The Orks were so predictable. Give them a target and they’ll barrel headlong to destroy it. Trazat’s force was that target. His scrying had shown the importance of a point in time and a point in space. The time was now. The space was, well, somewhere else. He was here to ensure the Orks weren’t ’somewhere else’.
He trickled his force to the rampaging greenskins, ensuring their attention… or what passed as attention for those savages… was maintained. His Deathmarks phased in, their shots felling a group of gun toting Orks. His Skorpekh Destroyers offered little resistance on the right. He’d ordered them a little too far forward… this was by design. He wanted the war lust of the Orks to reach savage heights.
The greenskins surged mindlessly forward, their Warboss at the fore. Following the Destroyers they hurtled into Trazat’s own bodyguard unit. He had banked on their heedless onslaught, but even this was more than he anticipated. His warriors were town asunder before him… the Ork Warboss carving a path towards him! His chromomantic manipulations were having little effect on the efficacy of the Ork savagery. He fled, hoping the big Ork’s attention would fall elsewhere. Thankfully it did.
Trazat turned to surveil the battlefield. The Orks were few in number now, but they had swept the field. This action had taken scant minutes, but he knew that the time and resources spent here were part of a longer game… a game a mortal mind could never hope to comprehend.
Until next time,
Owen