The Lachesian War is Over

If you're going to create your own sector of Imperial space to situate your games of Warhammer 40K (and in 2020 we did), it follows that you would want to fight some one-off battles in it, as well as short campaigns, and some all-out wars. Following on from the Word Bearers' raid on the Lachesis system (which we played through in 2022 and wrote up on Goonhammer), everyone's favourite Chaos-worshipping gits finally invaded the system in July of 2024, when we added a persistent warzone. We then caught up with happenings in that warzone in October. This last January, the war ended over one final weekend of butchery. Today's post consolidates all 18 months of the campaign's narrative, followed by my reflections on how well the campaign structure worked.

An Overview of the Lachesian War

The extract below is the first chapter of The Lachesian War: its Causes, Occurrences and Consequences by Diokles Adrastos, Chief Librarian of the Cobalt Scions.

Before I embark upon a detailed accounting of the events, victories, and laments of the Lachesian War, it seems useful to provide an overview of the conflict. As much as individual events all have a deep personal significance for those involved, this summary should help readers discern which battles had the greatest strategic significance. This history will strive to be as complete a record as can be assembled, not least of which because some of the greatest acts of heroism were conducted in battles with minimal strategic impact. Historitors might not care why Lt Dessica Lorthan hid a family of five inside the wreck of a Leman Russ after they were trapped behind the lines in the Miduman Manufactoria. The historitors might not care that Lorthan shut the Harnak family in the wreck and single-handedly fended off a mob of cultists before escorting them to safety, or that she succumbed to her wounds two painful days later. But the Harnaks most certainly care, and frankly, I am moved by such tales. So included they shall be. But to start this book, an overview is how I must begin, impersonal though it may be.

The War's Origins

History cannot be studied without context, but while one might desire to journey back to the start of recorded history to explain the merest happening, there are two events that provide essential context for the Lachesian War.

The first event is ancient history: the XVII Legion, known as the Word Bearers, proved their spiritual paucity by welcoming the infernal powers into their hearts. Just as the dark gods made tools of them, I believe they made tools of the arch traitor Horus. In so doing they cursed the Imperium and its Emperor to ten thousand years of endless struggle. They are, squarely, the very worst scum.

The second event is more recent, local, and immediate. They conducted a raid on the Lachesis system a few short years ago. This raid was foreseen by a young Lexicanium named Tolemias, and our Chapter Master, Drusus, was wise enough to believe him. When the traitors arrived, I am sure they were disappointed to find us waiting for them. In time, we learned their objective. They were intent upon slaughtering the planet's psykers to ignite a warp beacon for a larger invasion fleet. While they succeeded in destroying Lachesis Prime's three psyker prison-towers, we saved the psykers, and the enemy was forced to retreat in disgrace.

Optimists suggested that this might discourage the planned invasion, but Tolemias' prognostications only continued to worsen. Inclined to trust my younger brother, I urged our Chapter Master to prepare for all-out war.

I found I was exhilarated by the prospect. We knew our most hated enemy was coming, and it seemed we had bought ourselves time enough to mete out true suffering to them upon arrival. The more we dug in, the more we built, the better the augurs became. We felt victory was assured, but it must always be remembered that while augurs might tell of victory, they are not always specific on the price that must be paid.

The First Skirmishes

Thanks to the failure of the raid, the enemy's fleet arrived piecemeal and from multiple points. Unable to launch a coordinated invasion, the traitors settled for landing whatever was available, whenever it arrived. Thousands of screeching cultists and even some of their Astartes units made planetfall and threw themselves upon us, I suspect imagining they would be met by regular planetary defence forces. It is rare, after all, for Astartes to linger in a place. But linger we did, and so the Word Bearers found themselves facing layered conventional defences bolstered by a mobile reserve of our own Astartes units. Galling as it was to see the traitors set foot upon the planet once more, we took grim satisfaction in their losses.

(Charlie: In other words, the early games went really well for the Imperium, and this is my rationalisation of why.)

