TLDR: The Inheritors (Genestealer Cults) have taken a major Yeast Refinery on Syrlene which threatens food supply in a whole system.

B’athlem allowed himself a rare moment of self-satisfaction. It was a rare moment of self. Soon he would be back in the embrace of the Inheritors. The Great Father’s plan had been audacious and B’athlem was singularly honoured that he had been tasked with enacting it. Even hunkered in the corner of this dank munitorum container a grin spread across his face. The plan had gone flawlessly; humanities warriors had been duped completely into their supplies were under threat. The Great Father’s schemes were so much grander than their limited imaginations could conjure. 


Naldexus’ mind roiled despite the strain his hood was taking. The onslaught from these Xenos abominations was both physical and psychic. They swarmed forward in larger numbers than had been anticipated, larger numbers than they were capable of holding in his view. Captain Trevian didn’t seem concerned. He flexed his power gauntlet, barely able to contain his eagerness to tear the multi-limbed creatures apart. He would have his chance. Fifty of those horrors were about to hit their battle line. Naldexus put a hand to his forehead, visions of doom filling his head suddenly. Millions, billions starving only to be saved by a four-armed prophet. He could not let this future yet to happen to become real, but he could not see how this yeast refinery, this vital source of food for a whole system, could be held. 


B’athlem could see the thin red line of desperate defenders between his force and their objective. He unleashed waves of energy propelling the chosen ones forward. Even before they engaged he could see that victory would be theirs. Their destiny unquestionable. Soon this planet of Syrlene XI and its namesake system would be theirs for the reaping. B’athlem sensed a human psyker in the opposing force. He focussed for a moment and then poured every ounce of hatred he felt for humanities weakness into the enemy’s mind. The Purestrains were engaging their quarry now. This would not last long and the Inheritors would secure the next piece of the puzzle.


Their frontline was completely overrun. Naldexus swung his power sword desperately, anger swelling in him. His mind was foggy with it. Each time he reached out with his mind to hit the enemy it came to nothing. A claw penetrated the armour on his left thigh. He swept out with the sword, unclear if he actually contacted the assailant. He was falling, the wound and weight of the attacker overwhelming his balance. The wound went deep and he could feel a warm wetness filling between his leg and armour. “This is lost. Fall back. Fall back”, came Trevian’s breathless command over the vox. Naldexus pushed himself backwards along the ground, only regaining his feet after half a dozen meters. Fallen brothers lay everywhere. He couldn’t catch sight of Tevian in the fray. He began the fall back, screened by two damaged Predators. The doom of earlier had not left him, but it was so much more tangible now. Blood Angels should not be retreating from these inferior Xenos.

Phil and I used the Control the Gate (P.128 of Vigilus Ablaze) mission, but between his forward position and the speed of the Purestrains to engage it was an uphill battle. The map at the top shows the current situation for the campaign. This sets the scene for our games in Hamburg this weekend. I’ve named my main character for that gaming: Naldexus, a Primaris Librarian. His visions give him unique insight as to what’s at risk!

Until next time,