Turn the First
The accursed lackies of the Corpse God had detected the planetfall of the war-host. They had come swarming out of their barracks, forts and citadels.; The Imperial Air cohort screamed into the skies. They were like an angry nest of wasps, but thankfully their augurs had only detected that Lord Pocktrosio had landed, rather than specific coordinates of the drop-site.
'The Favour of the Dark Gods is partially with us at least' muttered the Dark and Relatively Still Sexy Lord of Darkness, Pocktrosius.
His insane, and often amazing, musings were interrupted by Champion Svordsin approaching. Crunch crunch crunch went his boots.
'You intterupt my insane, and often amazing musings Champion, what news do you bring' demanded Pocktrosius.
'The Obliterators have detected a platoon of Guardsmen approaching' whispered Svordsin, for he never used his outside voice.
'Pah, mortals, we shall crush them and place their, hopefully, still lukewarm hearts upon the Altar of the Eight' roared Pocktrosius, who loved his outside voice.
'My Lord, the mortals have many heavy weapons, and gunship support. They will probably destroy as, we're pretty new at this sort of thing' pouted Svordsin, who did not others using their outside voice on him.
'Pah, the Dark Gods will shield us from their pathetic attempts to dislodge us from these seemingly arbitrary objective sites!'
And so battle was joined.
Chaos Champion Svordsin, wise and making everyone think 'Why the hell isn't this guy in charge, he isn't stupid as bricks!?', knew that their best attempt to keep the Imperials at bay was to set up a wall of fire from the mid-way ruins. Knowing his plan, and without consulting the rest of the task-force to let them know because a chain of command isn't really that prominent in Darkness excursions yet, he set off to occupy the ruins.
Chaos Lord Pocktrosius, the maddeningly handsome and powerful lord that he is, set straight off towards the nearest company of Guardsmen.
Skull Champion Skull, the most inventively named member of the strikeforce, did what beserkers usually do. Straight up the middle with plenty of chainblades!
The Obliterators and Helbrute however, lacked the tactical nous/intelligence to really know what to do so just pottered around discussing how best to re-decorate their armours to display their first defeat.
Also the Obliterators sneezed and accidentally fired several plasma cannon rounds into the Guard missile teams, killing 3 of them. Too often does the Will of the Eight make itself known through involuntary spasms though Pocktrosius.
What happened next is rather unsurprising, the Guardsman commander was clearly a cheating veteran or something. He sends out a Banewolf on a rule that lets it melt an Obliterator far too quickly. The Helbrute, having just exchanged BFF lockets with the Oblitetors, went mad and punched the Banewolf so hard it exploded in a gratifying manner.
Meanwhile the missile teams had acquired targets, and supported by the lasguns of a thousand enemy guardsmen, fired. Many Beserkers were caught in the open and scythed down. Khorne was happy, I suppose. At least somebody was.
Svordsin and his squad were unharmed, as their armour and cover shrugged off most of the lasfire.
Turn the Second
Once more, indecision and tactical genius collided. Svordsin remained in cover, and blasted some Guardsmen apart with bolter fire. Skull charged again, but the Warband slaves had failed to tie the laces on the power boots of his beserkers properly. Thus every single one fell over after running a short distance, and were blasted repeatedly with a rain of krak missiles.
Clearly having a dust allergy, the Obliterators once again coughed a volley of plasma into the weapon teams, shredding yet more mortal souls asunder.
Turn the Third
Now here's where it got really bad. Pocktrosius, the ultimate boss he is, runs at a squad of about 25 guardsmen with plasma guns and gets badly injured. Cackling his annoyance to the annoying Gods he served he activates a teleport homer hung from his utility belt.
With a resounding boom Terminator Assault Squad Merderkell arrives dramatically on the battlefield. On the other side of it be precise. Cursing once more, Pocktrosius fiddles with the homer once more and is beamed back aboard his warship in orbit.
The Guardsmen that nearly slew Pocktrosius then fire upon the remaining Obliterators, and somehow the lasguns fell both of them. BFF lockets fell to the dusty ground, making a figurative statement of the love shared between Obliterators and Helbrutes.
Meanwhile Skull contains to advance his poorly shoelaced Beserkers into a hail of krak missiles, and is himself slain by a missile to the face. Svordsin accounts for a few more Guardsmen, to no casualties on his own.
Turn the Fith
And now the slaughter beings.
The Helbrute is enraged at the death of his Obliterator pals and so charges around the ruins to get at the Guardsmen. Who shoot a single plasma bolt into his side armour, which causes Helbrute to catastrophically explode. These guys are unnaturally talented marksmen it seems, ponders Svordsin from across the field.
Skull's remaining beserkers are flailing upon the ground, clawing at their power boots ineffectually. They fail to see the looming shape of a Valkyrie Vendetta as it drops a squad of melta-toting Guardsmen. They proceed to melt the remaining beserkers. Oy.
The Terminators, who should have cleaved through the command element of the Guard forces is hilarious gunned down by lasfire while they wait for the next turn to assault. Yes, gogo 2+ saves. You rock.
And such is this war-host crushed by mortals. All but two terminators, Pocktrosius and Svordsin and his squad remain. They will likely return to this world, to get more lackeys and beserkers killed in the future.
End result - Guard has all but one objective. Good game.