The enemy fleet's gradual arrival also enabled reinforcements of our own to make a difference. A flotilla from Battlefleet Achernar made the long jump from the neighbouring sector, and made good use of their nova cannons in fending off advancing traitor vessels, further slowing the rate at which the Word Bearers could land reinforcements. In their desperation, it seems they entered into pacts with other traitor forces. Night Lords and Red Corsairs began picking at our lines, and the escalation prompted us to call for reinforcements of our own, with various regiments of the Imperial Guard being brought in-system alongside the heroic (if taciturn) Raven Guard.

Naval Betrayal

One always expects to pay a price when engaging enemy Astartes, and this was still holding true, but thus far our losses had been acceptable. Lachesis Prime's population felt protected. This was the Imperium functioning as it should, I thought. All the resources we give to our interstellar war machine was showing its worth by the lives being saved.

But with interstellar wars, battles might be won by infantry, but the war is ultimately fought with navies; we are all of us the subjects of greater guns moving through the firmament. The flotilla from Battlefleet Achernar had done us much good, and thought to capitalise on their successes when they brought the Word Bearers carrier Mortis Lux to battle. But at the moment of Commodore Drennik's triumph, the Achernari cruiser Pride of Machadon and its escorting frigates turned their guns upon their sister ships, crippling the cruiser Triumph and destroying the bridge of the carrier Intemperance, killing Drennik and leaving the Battlefleet Achernar flotilla in complete disarray. Prior to cutting all communications with the Navy vessels, the Pride of Machadon sent a single transmission on all vox frequencies: "Hydra Dominatus."

The loss of the Achernari flotilla shifted the balance of the naval war so profoundly that the Word Bearers' fleet could finally converge on Lachesis Prime, opening the door to a series of losses that still haunt me.

The Tragedy of Thadaka City

Sometimes referred to as the Green Maze, Lachesis Prime's second city of Thadaka is at the southernmost edge of Kulunu Province, spread along the tropical coastline. Torrential rains mean that people were only permitted to pave over 50% of the surface, since soil absorption is needed to prevent flooding. This resulted in buildings interspersed with plentiful lush greenery in a manner I have rarely seen. The buildings themselves left something to be desired, but I admire any city that has its own character, and a vibrance so often crushed by the demands of industry.

Following the naval mutiny, there was little we could do to prevent the Word Bearers cruiser Khairon's Eye entering geostationary orbit above the city. The vessel's superstructure is unique, its spine interrupted by a vast iron octed. Its arcane significance was soon revealed when the veil keeping the warp at bay thinned at impossible speed.

I have spoken to some of my brothers who were present at the time. They described the tropical air thickening, the wind stilling, and a haze coalescing. Thunder and red lightning from above tore reality open below, like wounds reopening on a scurvy-ridden body. Daemons poured forth. The city, so well-protected by our efforts hitherto, was now subjected to thoughtless massacre at the hands of thirsting neverborn. No theoretical offered solution, and the only practical was retreat. But the city had already been surrounded by the enemy's forces, and our impregnable defences now became a cage.

I have seen no coherent estimate of the civilian casualties suffered that day. I am told many people chose to swim out to sea and drown rather than face death at the hands of the enemy.

(Charlie: It should be noted that both times the Imperial players faced Khorneate daemons, they received an absolute mauling, which honestly pleased me as it felt like things had been going too well for us.)

With the void war having turned in the enemy's favour, they immediately took the opportunity to land the full might of their forces on Lachesis Prime. What had begun as a well-prepared rebuke now turned into a war we could lose. Thadaka's fate and the enemy's numbers saw a gloom descend on the faces in our strategiums, while the enemy, so jubilant at the change in their fortunes, felt confident enough to open a second front. The Night Lords invaded the system's agri-world of Sudhata alongside thousands of cultists.

The Verdant Fields of Sudhata

Given the fraught naval situation, a second front would be hard for us to resupply and harder to maintain. At this point it was clear to us that further reinforcement by the Imperial Guard would be necessary, but it would take time to arrive. Chapter Master Drusus, normally so cautious, made a bold move.

We temporarily redeployed all Cobalt Scions forces to Sudhata.

