TURN TWO
The Immortal hero tries to radio in some kind of reinforcements as his heroic feat.
"This is Conselia Bunker 69, requesting immediate reinforcme-"
"-Aw fuck"
A voice from the other line cut him off. Feat failed!
"BAHAHAHAHAHAHA, DID YOU SAY 69?! I CAN'T BELIEVE NO ONE ELSE IS LAUGHING!!!"
Meanwhile, this regular uses his action to reattach the barrel of his machinegun.
Meanwhile the rest of the regulars move up to engage the greenskins.
The gunners behind the ANTI-ARMOUR SUPPORT PLATFORMS keep their attention on the clash of the titans, waiting for the Wreks to get in range.
Speaking of, the Dreadknight grapples with the Wreks and finds out its the perfect opportunity for some melee.
Unfortunately the all he manages to do is cut off a horn.
"How dafuq are we supposed to take this thing down?"
The Dreadknight answers by firing off his heavy chaingun.
But he wasn't aiming for the Wreks. Grimjaw just barely soaks up the damage, the gunfire sending him reeling backward.
"GAAACCCKKKHHH, YA SUPPOSED TO FITE THE WREKS, NAWT ME!"
After their movement phase, the regulars open fire. Managing to down not just one Brootal
But two Brootalz.
The rest of them open fire on the Wreks, but Deflection saves it once again.
The mortar crew meanwhile loads up another payload.
They successfully launch the explosive, waiting for it to strike their acquired target
at the start of the next turn.
This Support Platform sees its target is just barely out of range and decides to try something a little drastic. He charges up...
"Oh balls."
The Platform overheats! He'll have to wait till next turn to try again.
On the more Brootal side of things, the papery portal sinks into the ground and vanishes.
The Brootalz pay it no mind, as this particular group tries to charge at the Immortal frontlines. Their rolls are pretty decent as they are now easily more within range.
Everyone else on this side moves up too.
Response fire from a lone Regular make short work of a Brootal.
Shortly after he is mowed down by multiple sources of return fire.
A Brootal BigBoy tries his luck against the Dreadknight, but his petty gunfire doesn't even scratch the Immortal unit's paintjob.
"HOLD STILL, WILL YA?!"
The Brootalz on the other side move up and fire on the Immortal defenders.
They completely miss every last shot.
Except for this one. Even a Brootal can't miss his target when its down a straight narrow passageway.
Response fire from a hidden Regular just barely misses the lucky Brootal's face.
This bigboy grasps the wreckage of a Brootal bike and glares at it angrily.
"OI, WHO PUT THIS TRASH IN MY WAY?"
"MOOOOVE!"
The Brootal pushes the debris out of his way. Whether it was intentional or not, he manages to pin an Immortal regular under it as well.
"They don't pay us enough for this..."
A Brootal gunner decides its getting to cramped on his side of the battlefield and decides to join another. He approaches the underside of the Wreks to do so. His buddies behind him shout and tell him it's not a very good idea.
"HEY! IT'S BAD LUCK TO WALK UNDER A WREKS, DIDN'' YA KNOW DAT?"
"FORGET GONK, HE WAS ALWAYS A MORON ANYHOW!"
Grimjaw rises from the seat on his steed.
"YA KNOW WUT, I'M GETTIN' REEEEL TIRED OF THIS SHER-ADE."
"IF I WANT SUMFING DONE RITE, I'LL HAV TO DO THE DOING MYSELF!"
Grimjaw attempts a heroic feat, lifting his gigantic frame off the Wreks and aiming to land either on or behind the Dreadknight.
He does neither of those two things.
He crashes onto the Wrek's head and slides collapses to the ground, disrupted. Feat failed!
"Stoopid BlackRock and their stoopid lizardzz..."
RIderless now, jumps away from the Dreadknight and sizes up its prey.
Thanks to the gallons of Brewtal Coffee it had consumed and the addition of Brootal-grade technical add-ons, the Wreks's motives stay very much the same.
'Gonk' manages to bail out of the way of the Wreks as it jumps backward, much to the surprise of his mates.
Another random Brootal however is completely flattened.
Turn 2 Reinforcements have arrived!
The ground shakes and rumbles, announcing the presence of a Broozer tank just seconds before it appears on the battlefield.
It's bellow is deep and gutteral, like the cries of a thousand death metal vocalists.
The roar summons a mighty Brootal horde.
Over 36 grunts and a squad of 4 BombRodders.
But the Immortals are not about to be outclassed by a bunch of orks. Their own reinforcements have arrived.
Terrorkhans!
An Immortal dropship hovers in, carrying with it the finishing touches on an anti-Brootal Defense.
CRAAASSHHH!
It's an Augmented Spider Tank!
With twin missile pods.
And a heavy caliber boomstick to match.
Ready to make short work of the intrusive Brootal menace once and for all.
Both sides seem to be in this for the long game.
~END TURN 2~
Send in them turn 3 orders, boyz!
