A bolt shell tore through one of the steeds legs causing it to topple over
“Wrong way!” Yelled commissar Grant
13 quickly corrected his direction, undeterred by the death of his steed.
The baneblade stopped briefly to fire a shell from its gargantuan cannon, demolishing a second basilisk
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“Uh Oh…” Dwayne pauses
A single shuddering warrior clad in blood red armour began madly sprinting towards Dwayne hurling profanities and something about blood gods, a howling chainsword decorated with grim skulls was clutched tight in his hands
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“IT IS THE BAAAAAAAAAANE BLADE!” Pyotor yelled while he dived for cover. “Comrades! It is our duty to destroy it in the name of the Emperah!”
“Good…eyesight Vostroyan…but how do you propose that we destroy that!?”
Skir Desh looks at the Bane Blade then looks at the mining laser, then looks at the target again. Skir Desh aims the mining laser at the tank,
“If I can get a distraction, I can hurt it.”
8155 looked at their comrades and in a rare display of sarcasm said,
“If only we were in the company of a guardsmen capable of yelling loudly and firing their weapon simultaneously”.
Failing to notice the Sarcasm in 8155’s voice, 13 screamed at the top of their lungs and proceeded to fire (albeit ineffectually) at the Bane Blade.
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The howls managed to startle both the tank crew and it’s posse of astartes
Pyotor throws mud all over himself and begins to sneak towards the threatening tank.
One of the space marines notices the glow of the plasma gun and fires a burst from their bolter
Pyotor rolls to the side and hurls a grenade. “Die, heretic!”
Skir Desh fires the mining laser at the bane blade, the soldier was thinking that if anything might damage that thing, this would help.
The grenade detonated successfully knocking the chaos space marine onto his ruinous rump however a stray fragment of shrapnel from the grenade tore into Pytor’s unarmoured arm
Skir Desh fires the mining laser at the bane blade, the soldier was thinking that if anything might damage that thing, this would help.
The laser begins its arduous task of burning into the tank but a cultist gunner quickly takes note and mans a twin-linked heavy bolter
Skir Desh noticing the movement of the guns and ducks under the cover of the trench, skulking away from that position. The soldier’s next goal was to find a better position to shoot the darn thing again.
OOC: Which arm? The one holding the gun, I presume.