Siege of Vraks - Riding the Lightning: As the 468th regiment’s attacking companies were seizing their objectives so the darkening storm broke, shattering the skies with flashes of lightning and rolling peals of thunder. The dark sulphurous clouds deluged the battlefield in a blinding monsoon that quickly turned the planet's volcanic dust into sticky grey mud. As the short but violent storm lashed down, the Dreadclaw assault pods and larger landing craft from the Anarchy’s Heart, now in orbit high above, plunged down onto Vraks.The launch bays of the Chaos Battleships unleashed their terrible cargo and the gunners turned their weapons upon Vraks below. In trenches and dug-outs across the Van Meersland Wastes, the guardsmen felt the awesome power of the battleship’s guns. The orbital bombard that presaged the arrival of the assault force exploded with an earthshaking roar on the already tortured landscape. The air crackled and fizzed with the impact of lance batteries, in places scorching the rock to black glass with the intensity of their heat. Macro-cannon shells tore great holes in the planet’s surface, the splintering crash of each round rending the rocks and leaving a thick layer of cordite and dust. The siege regiments had no response to the firepower raining on them from above. No counter-battery fire could suppress this enemy. Trenches were destroyed in single hits, heavy artillery guns were flipped like a child’s toy, left smashed beyond repair. Krieg guardsmen scurried for cover as the tempest landed upon them.Captain Fodor watched the bombardment from his captured, half- ruined bunker, his wounded hand stuffed inside his greatcoat, leaking a red stain across his chest. He saw a great yellow streak of flame race across the stormy sky as a huge shell tore through the atmosphere and streaked earthwards. The distant explosion raised a towering mushroom cloud before the reverberating crash of its detonation reached him. All around fire was falling from the skies. His own trench line at the base of Mortuary Ridge took a direct hit and he felt the shock wave buffet the bunker like an earthquake as it rolled over him.More lightning split the skies as the drop pods fell, each trailing a fiery comet's tail as it burned into the atmosphere, thrusters driving each towards its target. The sky was full of falling assault pods, plunging through the rainstorm, riding the lightning down onto Vraks. The Chaos forces crashed down onto the planet, each pod springing open to release a horde of baying, bloodthirsty, blasphemous servants of the dark gods.The orbital bombardment ceased as the assault forces landed. Most had aimed their attack at the frontlines around the inner defence lines. Bands of Khorne Berserkers from the Skulltakers, World Eaters and Berserkers of Skallathrax now roamed the trench lines, attacking with divinely inspired fury wherever they encountered the enemy. This was no frontal assault across no-man’s land and the Krieg defences were not prepared for such a sudden attack. They had very little in the way of anti¬aircraft defences, and each regiment’s main strength was at the front. Suddenly artillery positions were being overrun and important supply trenches were lost to the enemy. Command dug-outs were attacked and turned into gore-filled carnal houses by the blazing bolt pistols and chain axes of Khorne’s psychopathic warriors. Chaos and confusion reigned, just as the Lord of Slaughter willed it. The set piece battles of their carefully organised trench warfare could not help the Krieg guardsmen who found themselves suddenly beset from all sides. Reports of attacks were coming in from distant sectors, long thought to be beyond the enemy’s reach.At Fort C-585 Captain Fodor and his men were suddenly attacked by the crimson armoured traitors of a Skulltakers warband. Each was an enraged, unholy killer with an insatiable lust for blood. The Chaos Space Marines raced from their assault pods and were soon clearing the trenches in savage close combat, piling the bodies of the slain Krieg guardsmen as they advanced. It was a desperate close combat, but the Krieg guardsmen stood little chance. Their opponents were no longer the weak flesh and breakable will of mere men, but Space Marines driven by the power of their insane gods. They were unstoppable, tearing Krieg squads apart in a welter of slaughter. Captain Fodor attempted to rally his troops, but many were already falling back across no-man’s land. He saw the Macharius heavy tank firing its heavy bolters as the Traitor legionnaires climbed up its sides and onto the turret. The hatches were torn open and the crew were dragged out screaming. One massive Khornate champion lifted the tank commander clear from the turret, dangling the commander’s struggling body by a single hand. It inspected the feeble mortal before a slash of his blood- soaked chain axe decapitated him. The body was thrown aside, blood running in rivulets from the corpse. The champion roared his triumph to the skies then jumped from the turret in a single mighty power-armoured leap and raced on in search of his next victim.All around him Fodor’s men were shooting from the battle-scarred bunker’s remaining firing slits. Now it was the Captain’s turn to grimly defend the bunker as the enemy closed in. The first Traitor Space Marine to leap into the breach was annihilated by a meltagun blast at point-blank range that turned it and its armour into a charred and smoking slag pile but more soon followed. Fodor's men dived for cover as a grenade detonated inside, the ringing blast stunning them. Another grenade exploded, then another, filling the bunker with blinding smoke. Through the smoke the enemy charged, axes held high, their spinning blades spraying blood. With his uninjured hand Fodor drew his sword and lunged at the first enemy. His thrust was parried aside, the enemy’s sweeping chainaxe shattering his blade. The traitor battered him aside, dipping his shoulder and barging into the Captain, sending him dazed and sprawling across the floor. The enemy followed their leader in and soon the bunker was overrun. The corpses of the defenders lay torn and shredded, their severed heads gathered into a gore-soaked pile. The floor was slick with blood which dripped from the walls. Dazed and wounded, Fodor crawled through the gore in search of an exit, but was suddenly plucked from the ground by a powerful grip. Barely conscious he was lifted from his feet, dangling limply he saw the steaming face grill of a red armoured helmet, a baleful light glowing behind its visor. The helmet was blood splattered and bore the engravings of many unholy runes. The power armoured grip tightened around his neck and he began to choke as the Traitor Marine’s chain axe spluttered into life. One swift blow added the Captain’s head to the gathering pile.The attack of the Skulltakers saw the 468th Regiment thrown back down Mortuary Ridge. The sudden planetary landing had swept them aside and restored the front lines.