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Raid on Bolgrog's World

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Dark Eldar battle Orks on Bolgrog's World

The Raid on Bolgrog's World was a Dark Eldar raid by the Kabal of the Flayed Skull against the Orks of Waaagh! Bolgrog.[1]

Overview

The battle began when the Flayed Skull Archon Vraesque chose an Imperial Hive World with a population of trillions for a raid. However, decades previous, the planet had been ravaged by the Ork Waaagh! Bolgrog. The Orks that survived the battle had since become immune to the poisonous atmosphere of the world, making them perfect slaves for Vraesque's vision.[1]

Bolgrog – being a wily and grizzled old skarboy – had built his fortified lair in the ruins of Hive Cadestin, the greatest of the Imperial cities of old. In the hands of the Orks the hive had become a great, teetering fortress of tumbled wreckage, studded with ramshackle gun emplacements and jagged battlements. A string of huge arched bridges linked this fastness to the rubble-strewn shantytowns that were all that remained of the outhive, each cluster of lean-tos still teeming with Orks, yet far less defensible than the heart of the old hive. It was upon a stretch of the anarchic outhive, therefore, that Vraesque’s blow fell.[Needs Citation]

When the Kabal of the Flayed Skull struck, they did so hard and fast. Bladed warriors in crimson and bone rode their Raiders out of the leprous clouds of a toxin-storm. Many Orks had hunkered down behind barricades and heaps of scrap, hoping to weather the gale-force winds. Now they looked up in surprise as dark, barbed shapes shot low through the murk, spitting volleys of fire into their midst. Amid drumming gunshots and wind-torn explosions, dozens of Kabalite Warriors disembarked from their craft and began to encircle their shocked prey.[1]

The winds and toxic clouds were no impediment to the Dark Eldar, whose elaborate rebreathers and gryostablised armour compensated for the effects of both. Not so the Orks, who were forced to lean into the gale, squinting through blast-goggles and fizzling fog-scopes as they sought their attackers. Dashing forward through the ruins with their blades bared, the Dark Eldar set about themselves with whoops of glee. The Orks fought back furiously, lunging through the toxic clouds to hack apart Commorrites in sprays of blood. Yet the greenskins were at a terrible disadvantage, their belligerence and ferocity no match for the Kabalites’ carefully executed ambush. Streams of crystalline splinters cut the Orks to pieces, or hurled them convulsing to the ground. Incubi stalked from one fight to the next, blades glinting blood-wet in the half-light as they sliced off heads, arms and legs with graceful flourishes of their klaives. For every greenskin butchered, many more were paralyzed or rendered insensible by carefully tailored venoms, snared in crackling electro-nets and hauled aboard waiting Raiders like some bizarre fisherman’s catch. The Kabalites sprinted across tangled streets and flitted through blasted ruins, laying low each surprised band of Orks as they encountered them.[1]

Matters might have continued in this one-sided fashion had not the storm suddenly abated, stripping away the raiding party’s cover. Becoming aware of the battle raging on their city’s outskirts, hundreds more greenskins began to flock toward what sounded to them like a pretty good fight. Ramshackle bikes and buggies roared down the scrap-strewn streets. Mobs of Orks scrambled through the ruins lugging cumbersome heavy weapons while columns of ramshackle tanks crashed through walls and rubble. Meanwhile, in the heart of the city, larger engines bellowed into life.[1]

Vraesque had planned his raid carefully, however. He knew that should his forces be surrounded, they would be swiftly buried by the overwhelming numbers of the foe. Thus as the greenskins surged through the city toward the raiding party, dark specks plunged from the skies above. Screaming low over the Ork mobs, Razorwing Jetfighters and Voidraven Bombers struck at key targets amid the enemy advance. The craft dived from on high, engines screaming like the damned as they strafed the Orks’ weapon batteries. Flakkadakka guns chugged as they pumped streams of shots into the air and swatted several Dark Eldar craft from the skies. Yet the Orks had the worst of it, their batteries detonating one by one as dark beams of energy and shatterfield missiles punched through their armour to smash them to ruin. Voidraven Bombers streaked over the rusted arterial bridgeways, void mines gouging great glowing craters out of the Ork warbands charging across them. One by one the old, rusted roadways shuddered and gave way, collapsing amid the scream of tortured metal and plunging hundreds of Orks to their deaths. Scourges swooped above the advancing greenskins, diving through an ill-aimed storm of fire to strafe their foes again and again. The winged mercenaries struck, retreated, and struck again, gradually luring the aggressive enemies away from the Archon and his warriors. Casualties amongst these diversionary forces were high, yet their efforts pulled ever more greenskins away from the real fight. As the Orks spread thin, Mandrakes flickered through the shadows, snatching stragglers into the darkness. Panic spread in their wake, Orks firing blind into darkened alleys or clustering back to back, unaware that their tormentors had already moved on. Gradually, the onrushing greenskin advance stalled amid chaos and confusion.[1]

Finally, through the madness came Bolgrog himself, riding aboard his towering Stompa Badbasha. Spotting the huge war engine lurching through the city ruins gave even Vraesque pause, yet the sight of the grandiose bosspole that jutted from its shoulders told him the Orks’ leader had joined the fight at last. Vraesque had no use for the Warboss as a captive, but his death – writ large across the battlefield where none could miss it – would surely throw the Orks into confusion. The Archon ordered an immediate withdrawal, hacking a path through the massing greenskins to leap back aboard his Raider. Some of the Kabalites were cut off, overrun by the foe or blasted apart by sizzling energy weapons. Yet the remainder followed their Archon’s lead, their attack craft arrowing up away from the green horde and making for the Stompa. Closing fast on their massive foe, the Dark Eldar craft hurtled around the towering war engine, tearing at it like a furious flock of shrikes.[1]

The Stompa’s guns blazed and roared, filling the sky with a hurricane of fire that sent Razorwings and Raiders tumbling end over end to explode amid the ruins below. At the same time, however, the Dark Eldar guns were cutting the war engine apart. Dark beams of energy stabbed into the behemoth’s hull, boring through armour plates and steam pipes. Explosions tore through the Stompa’s decks as stockpiles of ammo detonated in a thunderous chain. Raging fires filled the engine from top to toe, flaming grots leaping screaming to their deaths from open hatches. Still the Stompa’s guns roared, the Orks on board refusing to accept that Badbasha could possibly be destroyed. But finally – even as Bolgrog dashed for the escape hatch – the Stompa went up with a thunderous boom, the shockwave of its explosion hurling Dark Eldar and Orks alike from their feet.[1]

With their Warboss blown to bits along with his biggest and best weapon, the greenskins lost all cohesion. The Dark Eldar stalked the city for several hours more, preying on isolated knots of the foe. Finally, weighed down with slaves, the Kabalites swept skyward once more. Vraesque’s raid had been a great success; though barely half the raiding party returned to Commorragh alive, they did so in victory. And of course, the Archon’s statue would be completed at last, built upon the broken backs of the Orks of Bolgrog’s World.[1]

Sources