All was chaos in Jotunheim. The asteroid's landing had been like some titanic earthquake, levelling miles of manufactorums, hab blocks and anything else that stood more than a few meters high. A great cloud of choking dust and smoke blanketed an even wider area, and the shock was enough to cause an immediate, if temporary, end to the fighting. Long minutes ticked by as the blinding dust clouds settled, but respite was not to be had for the exhausted city. From the ruins of what had moments before been the Furnace District, a horde of green flesh and hatred spewed forth. Like a tide of malice they came, one massive brute of pure ferocity and hate at their front. This force of Orks was well within the perimeter defenses of the Alliance, the majority of their forces kilometers away at the front. The city had been thought safe. Toegnasha had a clear line to his goal.
The way wasn't entirely clear. His careless destruction turned the ordered streets of the city into a twisting labyrinth of destruction and misery and death. Every avenue was clogged with wreckage, and it became a constant annoyance to keep his lads on task. He found himself constantly cracking skulls to prevent losing his forces to wanton destruction and slaughter, what with countless civilians running all about them, and the occasional armed human taking potshots as they stomped by. But he would have none of it. He was Toegnasha, and the gods sent him here with a purpose. After what seemed like an agonizingly long trial of rubble-clearing and turning back, Toegnasha and his boys finalled crawled clear of the wreckage. The way was no longer clear.
While utterly stunned with the sudden and devestating nature of the attack, the Alliance commanders had not been idle in the time it took the orks to find their way clear. Precious reserves within or just outside of the city were mustered, and hastily-formed militias were given arms and marched off to the front. Regiment after regiment was being bled away from the Eastern Approach, where the enemy's attack had suddenly redoubled but was still easily contained, and all focus was rushed to stop the massive gap in their defenses, in the heart of the city itself. Standing between Toegnasha and his final victory was a line of warriors, and the massive brute grinned at the thought of the slaughter he was about to inflict.
All map sections save for the city itself are considered to be fallen. While many brave soldiers fight on across the planet, if the city falls all will be lost, and thus it is the only fight that truly matters. After the bloodshed in the initial wave, the defenders are already losing their grip on the ork's landing ground, as more enemy forces drop directly into the city.
Feel free to play Planetstrike or Cities of Death games in these last few days before the end of the campaign.
City of Jotunheim -- 70% Alliance Control
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