Drusus knew well how evasive the Night Lords can be, particularly those of the thrice-accursed sadist Icarael, the armoured coward of the Eight Legion. By sending all our units, we could overwhelm their petulant invasion before it had a chance to take root. Their cultists were soon slaughtered, and the Night Lords, realising the world could not be theirs, inevitably redirected their efforts to making the place unusable to the innocent inhabitants. They attempted this by striving to poison the Sungrutan Reservoir, an underground lake containing 23% of the planet's freshwater. It would have been an unacceptable loss, and one that we averted with extreme prejudice, albeit at some cost to the Third Company. We hounded the Night Lords from the planet and, redirecting the flow of reinforcements to the agri-world to prevent reinvasion, moved the Chapter back to Lachesis Prime, where the defenders we left behind were almost on their knees.

In a sense, this was a strategic victory for the enemy; they forced an outsized redeployment by us, enabling them to make further gains in the industrial heartlands of Lachesis Prime's Miduma Province. On the other hand, allowing the Night Lords to embark on a years-long campaign of guerilla warfare of the kind they prefer would have been worse. The heart of good strategy is forcing your opponent to choose between two bad options, and on this occasion, the enemy did just that. Whenever I see these flashes of brilliance in them, it deepens my hatred. They were created to be so much more than what they have become.

The Cobalt Scions protecting key personnel on Sudhata from the Night Lords

Stalemate

The war continued on Lachesis Prime for some months. With our naval and ground assets fairly evenly matched, and our desire to hurt each other undimmed, the fight became one of attrition. The war became a beacon to both sides as the Word Bearers called in ever more favours, and made ever more promises. Just as we stabilised things in the ruins of Thadaka, a warband of Iron Warriors arrived to tip the balance. Just as the Blood Angels answered our call for aid, we received word that the Thousand Sons were up to something in Inama, the system's mining colony, so once again much-needed reinforcements had to be redirected.

An Ill-Timed Ork Invasion

Just as we were convinced we couldn't be stretched more thinly, I received an astropathic sending from Massyleon, the distant capital system of the Massylean subsector: an ork invasion was underway.

This was ill-timed news. Lachesis is strategically vital as it controls the one stable direct route to the neighbouring Achernar sector. Massyleon is strategically vital as it is the sector's only true hive world, with all the industry that entails. The events of that war are pertinent here only in that it took me, the Cobalt Scions' Third Company, and the Raven Guard's Fifth Company, off to the opposite end of the sector at a time we could ill afford it. We were gone for some weeks, mostly due to travel time, and while we met with success in Massyleon, it lengthened the Lachesian War.

(We shall return to this point at a future date - it's in reference to a weekend campaign Harvey ran for Tom and I right after the New Year.)

The Noose Tightens

By the time we returned from Massyleon, Chapter Master Drusus had somehow managed to keep the enemy in check with the forces at his disposal. Our return tipped the balance. A final assault on Nova Hevanos was rebuffed, and town by town we retook the Miduman Manufactoria and the Haekan refineries. Even in the ruins of Thadaka we forced the enemy back, ever further.

The Cobalt Scions attempt a costly pincer manoeuvre on the Word Bearers (costly because I didn't have a great plan for dealing with the Forgefiend or the Venom Crawler, and consequently the Intercessors at the bottom centre absolutely ate it, as did the Impulsor, but ultimately the strategy paid off despite Jeff making a vigorous go of it).

In mounting desperation, I believe the Word Bearers attempted a grand ritual in the ruins of Thadaka, but as the summoned energies reached their apex, they suddenly drained away. Tolemias and I both felt as though that energy had gone somewhere, and that somewhere was Inama, the mining colony. We told the Blood Angels of this strange occurrence, and they informed us that it was too vague to be useful. A reasonable response, I concede. But whatever the Word Bearers had just attempted, someone else had benefitted.

The Traitors Turn on Each Other

It was darkly amusing to learn that the Word Bearers and the Night Lords eventually came to blows. We don't know who fired the first shot, but when the Night Lords made ready to depart, aerial reconnaissance showed that they were approached by a force of Word Bearers and engaged in open battle. The Night Lords seemed to win this exchange, partially thanks to deploying a relic Leviathan Dreadnought that single-handedly slew a tank and two daemon engines. The Night Lords melted away thereafter. Losing their primary ally made the Word Bearers' own position untenable. They fled, and we harried them all the way to the Mandeville Point. Wherever they may strike next, I do not think it will be Lachesis.

