defending the courtyard and those in the wide avenue up ahead. “Their armour is different, and their weapons are more elaborate.”

“Twenty we can manage,” said Gabriel, clicking his vox channel into life and turning away from the Typhoon. “This is Captain Angelos. Get me a squadron of assault bikes and a Rhino, and get me them now. Matiel? I’m going to need you down here in the courtyard in two minutes.”

“Brother,” said Gabriel, turning back to the pilot of the Typhoon, “I am going to need your vehicle.”

“They are already inside the city, sorcerer. Perhaps, if you really have a plan, now would be a good time to act?” scoffed Bale, his face taught with anger and frustration.

“Yes, my lord. Now is the time to move,” replied Sindri, dismissively, turning away from the Chaos Lord and striding back into the cave, vanishing into the curtain of smoke before Bale even had chance to speak. Instead, the Chaos Lord stomped after him, cursing under his breath.

The sorcerer picked his way through the temporary camp inside the cavern, moving around the fires and the clutches of seated Chaos Marines, whispering into the darkness as he went. His words curdled and swam with the threads of smoke, easing themselves into the clouds that hung from the stalactites in the low ceiling. As each of the Marines breathed in gulps of the damp, smoky air, their lungs were inflated with his intent, and they stirred into motion as though commanded.

By the time Sindri reached the back of the cave, where a narrow tunnel bored down into the rock, the Alpha Legionaries were already arrayed behind him, their weapons braced and their dark eyes gleaming with anticipation. Lord Bale pushed his way through his men, shouldering them aside as he made his way to the front of the group.

“This had better work, sorcerer,” he hissed, pushing Sindri in the back with the pole of his scythe so that the sorcerer stumbled forward into the tunnel. “You first,” he added, bearing his yellow teeth in the faint light.

The tunnel was narrow, only wide enough for one Marine to pass at a time. It had clearly not been built with such huge figures in mind, and the line of Alpha Legionaries grumbled and complained as they stooped and ducked their way deeper into the side of the valley. Sindri removed his high, bladed helmet, stowing it under his arm as he pushed his glowing staff out before him as a torch.

As the passageway plunged down into the cliffs of the valley, bringing the Alpha Legionaries closer to the level of Lloovre Marr, Sindri noticed that the rock walls were becoming moist. In the gentle glow of his staff-light, the rocks began to shimmer and shine, casting dull reflections through the tunnel, making the shadows flicker and dance. The ground underfoot was becoming slick and slippery, as the moisture ran down onto the rocky floor, but the Marines were sure-footed and alert.

Eventually, after the tunnel had dropped another few metres, the rock on the ground gave way to a soft earth. Lord Bale paused for a moment, watching the figure of Sindri stumble and stoop ahead of him. He knelt briefly, pressing his hand onto the ground to feel the new surface, wondering whether they had already passed through the cliff-level and down into the soil-strata of the river-basin itself. The ground was soft and saturated with water; it squelched under his hand like a swamp. He shook his head slightly, disliking the confined space and the prospect of a flooded tunnel if the passageway dropped any lower. This would not be a fitting place for the death of an Alpha Legionary, let alone a Chaos Lord.

“Sorcerer!” he bellowed, his voice bouncing and echoing through the tunnel. “Sorcerer! Where does this tunnel lead? This had better not be some kind of trick,” he said menacingly, realising how vulnerable he was to the powers of the sorcerer in this narrow space, and how useless his scythe would be if it came to combat.

Up ahead, Sindri stopped walking. He stood upright, unfolding from his stooped position, with his back to the Chaos Lord. He did not turn around. “It leads to power and glory, Lord Bale,” he said in a barely audible whisper that seemed not to echo at all. With that, the sorcerer pressed on into the darkness, and Bale, unsatisfied but trapped before a line of impatient Marines, walked awkwardly after him.

After a while, Bale saw Sindri draw to a halt a little way ahead of him. He stood upright and then vanished from view. The Chaos Lord roared his rage into the tunnel, filling it with palpitations of anger as he stormed forward in pursuit of his sorcerer. The cursed sorcerer has tricked me after all, he thought, thrusting his great scythe in front of him and watching its blade glint with thirst. Behind him, he could hear his Marines breaking into a run to follow him-the sound of weapons being readied for firing rattled through the passageway.