# Life on the Path (IC)



## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

Maechu was still and silent as he sat in meditation. The Dome of Crystal Seers resounded steadily to his heartbeat as his mind became a part of it and it a part of him. As he watched, and read the runes flowing before his eyes, he was reminded of the great and powerful seers of the past who had once held this exact position when they had scried the strands of fate to guide Ulthwe. 

Briefly, his mind wandered to thoughts of Eldrad Ulthran. The venerable old seer had seen Ulthwe through times of great sorrow and danger with the accumulated wisdom of many millennia. Now, he was gone, and the task fell to Maechu and his kin. Involuntarily, the seer`s hand gripped the spirit stone that he held clutched at his side. It had been given to him by Eldrad a short time before the Despoiler`s thirteenth crusade had begun and Eldrad himself had been lost. With Ulthran`s death, the stone had faded and become a hollow shell, but it still served to remind Maechu of the great seer and instill him with courage and drive. 

Snapping immediately to focus, he glanced across the runes, bidding them to freeze in midair before him. The positioning was unmistakeable. He nodded, knowing now the path ahead. He dismissed the runes and they fell back into the pouch at his hip. Only now did he acknowledge the others in the chamber with him. A circle of warlocks and spiritseers looked back at him and he acknowledged them with a bow. It was time to address the war council. 

_Kendra and Requiel are among these apprentice seers and will have been here for the past several hours. Was it strenuous, or did you cope with the energy output easily? What are your thoughts on the farseer`s reactions to the runes. Are you concerned or are you relieved that he has divined a course of action?_

At this time, the Exarchs of the various temples have been training their warriors relentlessly in preparation for the conflicts to come. Due to the amalgamation of warriors from various craftworlds, some of the exarchs have been reformed as honour guard units for the various theater commanders spread across the region. This leaves the aspect warriors to form mixed units from seperate craftworlds. 

_Jaeriel and Othuen have both been training under the Warp Spider Exarch *Nestherael* of Ulthwe, who is Othuen`s normal teacher. Jaeriel, how do you feel about training under an exarch from a foreign craftword? Do you approve of his methods or do you prefer your old mentor? Othuen, what is your opinion on amalgamating the squads? Ten fellow spiders are training alongside the two of you, an unprecedented squad size for any typical battle. Do you feel this is warranted or overkill?_

_Arthuin and Jae are both training under Exarch *Jolinaar*. Her usual regime has been cast aside and she no pushes you harder than she ever has before, impressing on both of you the urgency of advancing your skills as fast as possible. The seven other diciples are showing signs of fatigue, and the two of you are close to your limits as well. You both understand the significance of the coming threat, but do you agree with *Jolinaar*`s harsh methods? The two of you are sparring with each other, and the exarch`s attention is elsewhere, so you can speak to each other softly if you have any wish to._

_Carane and her squad have been dismissed from training, the Exarch *Raekinel* decreeing in disgust that no facilities are adequate to his regime here. Instead, he has instructed you and the others to use the primary dome as a training ground. You and four others of your aspect are even now soaring above the rooftops and weaving through the low hung archways to hone your skills. You pass a group of rangers loitering in a small park below. Maybe it would be fun to issue a challenge to them?_

A small group of rangers had gathered in the central park of Ulthwe`s primary recreation dome and were enjoying each other`s company and tales of adventure. Those fresh on the path bathed in the experience and awe inspiring presence of the older pathfinders, the legendary corsair *Orlath* among them. As he recounted the tale of his fleet`s victory against the Splinter Fleet of Hive Fleet Serpent, a group of Jetbikes soared overhead...

_Drasi and Svent are sharing in the jovial atmosphere of the gathering when the shining spear diciples pass overhead. If you are up to the challenge, you can don one of the nearby jetbikes and join in their aerial acrobatics, if your own skills are up to the task of course. Alternatively, you can simply stay where you are and keep learning what you can from *Orlath*._


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(ooc: ALL: This is a quick and easy beginning, a chance for some character interaction and development. Since there is not much to do at this stage, I will aim to have the next update posted in a week`s time.

Also, be aware that your actions and attitudes will influence how quickly or slowly you will advance along your chosen path.  )


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Svent had been listening to the same droaning tales of past battles and glory of his fellow eldar that traveled down the path of the outcast. Many of them seemed enthralled at the notion of the stories. They were all bewitched by tales of bravery, cunning, and excitement. But for Svent, they were just words, words upon words upon words upon countless words. This was possibly why he was hanging upside down in a tree as he listened, at least this helped keep his mind off of some things... However a sound caught his attention though he made no outward notion that it did. His eyes looked to his fellow outcast, Drasi, and he smiled under his helm's neon orange paint. 

Slipping from his perch as if he had fallen out of clumsiness he'd plummet to the ground only to flip about and land on his feet as if in a drunken manner, stumbling and hobbling to the side a bit as he miandered in a different direction for a moment. Eyes looking up to the sky as several objects passed overhead. 

As his dizziness seemed to drive him, he stumbled over to a pair of jetbikes to brace himself. Looking up only to receive the words of challenge, a grin spiraled across his face. Reaching up behind his helm and under his hood he'd slide his fingers across a few controls as he stepped up onto the bike.

Now one was normally supposed to sit on a bike, grip the handles, and brace themselves. Svent however just stood on it like a stool as he looked up towards those soaring overhead. "Hey!" Shouted one of the other outcasts as Svent placed a foot on the handle bar, just a inch from the accelerator. "Get down from there, you'll heart yourself" The Outcast would call, Svent just moved his foot and hit the accelerator and throttled the bike, causing it to take off abruptly, soaring into the air. 

