[i][/i][color=fff200][h2][centre] Brother Von Palus
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[color=aba000][h3][centre] Imperial siege lines
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Von Palus saw the battle as beginning to turn against even them, the hoard had them hundreds to one and even as the far off figure of a mighty dreadnought, bright yellow painted hull lit by flash of artillery hosing down its section of the line, Thousands of rounds a minute and even its reserves would run out if the assault kept up as barrels shined out red in smoke from heat. 

5 turned into 10, soon hundreds flooding past the broken wire. They trusted the Sgt with there lives but the situation was beginning to lose control, Deathkorps falling back behind there positions and enemies tested the marines flanks. His armour was holding but as every minor blow added up warning runes began to slowly flicker to life about minor damage. The armours spirit was formidable but even that could be worn away like a stream cutting into stone. The White Scar fell to his knee, clearing himself of some mortal, the blood and bodies carpeting the trenches. 

Taking advantage of his brothers lower stance, Von Palus emptied a magazine of bolt pistol fire at a group, mass reactive rounds making a heavy mark on the group trying to take advantage of the marines lower stance further back down the trenches. on the Internal secure vox.

[i][color=fff200]  Sir, At current. ammo dry in 5-10 minutes [/color][/i]

Reloading and taking the head off a man who had half his face a mass of scar tissue from some cult branding or dark ceremony with a single blow shattering a crude trench club but among the new hoard came a new threat. A hiss and blast of scorching heat staggering even the marines strength, runes warning of damage, heat burning through the thick ceramite plating searing the skin below. Plasma could harm even the imposing and advanced Mk10 armour. 

Grunting from the Plasma hit, the Stoic Imperial fist was determined not let his injury be seen by the enemy. 

Grabbing a broken trench support from trying to get balance back and casting it like a spear through the offending man's chest, improvised, crude but effective enough. Fighting off the pain, stims kicking in, driving Von Palus back up grabbing the pistol and sending a badly aimed but impacting shot into a flamer operator's arm igniting the entire fuel supply with a bright flash 10 or so metres away. 

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[@Ollumhammersong][@Jbcool][@Apollosarcher][@Bluetommy]