By Damo
Warboss Grashnul surveyed his boyz, if thirty, seven foot
tall, with muscles that can crush a Space Marine’s skull
with one fist, type of warriors could look depressed and
sheepish, then these Orks were depressed and sheepish.
“Wots der matta den ladz, humies too much fer yer?”
Grashnul roared at his ladz, with a touch of sarcasm in his rough
voice, “A bunch of Grots cudda done it betta. Yer, dats wot
it iz, yous is a bunch of cowerdy Grotz.”
“Oi, Warboss, Dat ent fair, da ladz wuz jus’ supprized,
dat’s all,” Nob Fungu Squigbreth chirped up defence of
his boyz, “when der Grots woodent git up after bein’
kiked. Dey, er, jus’ stopped to chek der choppas was extra
choppy an’ ded killy to show
Beakiez where dey kan stik der Emporer fingy.”
“Wot does yer take me for?” Grashnul bellowed at the
Nob, “I didn’t hatch yesterd’y y’know. If
yous is boyz an’ not Grotz den git ova dis wall an’
kill Beakies.”
With that order, the Orks jumped over the wall blasting away with
their sluggers and started runnig towards the Space Marines, when
they met a wall of bolter fire which knocked a dozen of them off
their feet, but only half got up when kicked.
A few moments later the Orks reached the Space Marine’s
lines, the following close combat was very bloody, but very
quick. Warboss Grashnul waded into the middle of the Space
Marines swinging his ‘Uge Choppa and lopping off heads,
arms, and legs.
When the carnage was over Grashnul stood and surveyed the scene, Space Marines lay dead or dying, boyz were wandering round kicking their mates and killing maimed Space Marines. It was a good result, the Marine Boyz were dead and they had the humie Hive thing and the planet was his.
