A lot of things happened very abruptly, and none of them were strictly speaking a good thing for the ork. Watching as faction after faction came storming forth from every conceivable position, the shaman found himself awestruck with the whole situation. Watching as more and more figures, wrapped in power armor and freely firing off bolter rounds came storming in, first from behind the two he'd meant to engage and then from a ship that appeared from the warp, only for a huge man to come rushing from behind with the sounds of a tyranid horde following, Urgrugg was stunned. It was as though Gork himself had planned some grand masterpiece of combat to unfold upon this otherwise dull space hulk.

Planting his feet, Urgrugg reached out for the power of the warp. The hole punched into the materium by the warp drive gave him ample supply to draw from. His first instinct was to engage, to throw himself into the midst of glorious combat and feel the glee of carnage and slaughter as he dealt out death and destruction to all that lay before him. With the surge of power he felt, the strength that he knew Mork would grant him if he should throw reason to the wind and fight, the ork would be like a force of nature given sentience among the foolish mortals that filled the room before him. As he reached out with his power to take hold of the veil, that he could rend it asunder to be the start to his rampage, he hesitated.

Something-the ork, as ever, knew not what-made him stop. A tug at the back of his mind stole his attention from his intent, diverting his thoughts from their course of unadulterated devastation. Some small voice spoke out, a calm amidst the whirlwind of his thoughts, and yet deafening with its few words. 'Then what happens?'

The question was, of course, insane. Not the actual question itself, but that it existed within his mind at all. Any other ork would never have that thought cross their mind in the presence of such a great fight to begin with. In fact, nothing would cross their mind at all, save the 'Waaagh!' of their warcry as they rush to engage. Yet, here he was, staying his hand and holding back the floodgates of the energy he could unleash. Urgrugg found himself in this position often, almost frustratingly so, and not once had he simply let the thought pass. Ever since he began having those thought, he did not, could not, simply let them pass.

As his eyes shot sparks that left black trails of charred flesh around the rims of his eyes, as his clothes flew around in a windstorm that didn't exist, the air around him humming with energy, he waited, and watched. His ally, if the magus was that much, was seemingly trying to open a door, but showed no signs of success. The marine in purple armor had jumped to cover, and was currently under fire. The other, the one in the strange armor, appeared to be wounded. Both of them were still alive, though, and that was important. Though why they were there was unknown to him, the sudden appearance of the newest set of power-armored humans was drawing fire away from where Urgrugg intended to go.

Looking around, a smile crept across his face as the shaman found what he sought. Finally ready, he unleashed his power, and it was all too eager to comply. Instead of the great blast of destruction that it had originally been intended to unleash, a powerful spell escaped his lips to fold it to another, though no less awesome feat. With a great cacophony of rending metal and falling debris, an unseen force ripped a massive away a massive sheet of the foot-thick bulkhead Urgrugg had hid behind before. With a grunt of effort, he sent the huge wall flying through the air, throwing extra force behind it so it rammed against the floor, embedding feet into the solid metal, creating a barrier ten feet high and nearly fifteen long between the two marines and the rest of the battle that was going on.

A few of the sisters, seeing it, had tried to rush forward to continue to engage. Four had made the attempt, three had failed, and the fourth's head rolled across the floor, the rest of her crushed under the massive piece of metal. Now cut off from the battle, Urgrugg rushed forward, using his orkish strength to heft the techmarine over his shoulder, running towards the door. Along the way, he yelled for the other marine to follow him, the barrier he had made providing ample cover until one of the factions decided to disengage and flank to either side of it.

As he was running, he felt the last of the warp energy leave him. It had been no small effort to control that much energy, and while his biology enabled him to continue, he knew the toll would be steep. Though, as he ran, the exhaustion he was expecting did not come over him. His body did not feel heavy, nor were his footsteps slow. Usually, by now he'd feel sluggish, and move as though walking through pudding after such a massive expenditure of power. This time was different, though. If anything, he felt lighter, especially on his right...

"Where'z muh Bleedin' arm?!" bellowed the furious ork in his native tongue, looking down at the bleeding stump that only moments before had been his right arm. Looking back, he saw it, or he thought that was it. It was burnt, shriveled, almost like it had been sheared off his shoulder only to be struck by lightning. Stopping, he turned back briefly enough to grab it, then continued forward. He had no idea how he would go about fixing it, or even if he could. In either case, he wasn't leaving something that important behind. Suddenly remembering, he turned back again to pick up the techmarine he'd dropped to pick up the limb, though with considerably more difficulty this time, then continued towards the door.