"Wu halberds in hand, clad in rhino-hide armour; chariot hubs clashed, and blades met at close quarters. Banners veiled the sun, enemies massed like clouds; arrows fell thick, yet warriors vied to lead..."
Bleak and ancient, weighted with a rhythm that seemed to span time and space and a resolute will to fight, the chanting came not through amplifiers, but from hundreds of deep voices joined in a low harmony.
Through the howling wind, the roar of engines, and the shriek of bolts, it rang out clearly and stubbornly, beating like war drums above the desolate battlefield.
With the recitation of those ancient verses, hundreds of white streaks of lightning tore through the murky air and drifting Smoke.
They were the warriors of the White Scars.
They rode modified Land Speeders painted white with red markings, crouched low, their bodies moving as one with their machines.
The white ceramite of their Power Armour trailed blurred afterimages as they moved, while red eagle insignia and tribal heraldry flowed like blood.
Unlike other Legions, they did not advance slowly in tightly packed battle lines. Instead, they became countless sharp arrowheads, driving viciously into the Orks' seemingly solid yet chaotic Defense Line from every unexpected angle at dizzying speed!
"They breached our ranks and trampled our lines; the left trace horse fell, the right was wounded by blades. Both wheels sank, all four horses were bound; jade drumstick raised, the war drum thundered..."
The chanting quickened and rose, mingling with the roar of Land Speeder engines, the scream of chainswords, and the Orks' savage bellows in a strange, furious symphony of war.
"Ha ha ha ha!"
A hearty laugh, brimming with the primal joy of battle, erupted amid the Orks!
A White Scars warrior skimmed his Land Speeder past the edge of a