Chaplain Barakiel looked around as he stepped off the Thunderhawk transport. It was as he thought. Prol IX was like every other Hive World he had seen (twelve now). Although on the edge of the Calixis Sector in the Markayn Marches subsector this was still a valuable imperial tithe world and therefore the STC pattern buildings reminded him of all previous Hive Worlds he had been to. Whilst Barakiel often arrived on a planet after it had already suffered the deprivations of combat this world he was seeing unspoilt, or as unspoilt as a Hive World could be in the Imperium of man. Although Prol IX had only recently gained Hive status, 14 standard Terran years ago, and only had one Hive city so far on its largest island, it still boasted a global population of 14 billion, that was growing at 8% a year. This meant continents covered in industrial plants, habs and little free space. All surrounding the pride of Prol IX, Imperiallix Hive. Barakiel would have chuckled at the naming conventions on this world, so stereotypical of a relatively remote hive world such as this, were he still capable of such levity after two centuries in the service of the Emperor. It was veteran sergeant Raphael, trying to regain favour no doubt after the events on Calistra, who had recommended the hardy people of Prol IX as potential recruits for the Dark Angels. It was Barakiel’s job to check the legitimacy of that suggestion. Although it would take a number of years to check, if true, it would offer the Dark Angels an extremely important resource – manpower. Barakiel continued forward and gave the sign of the Aquilla to Raphael. ‘Well met brother, let’s see what you have found me on this planet.’
Bifgrab Ur Dregnaz, Warlord of the Eight Tribes, Krusha of empires of the umies, and ‘eadsmasher of the Goffs, grabbed the weirdboy by the throat. ‘Wot ya meanz we shouldn’t attack that planet you snot? It’z got loadz of umies on an’ loadsa scrap to steal! Wotz wrong wif it?’. Trembling the weirdboy looked up at the huge Warboss and explained ‘Those big umans dat fink dey can wear green better than uz are close. I can smellz them in the warp. Letz go get them instead boss, dey’ll still have scrap… green scrap…’.
Umies wearing green? And the ard ones wif armour? Brilliant! thought Bifgrab. ‘Yeah… Yeah! Letz go smash em den’. With that he threw the Weirdboy against the wall of the bridge of his Battlekroozer so hard that it would be a few hours before the Weirdboy would be able to stand and start enacting his cunning new plan.
What’s all this nonsense then? Narrative Campaign time! So… A short time back I purchased a copy of Planetary Onslaught me and CC Monro decided to stick some scenarios together and play, over the course of a number of months, a short(ish) narrative campaign. We decided early on that the Brave and terrible Orks would be attacking a planet of squishy imperial lackeys hiding behind a bunch of Mork forsaken Dark Angels. Once this was sorted we proceeded to play our first scenario…