The battlewagon was ripped clean in half by the massive girth of the Warlock's spear.
As the orks crawled out of the rubble they were torn apart by the eldritch shaft.
The nob raised his power claw, ready to strike down the Warlock, but the brutal Eldar kicked a halpess guardian in the way. The claw went straight through the militiaman, in a split second the Nob's head went sailing from his body.
As blood splattered his robes, he watched as guardians tore into the boyz, shuriken exploding green flesh in a shower of gore. This was war, this was murder, and this sated his Warrior's soul.
Just then, the orks launched their counter-attack. Swift flying copters fired their shootas into the guardian horde, the bullets tearing through their flimsy mesh. Panic spread through the guardians and they began to turn tail.
The warlock laughed high into the air as bullets bounced off his psychic mightiness. The kopters were coming back for a second run. With a faceless grin the Warlock's massive shaft howled into the air, skewering the rider into the one behind him, both exploded with a satisfying wail.
He then turned to the scurrying guardians.
"OI YA PUNY GITS" he shouted, his booming voice emboldened with psychic menace. As terrified as the guardians were, they were more scared of the Warlock
"WHO GAVE YA PERMISSION TO DIE??"
>>this is exactly how guardian squads perform on the tabletop