Post by lordnewbury on Aug 9, 2017 7:37:46 GMT -5
Graf-Marshall Torvneski slammed his fist down on the command table, startling one of his untested ‘General Staff Tactical Officers’, little more than a careerist fop from the homeworld as he bellowed something in the native language of Vostroya. ”How can there be more? The second battalion was meant to hold them back at the pass!” he exclaimed, pointing at the map as if to back up his point. ”Whilst we have been holed up in this ruin,” he jabbed his finger at the map, showing their current location - now an Imperial Base nestled in the once great capital of the planet, ”...General Richter has had his Kriegsguard doing what exactly?’’ the Graf-Marshall commanded of his men.
The jumpy advisor, slow at first, replied. ”Grafs-Marshall, General Richter held the trenches on the western flank of the City...urm, of the Base, as ordered by the Warmaster - he then pushed forward to the Greenskin position ahead of him. We have heard nothing since, and out scouts report that the trenches to the west have fallen silent.’’ the advisor stopped talking as Torvneski rounded on him. In his armour, a brazen breastplate adorned with the traditional fur of his homeworld, he was a brute of a man - but his heavyset frame hid a cold a tactical mind beneath.
”Send in the 12th Vostroyan…” he snarled, pushing their corresponding marker out of the city and to the trenches, swiping the Krieg off his map ”...then send Colonel Glienes misfits to scout the Ork position north of the trenches.’’ he added, gesturing for the file on the aforementioned regiment. His eyes narrowed as he read the contents of the file, regiments like this disrupted his ordered way of thinking - mashed together from reinforcing groups or ‘spare’ guard, they lacked uniformity. Mostly infantry, he spotted the name of the Praetorian Penal Legion, the ‘Sailguard’ and the 1062nd Komori, supported well by the surprisingly well equipped Kernohan HEAT Corp.
He spat out a word in Vostroyian, which made one of the native officers smirk, as he tuned to the command table once more. ”Turn the Leviathan.’’ he Commanded, taking his seat as the Leviathan Command Center was moved to face the trenches several kilometers to the West. ”Огонь.’’ he snarled, a look of satifaction crossing his face as the platoon of Basilisks opened up on the position north of the Trenches, performing a sustained artillery barrage ”Halt the barrage when Colonel Gliene gives to command for his group to move out.’’ he added, turning to the next item on his list.
”Colonel Richter, 8th Armaggedon? Send him in….’’
After a few hours, the Company under the Command of Colonel Gliene had moved into position, a well positioned column of various platoons standing idle in one of the reserve trenches, the forward positions held by men outside of the Colonel's Command. Returning salutes as he walked past, Colonel Gliene stopped and headed into the Command Bunker, little more than a dugout at the far end of one of the trenches.
”Send a runner, I want all the platoon leaders here on the double.’’ he snapped, sending one of his men dashing out of the door. ”Let us see what the day brings.’’
OOC - The Western Trench line has fallen, and the Grafs-Marshall has deployed the Vostroyans to hold the position. Colonel Gliene and the rest of the Platoons however have the enviable task of heading over the top and into Ork territory. No Orks have been spotted, and it is safe to assume they have withdrawn following a sustained artillery barrage.
The jumpy advisor, slow at first, replied. ”Grafs-Marshall, General Richter held the trenches on the western flank of the City...urm, of the Base, as ordered by the Warmaster - he then pushed forward to the Greenskin position ahead of him. We have heard nothing since, and out scouts report that the trenches to the west have fallen silent.’’ the advisor stopped talking as Torvneski rounded on him. In his armour, a brazen breastplate adorned with the traditional fur of his homeworld, he was a brute of a man - but his heavyset frame hid a cold a tactical mind beneath.
”Send in the 12th Vostroyan…” he snarled, pushing their corresponding marker out of the city and to the trenches, swiping the Krieg off his map ”...then send Colonel Glienes misfits to scout the Ork position north of the trenches.’’ he added, gesturing for the file on the aforementioned regiment. His eyes narrowed as he read the contents of the file, regiments like this disrupted his ordered way of thinking - mashed together from reinforcing groups or ‘spare’ guard, they lacked uniformity. Mostly infantry, he spotted the name of the Praetorian Penal Legion, the ‘Sailguard’ and the 1062nd Komori, supported well by the surprisingly well equipped Kernohan HEAT Corp.
He spat out a word in Vostroyian, which made one of the native officers smirk, as he tuned to the command table once more. ”Turn the Leviathan.’’ he Commanded, taking his seat as the Leviathan Command Center was moved to face the trenches several kilometers to the West. ”Огонь.’’ he snarled, a look of satifaction crossing his face as the platoon of Basilisks opened up on the position north of the Trenches, performing a sustained artillery barrage ”Halt the barrage when Colonel Gliene gives to command for his group to move out.’’ he added, turning to the next item on his list.
”Colonel Richter, 8th Armaggedon? Send him in….’’
__________
After a few hours, the Company under the Command of Colonel Gliene had moved into position, a well positioned column of various platoons standing idle in one of the reserve trenches, the forward positions held by men outside of the Colonel's Command. Returning salutes as he walked past, Colonel Gliene stopped and headed into the Command Bunker, little more than a dugout at the far end of one of the trenches.
”Send a runner, I want all the platoon leaders here on the double.’’ he snapped, sending one of his men dashing out of the door. ”Let us see what the day brings.’’
OOC - The Western Trench line has fallen, and the Grafs-Marshall has deployed the Vostroyans to hold the position. Colonel Gliene and the rest of the Platoons however have the enviable task of heading over the top and into Ork territory. No Orks have been spotted, and it is safe to assume they have withdrawn following a sustained artillery barrage.