[center][h3][i]Forge Moon Amatheus, Manufactorum Alpha I[/i][/h3][/center]

There was not a foot to be gained without a life taken for it and the Wolves had nearly reached a kilometer when Wolf Lord Askeladd Tyrfingr's vox blared to life. [color=00FFFF]"Lord Askeladden, I have dire reports of our forces,"[/color] communications officer Merrill spoke, continuing without waiting for acknowledgement. [color=00FFFF]"Sector I-z1354 through 57 have held with minimal casualties. We've lost nearly all of our squadrens placed in zones 1360 and 1361. Less than a dozen guardsmen stand at 1360, half that at 1361. We've lost nearly a third of the men we've supplied and I hear losing anymore would leave us severely undermanned."[/color] 

[color=87CEFA]"Acknowledged,"[/color] Askelad responded, ducking under the swipe of a Champion's ax before swiping a set of claws through the heretic's torso, spilling his entrails onto the ground. [color=87CEFA]"They are to stand until there is lack of ground to stand on or foe to stand against,"[/color] he swung both of his claws through a group of cultists firing ineffective weapons, sullying his claws with their blood and the earth with their corpses, [color=87CEFA]"For the fallen, the Emperor, and Russ."[/color] A sudden burst of plasma caught the Wolf Lord off guard, nearing Askeladden before Harald could step in and take the blow onto his storm shield. The krack of bolter fire behind him, followed by the arm of the attacker flying into the air alerting the lord of Eiryk's presence. [color=87CEFA]"Well met,"[/color] he acknowledged, the others echoing back to him.

On hearing the Magos Dominus's call for reinforcements, the wolf lord activated a beacon to alert their pilot that he was in need of an immediate evac. [color=87CEFA]"We are needed elsewhere, wolves. Hold the line until our men have reinforced themselves."[/color] Already he was receiving reports from Merrill updating him on the breach that his wolves had pushed through a kilometer back, verifying that it had been reinforced sufficiently and repaired as well as one can in several hours. Swarms of cultists approached, pelleting their armours with small arms fire. Harald and the other Blood Claw, Mathias formed rank before the Wolf Lord, planting their stormshields at his flanks while Hunter Eiryk and Rune Priest Aesir filed behind the two and fired into the crowds. Those that managed to make it past the bolter fire were met with the slamming of frost ax and thunder hammer, and the rending of claws. Gore showered the shields and their wolf lord and still they held, the bodies beginning to pile at their feet.

The roar of the Thunderhawk's engines slowly crept over the cries of battle and the firing of weapons, though not until its twin lascannons began to tear into the cultists, leaving cauterised holes in bodies large enough for a man to stick their arm through. [color=87CEFA]"Back,"[/color] Askeladd needlessly commanded, the formation already breaking and moving backwards toward the LZ. The Thunderhawk came to a rest before the pack, its bay doors opening while the duo of heavy bolters mounted along the fuselage provided coverfire. They were loaded and en route to the Magos Dominus before the cultists had so much as a chance to recover.

[color=87CEFA]"Wolves en route, Magos Dominus Fekten,"[/color] Askeladden broadcasted, turning to face his brothers. [color=87CEFA]"Things look grim, my brothers. If we should die on this day, then die well brothers. For Russ."[/color]

"For the Emperor," they answered.

"For the fallen," they roared.