A Word Bearers Predator has an ill-fated go at venerable Night Lords Brother Molussus

The Blood Angels Send News

We soon learned who had hijacked the Word Bearers' final ritual. Seemingly determined to prove the folly of heresy, the Thousand Sons had stolen the buildup of power and used it to their own ends. The Blood Angels reported that the enemy summoned a great winged daemon, red-skinned and ferociously powerful. It slew a squadron of House Ulfir's Armigers, and, damaged by the knights' weapons, was eventually forced to withdraw by the Blood Angels' legendary Sanguiniary Guards. The daemon seemed calm as it teleported away, as were the Thousand Sons, seemingly satisfied that their objective had been achieved. Whatever that may have been, we remain none the wiser.

Maisey's newly-painted Magnus begins his Armiger hat trick on Tom's House Ulfir Knights

Aftermath

Lachesis Prime has endured, but not without cost. Industrial output is down 64%. Years of rebuilding will be needed. We are victorious, and take pride in that, but the city of Thadaka is, functionally, no more. The ring of defences we built to keep the enemy out now serves as a bulkwark to stop anything escaping from within. No people remain there, and yet those tasked with patrolling its streets claim they can still occasional screams for clemency in the distance. I miss the place that it was, and worry what supernatural ingress it might offer our foes.

The next time I meet a Word Bearer in combat, the battle cry on my lips may well invoke vengeance for Thadaka.

The campaign map in its final state. Thadaka saw so much combat that the tracker bounced off the end of the map. Note that a number of Imperial wins were removed via daemonic raiding. While the Imperium has only technically achieved victory in one of the warzones, the Chaos players understandably felt that the Imperium had racked up an unassailable lead. It was time to cut their losses.

Thoughts on the campaign format

Charlie: In one sense, the simple format of "nerd stick pin in map" has added an enjoyable throughline and context to a series of 40K games (let's not ask how much of a good job any of us did of using the campaign-specific agendas I wrote).

On the other hand, keeping score in this basic way can end up putting the focus on score more than story. To an extent, the point was to have games where we didn't have to think hard about the story and could just chalk up a win/loss on a map. For me, though, this process has demonstrated that while I'm perfectly capable of enjoying a game of 40K on its own, I am significantly more delighted by having zero campaign rules and just improvising with my friends about what the narrative consequences might be. We did this last year with the Necron campaign weekend, and I had a great time. Yes, we kept score in that one too, but once the outcome became clear, we workshopped the final chapter of the story to keep the stakes high.

It says a lot about the Lachesian War that the most interesting thing about the final weekend was the bit when the Word Bearers and the Night Lords came to blows. I was tickled by the image of Jeff's Sorcerer Khairon coming up to the Night Lords and insisting that the war was 100% definitely extremely still winnable so long as the Night Lords helped out with Phase 32. That felt like actual, humorous narrative, for which the payoff was noted angry Leviathan Dreadnought Brother Molussus beating a Forgefiend to death with a Heldrake. Jeff, forever leaning into the Word Bearers bit, told Harvey the Word Bearers would absolutely be the idiots who shot first. The Night Lords, naturally, were only too happy to oblige given how they'd been reeled into an open war with the now-defunct promise of bounteous loot.

Now look, had the games in the final weekend gone the other way, then the outcome could have been significantly different. Going into the weekend, Chaos was losing, but not by much. What we then got was two days of wall-to-wall farce, the high point of which was probably Tom's Gladiator Lancer one-shotting Jeff's brand new Land Raider in turn one. Good Lord.

Ultimately I had a good time putting my blue dudes on the table and throwing some bones with friends (even if some of those friends have now had enough of my Space Marines for a bit) but, yeah. My main take-home is that I like improvising a story, and having a campaign system puts constraints on that. Maps are good, they spawn ideas, but rules are trickier. Maybe there's a great system out there, or maybe I just need to fall back on the time-honoured tradition of winging it.

Maybe, maybe, I should also start using even more narrative approaches to games that don't even involve point scoring within the game. Maybe play some battles where we're playing an evacuation and it doesn't matter how many of my dudes escape, there's no win/loss rules, we're just playing to see how many I can save. The map could just be the place to record where stuff is and what happened, rather than a place to score points.

After all, it's not like points mean prizes.