The wolves readied themselves for the new onslaught of heretics ready to throw themselves into the wolves' fury. "Spear formation," Tyrfingr commanded, forming the spear tip and immediately being flanked by the bloodclaws that readied their storms heilds for the approaching tide. Within moments his terminator armour and the hunter's shields were bombarded with fire that did little more than heavy rain would do to a regular man. The warcries of the charging heretics were met with roars of their own, which were puncuated by the opening of bolter fire into the charging mass. Tyrfingr only felt pride for his men and for the machine men he now worked with as it was made clear quickly which side's resolve was truly steel. As clouds of phosphor consumed the forces of chaos, the wolven bolter fire turned to those that had managed to avoid the burning material and shred them to ribbons well before they could gather any valuable foothold. "How fares you," Tyfingr asked as he waited in anticipation for the forces to fall upon his claws. "Do you still have the energy for more of your magics, old friend?"

"That I do," cracked the ancient voice of Tyfingr's mentor, who took a moment to focus on unleashing another volley of bolterfire before continuing. "Though I fear it would be best if given some time." Tyrfinger nodded, near imperceptible in his armour, but he had little need for answers now. The runepriest had confidence in his lord's trust of him and trusted him in turn to respect how taxing those mighty winds early were.

Askeladd roared as he swung his claws forward, impaling the first of many to make it past the Magos's artilery and their combined firepower. The cultist squirmed and would have scream had he not been pulled apart across the middle by the wolf's claws. On either side he could hear the sound of cracking armour and pulping flesh under the might of his Blood's shields and hammers. "Lord Tyrfingr," the sharp voice of officer Merrill said into his ears, interrupting the blissful sound of battle. "There is a chapter of space marines that has touched down North of your position in one of the nearby valleys. They belong to the Relictor squadron, a former-"

"I am aware of the heretics," Askeladden interrupted, stepping forward to wildly swing his claws through a pair of men whose blood now painted the front of his armour. "They shall fall like all else on this day."

"Lord Tyrfingr," Merrill implored, being met with a low growl by the Wolf. "Lord Tyrfingr. They come to offer us assistance. They've already helped our men secure several other sectors and have cut off the pass for the one you're in now. Everything is pointing toward their alliances crossing paths with ours."

"Our allegience is to the Emperor, to Russ, and the wolves," he said, his point being punctuated with the scream of a man.

"They're working with the loyalist Mechanicus, allies to the Emperor and the wolves," Merrill added, opting to ignore the information she had begun to acquire about their dealings with one of the latest emperor claimants. The silence of Askeladd's vox channel was enough to make her wonder if something had disrupted communications or if he had terminated the link. Only when she listened as well as she could, could she make out the shallow breathing and heavy footsteps of the Wolf Lord's armour which when compared to most other things was usually deafening.

"I understand. Share their coordinates with us. If they come to relieve us of our burdens it is only right to do the same for them in turn." Askeladden switched his channel to the Magos immediately and continued on with his brothers listening in. "Magos, we shall begin to push forward and make contact with a supporting chapter North of us. Rain fire to those on our sides. We shall cut our path through their middle ourselves."

"Officer Merrill. Inform the Relictors that they are not to die before we have shown them our gratitude."