Lord General Militant Egough Van Deer, supreme commander of the campaign for reclamation of the Vernum System from the Orkoid menace, took another panning sweep of the battlefield with his telescope - an ancient relic that the Lord General favoured to this day over more advanced technology - standing upon a crest overlooking the wide expanse of what had once been fields beyond the walls of the planets capital city; they were no longer fields though, mused the short-of-stature strategist inwardly, for now they were criss-crossed by trenches, pockmarked with shell and foxholes, and layered over with the corpses of man and brutal alien alike. 

Yes, he could see the remains of some once great regiments moving into their positions now, the shattered carcasses of already damaged formations that he was about to throw in as the opening gambit to take the city from the mad Warboss Thrakta.

Down on those fields, assembling and forming ranks even as a chill wind blew the stench of death toward them, were a certainly mixed bunch of regiments. Some, such as the 3003rd, were hardened but weakened regiments - tired and weary from years of numbing conflict and now shrunken to a portion of their original strength. 

Others, such as the 8th Tushienia, or the Hirisit 482nd, were almost at their full compliment of soldiers but were as green as ripe fruit! What better way to forge them into soldiers than with a baptism of fire, flinging them into a crucible of flame and gore that would either make them or break them utterly.

They were not alone, of course, for there were two large, gaping, breeches through which these men would pour - reinforced in the first wave by other regiments of similar circumstance as their own, all to be sent against the heavily fortified city and the warren-like maze of buildings within. It would be hard, bloody, street-to-street, building-to-building urban conflict, and the likes of the Cadian 978th, the Brontian 59th and the all-female Xenonian 8th would be entering the breeches with them.

Behind them all was the second wave, a full force of complete regiments complimented by armour, aircraft and artillery, and if those of the first wave had anything to say about them...well, it was far too late to back out now, especially with the Commissars at their backs,

"Major Augustian," questioned the Lord General, his nasal voice grating against the ears of his aide-de-camp, who turned quickly and waved off a perfect salute, "yes, sir?" 

Van Deer put his telescope away, sliding the bronze tube shut with a dismissive wave and a snap, "then order the attack to begin and let us go in search of our lunch, I am [b]famished[/b], gentlemen."

The time was 14:00 hours, the attack was ready, and the order was given.

The Emperor protects.



[Hider=PLEASE READ]

Right, there you go! 

All player regiments are in the first wave, the order to attack has been given, and breeches are open to the left and to the right of the city wall. They are sloping breeches, mounds of rubble, metal and twisted corpses. The weather is cold but the sun is bright in the sky, although it provides no warmth at all.

So, send your men forward; you may do just about anything [i]within reason[/i], and if you are unsure then please ask me. I will say that I don't want peoplke just going "they all got in the wall, they killed some Orks, got to the palace and massacred the Warboss...the end." In essence, godmodding.

I'm trying to make this as much an experience as a narrative, or as much as I can. I've never been in the military, although my entire male family has for two generations, as well as some of the women, but I can imagine how I would feel in such a situation! Just because it's in a fictional setting, with made up weapons and the like, the Guard are still your bog-standard human in a terrifying galaxy after all. It's so easy to write without emotion, without content, something that I know [b]all of you[/b] can provide.

Lastly, as I said before, I'm not looking for a novel, just start writing and let yourself flow...think how you would feel...what you would see...smell...etc, and it becomes a lot easier to write it all down.

Anywho, feel free to get through the breech, even begin some street-fighting if you feel like it, then I'll take us onward.[/hider]