Uzblitz Gogbusta tracked the first of the mega-bombz as it fell. It impacted somewhere to the east. There was a flash that whited out everything for a second. When his stinging retinas recovered enough to see again he beheld a great wall of fire, all-consuming, rushing across the ground towards him.
Uzblitz pushed himself up to his feet, ready to greet the approaching inferno. Nasha the squig huddled behind his leg and whined.
The wave approached, and broke, as if over a giant invisible dome. The flames split, rushed over and around him. The air twisted and sparked. A short distance away the Kustom Force Field generator started to glow red hot and wailed like an animal in pain. But it held.
The flames subsided and as they did a second wave arrived, this one invisible but no less deadly. To other creatures, at least – to the Mushrum Kloudz’ mutated radiotrophic biology the burst of radiation hit like a refreshing spring breeze. Uzblitz gasped as his cells were flushed with rejuvenating energy. He felt his wounds start to knit together.
All around other Orks were starting to push their way up out of the rubble, similarly invigorated, their green skin aglow with fresh vitality.
Tok rushed over. “Boss! Boss! How did you know da shield was ready, boss?”
Uzblitz ignored him. Another Bomb hit, slightly further away. And another. The holocaust started to march its way out across the face of the planet as far above the Gargantic began its apocalyptic spiral orbit, dropping bombz as it went. The Meks rushed to tend to the protesting force field as wave after wave of nuclear fire broke against it. Eventually it gave out, but by that point the detonations were far enough away that they posed no real danger to the hardy Orks.
A circle of untouched ground a few hundred meters in diameter surrounded them. Beyond that the earth was scorched and blackened. Closer to the impact point any standing structure had simply been atomised. Further out the shattered remnants of buildings and trees were smouldering husks. The once-blue sky was stained a sickly yellow. Uzblitz strode forwards and beheld the new world he had created. It was breathtaking.
Flakes of ash began to drift down like snow. Nasha rushed about happily, trying to catch them on its tongue.
The sounds of explosions were becoming gradually less deafening as the impacts moved further away. Abruptly they ceased altogether. The regular booming beat was silenced.
“Boss!” Tok rushed over again, an oversized Vox unit clamped to one side of his head. “Da ship sez dey’re under attack! Looks like Pointy-ears ships! Two of ’em! Dey’re fightin’ back, but dey say dere’s landin’ craft heading down to da surface!”
Uzblitz nodded thoughtfully. As freshly rejuvenated as the warband was, they had still sustained casualties and were below fighting strength. Fighting off two voidships’ worth of Eldar might be a bit of a tall order.
“Tell dem to get on da comms.” He said. “See if Kaptin Dimz is still around and try to get Krakkjaw on da line an’ all. Invite dem to a little housewarmin’ party we’re throwin’…”
This was a 3000 point-a-side 3 v 2 game, Orks vs Aeldari, playing the At Any Price mission. While our ‘Voidbound’ Crusade campaign has now come to a close a group of us headed off for a nerds’ weekend in Nottingham to play a special post-campaign event at Warhammer World.
Uzblitz flicked a spray of Aeldari gore from the blade of his Rokkit Choppa. The last of the Dark Reapers was dead.
“Orlright ‘Ed, do da fing! Get uz outta ‘ere!”
He glanced around. Big ‘Ed the Weirdboy was nowhere to be seen. He did see Eldar though, approaching from all directions both on foot and by jetbike. Streams of razer-edged shurikans flew in from all directions, slicing through green flesh and mowing down boyz.
“‘E’s over dere, boss!” Tok yelled down from his perch on Uzblitz’s boss-pole. “An’ over dere. And dats a bit of ‘im on your shoe. Fink ‘e blowed up, boss!”
“Den we fight our way outta-“
His words, along with all other noise of the battlefield, were drowned out by a piercing shriek. It struck the Orks with more force than the hail of shurikans they were already enduring. Then suddenly the Howling Banshees were amongst them, moving with the grace of dancers, their blades leaving arcing trails of Ork blood as they flowed amongst and through the greenskins.
Uzblitz raised his weapon to strike, but instead felt it slip from his fingers, his grip suddenly weak. There was a sensation that he recognised and looking down he saw the shaft of an ornate spear protruding from the centre of his chest. There goes another heart, he thought.
Jain Zar pulled back the Zhai Morenn.
Uzblitz Gogbusta, Warboss of Da Mushrum Kloudz, fell face-first into the radioactive dust of the paradise he had made.
Result: Tie, 18-18
Ash falls, coating the fallen bodies of Ork and Aeldari alike and carrying with it deadly radioactive fallout. The survivors do not stay any longer than they need to to extract spirit stones or teef from the dead. To linger would invite their own demise.
Now, the battlefield is silent. This land, fit only for the dead.
But falling with the ash come tiny microscopic spores, spawned from a hundred dying Orks. They land and settle down into the irradiated soil.
And eventually, on the spot where a great Warboss once fell, a tiny mushroom, glowing an unnatural green, forces its way up to the surface.
The End
And yet…
Down.
Down, deep in the earth far, far below the battlefield and the newly-created nuclear desert around it. Here it is dark. Here it is silent.
It is also almost entirely still – the one exception being a small smattering of dust, dislodged by an aftershock of one of the detonations above, falling from the ceiling of this great vaulted chamber.
A faint light appears, a purple ghostlight glow. It is the first light this place has seen since before the dawn of mankind. It strengthens, spreads, following channels carved into the Noctlith walls, tracing eldritch runes no living being can read.
Somewhere in the depths of the vast tomb complex, something begins to stir.
Victory Pointless 
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