Massacre in the Wailing Woods

Daemons (Gill) vs Empire (Tim) 

Like silent gliding death, the Screamers of Tzeentch glided through the underbrush, tusks glistening, tails flicking lazily from right to left.

And near at hand, as the last rays of sun dropped under the Black Mountains, the daemons of the Pernicious Host ran forward, jaws gnashing, swords and claws hacking the air in anticipation.

All around the spirits of the woods wailed their lamentation of doom. All around the taint of chaos cut into the noble hearts of the Men of New Sylvania.

But they stood proud and stalwart. In rigid gun lines the soldiers of Malko to the south steadied horses or cocked handguns, awaiting the command of their superiors.

When the call came they let fly with bullet and arrow. The wizards called forth and hurled forward fire and ash. The Daemons were cut down as they advanced but did not balk in their assault. They came and they came and they came, uncaring as their comrades fell to the putrid earth in their passing.

The knights charged forward, slamming into the approaching Bloodletters to the flank but Skulltaker, fiend of a thousand worlds, called out their captain. Refusing the refuse the challenge the captain stepped up to battle but Skulltaker had never been defeated in single combat. The captains head vanished in a flicker of unearthly steel and the rest of his knights were cut down with him.

Bearing strange trophies of men whose clothes had ne'er been seen in this land, the Bloodletters surged forward and with them came a cantering fiend of Slaanesh, its tongue flicking obscenely.

A gigantic clanking and steaming Soul Grinder scuttled up to the battle line, filling the gap formed as the last of the Screamers were incinerated in magical fire.

The Men of New Sylvania had deployed cleverly, drawing the Daemons into a bottleneck, but there were simply too many of the unholy fiends.

The ugly naked devil of Slaanesh snipped the cannon crew in twain, even as they tried vainly to target the Daemon lord. The humans were running all too swiftly out of time.

They're entire plan had revolved around a swift assault to follow a blinding fusillade...

But the fusillade had not been enough.

The Daemons closed on the battle line and literally tore the limbs off ever single man. Swordsmen fell. Handgunners fell. The Wizards and Warrior Priests leading them fell.

Soon all that was left of the invading men of the Empire were the stubborn Greatswords. But soon their flashing swords could barely be seen beyond the closely surrounding Daemons.

And then they could be seen no more.