Like Varek had planned, his airborne Doom and Night Scythes had been deployed first, their crescent moon shaped hulls screaming through the skies to take out the bigger guns and any ork air resistance before they could react. Then Ümabar and his host of warriors had materialised out the teleporters mounted to the underside of the Night Scythes, into the thick of the greenskins ranks where their gauss flayers would be the most effective.
Up until this point everything was going to plan, until he realised that the orks had been hiding more than just warriors in the cave to the west, as a fully grown Squiggoth appeared and started charging towards the Necron host at the will of its masters.
Standing over a hundred feet tall, the four legged monstrosity had a thick scaly hide underneath the cobbled together but thick metal plate armour the orks had constructed. Sporting a pair of massive tusks, each the length of small building, and with a crude firing platform from its back where a group of orcs were sending bolts of energy and firing simple project weaponry into the air as a show of power, the great beast was a sight to behold.
Luckily the Canotep Wraiths and Scarabs that had been lying in wait at the mouth of the tunnel took the biggest brunt of the charge. Whilst the swarms of Scarabs rose to the creature’s armour and ate away metal and flesh, the Wraiths would materialise and disappear, darting from one vital organ or gun emplacement to another. Being but machines their unavoidable loss to the great but now weakened creature was a necessary one. However, weakening it only made it more determined to stomp on those causing it pain.
Inevitably the gargantuan creature had reached Ümabar’s host before they had dispatched the armoured convoy, leaving them no choice but to fight on two fronts.
Stomping through the Necron host like they were made of brittle wood, the great creature withstood wave after wave of strafing runs from the Doom Scythes; tesla energy crackling off its armoured hide and gauss weaponry strugging to find a chink in the plates of steel that had been bolted to its carapace. Its own array of weapons were firing volley after volley to try and glace the nimble fighters as they zoomed past but thankfully, an ork’s accuracy wasn’t something to be envious of.
Leaving the majority of his host to deal with their initial target, Ümabar gathered his Lychguard and went to challenge the beast.
Now stood toe to toe with the Squiggoth, Ümabar could see the creature was covered with its own thick black blood as it stood amid a field of orc corpses and damaged Necrons, their nanoscarabs rapidly trying to bring their masters to bear.
Getting the beast’s attention by launching a salvo of green energy cracking through the air towards the creature’s head from his staff, Ümabar signalled for his lychguard, each armed with a might warscythe to spread out around him in a line.
Whilst Ümabar had been – and still was a famed fighter, he also had the wisdom to match his preferred craft, to make him the stuff that Necron Lords were made off. With the creature lining up for a charge against him, Ümabar sent a message to one of the Night Scythes circling in the distance to ready for another staffing run against the Squiggoth’s side.
Leaping into action the creature took off and headed straight for them, standing their ground, the Lychguard offered their scythes up to the beast as though they were spears. Getting closer and closer Ümabar called the Night Scythe into action.
Engaging its engines at full speed, the pilot aimed his craft straight for the Squiggoth’s head. Building up in momentum – past supersonic, the pilot true to his aim, waited until the last possible moment before disappearing into his teleporter as the craft hit maximum velocity – ploughing into the creature in a flash of green.
Knocking the Squiggoth off balance, the swipe of its tusks fell short, allowing the Lychguard to safely move into range of the creature. Dazed and confused, it wasn’t long before their crackling warscythes were biting into the flesh of the beast’s leg joints.
Crying out in anger and pain, eventually its front legs collapsed under its mighty weight, the tar covered Lychguard now safely out of the way.
Changing the grip of his staff, Ümabar levelled it as a throwing spear – the housing for the green energy trapped inside as the tip. Feet moving under him to gain momentum, he aimed the staff at his prey and with a mighty push; he hurled it through the air.
Twirling towards its target, Ümabar tapped into its energy core, green lightning crackling around it as it plunged into the beast’s great eye. Raising his hand in the air, Ümabar unleashed its power.
With green electricity darting from the staff to the creature’s insides, the Squiggoth’s muscles started to convulse, the nerves in its central nervous system being struck. Pinned to the ground and twitching, the beast let out a final roar of defiance before Ümabar clenched his fist and brought his hand back down.
For but a moment the creatures inside could be seen as a green silhouette as its muscles locked up, its roar was cut short and the life disappeared from it, crashing to the ground.