Surprisingly enough Svent stayed in his pose for at least twenty seconds as he soared into the air to catch up to the shining spears that soared overhead. Catching up to the tail end of the group he went from his pose where his foot was mounted up on the handle bars (Close to a Captain Morgan stance). By this time Svent was loosing his footing, balancing like that at speed was a pain in the ass, though for sheer mocking purposes, he kept to his stance for as long as he could. 

Just as he was going to loose his grip Svent changed his positioning, turning round quickly to sit on the handle bars as he revved the throttle with his hands, back facing the rest of the shinign spears as he looked to his side and waved at the spear he was now passing before turning his head back to his front, and the bike's back. What Svent was doing was wreckless, anyone with a brain could see that, Svent however didn't seem to care. He was just having fun. Had to kill the time somehow right? And story time only worked so well. 

Mounting the bike in Earnest now Svent maxed the throttle, shouting out in glee. "I HAVE GOT TO GET ME ONE OF THESE!" In truth he had one... unfortunately he crashed his old one after a Guardsmen's rocket smacked into it. Been looking for a new one ever since. 

looking to the shining spears he'd shout over to them as he zipped along. "Challenge Accepted Ya Poncy Gits! Now Let's See what ya Got!"


((sorry for controlling the NPC, in hindsight, i think most people would say something similar))


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Since Jaeriels arrival on Ulthwe, he noticed that many of the aspect warriors of this craftworld constantly watched his every move. Being the only warrior of Biel'tan on Ulthwe he felt somewhat alone, yet also felt fierce pride at being the one to represent his craftworld. After arriving he noticed several other aspect warriors from other craftworlds. They included warriors from Alaitoc, Iyanden, Saim Hann and L'O Ranga. Perhaps he would speak to them in the future about how they felt being seconded to Ulthwe. Moving forward he found himself thinking that this would be the first time he did not fight as a part of the Bahzhakhain(swordwind). As a warrior of Biel'tan, he firmly believed that any other way to commit yourself to battle was foolish. He knew they had many great farseers and warlocks, and was curious to see how they committed themselves to battle with such emphasis on them.

Upon arriving, he found himself immediately guided to the temple of the Warp Spiders to meet with the Exarch of Ulthwe.When he first met the Exarch of the warp spiders, Nestherael, the exarch spoke with him briefly about training. "_I know that on Biel'tan your training might have been different, but know this. I will train you as if you are of Ulthwe and I expect you to act accordingly._" Jaeriel was grateful of the fact that he would look past the differences in craftworlds and train him as one of their own, yet found himself longing for his own brothers from his craftworld. Again he found himself feeling alone, yet banished the feeling. "_there are a great many warriors on Ulthwe, and I would be foolish not to accept the experience training with them will give me._" he thought as he made ready to begin training with the others.

Whilst in training he noticed that they were preparing 11 others of his temple to fight in the upcoming struggle. Biel'Tan would never commit 12 Warpspiders to a battle, in fact, he couldnt think of a time they had ever commited more than 5 or 6 of them in any battle in his entire time as a Warp Spider or a Dark Reaper."_This conflict must be more serious than i initially expected_" he thought. During a break in the training he posed a question out of curiousity to another of the temple he knew of as Othuen. "_Does your craftworld always commit this many of the warp spider aspect to battle?_" he asked. While waiting for an answer, he inwardly could not help wishing the time for training to end, and glorious battle and bloodshed to begin. This scared him somewhat, but deep down in his soul, he knew it felt right


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

Speeding over the heads of those assembled, Carane exulted a war-shout of glee. Looking back over he shoulder, it seemed that one of the others had taken it as a challenge. She hadn't intended it as such, but neither would she shy away from it when it came:

The serpent of the quest for enlightenment always guided with purpose and cunning, even in the unexpected places of the galaxy.

The one who followed showed daring, if little control, but something about his style was humourous and spurred her to further her own efforts. Jutting spars and crossways flashed by, potential disaster blurring past mere inches away.

Initially, she had thought him skilled and he showed a certain courage, yet his motions proved themselves merely dangerous antics. Yes, the bikes were responsive -almost an extension of one's body- yet few could achieve such skill.

Although she was on the Path, even Carane acknowledged she had lifetimes of skill to learn and the standard conveyance was not built for such manoeuvres.

Trying to position herself closer to him to be heard over the various screaming engines, she wove between beams and girders.

Pointing to the bike's wildly vibrating wings, she shouted in warning: "You need to slow down...your steed is not built for such tolerances!"

Perhaps he did not care, or perhaps he thought it a 'dare' to his courage, but she hoped he would heed.

Sharply decelerating, she rejoined the rest of the unit in their combat rolls, swoops and dives.

Always feeling happier in the company of her fellow Path, Carane knew that now was not the time for being insular or too-protective of one's ways.
A maelstrom was coming, one which they all had to work together to defy and perhaps even defeat.

Though novel, such a situation was intriguing to her.
Yes, The Cosmic Serpent did _indeed_ move in unexpected ways and she held his love close to her heart as she rejoiced in the thoughts of what might be to come.


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## SonOfStan (Feb 20, 2011)

Arthuin had never considered himself a particularly proud individual. He understood that the reproves and rebukes of Exarch Jolinaar were a part of his Path. She was a harsh teacher, but an excellent one. She had sang to the souls of thousands of enemies, and that alone made her worthy of respect. Arthuin normally had no issue following her instructions, regardless how brutally she made her correction.

Today, however, he felt as though he was close to speaking out for the first time. The squad had been pushed to its limit, running laps through the Arena, practicing assault tactics to exhaustion, leaping and cavorting from the marble blocks that rose and fell from the Arena floor at the whim of Jolinaar. Though the Eldar bodyh was a marvel of endurance and agility, it was still mortal, and had its limits. When Jolinaar had called their acrobatic practice to a halt, stating that their feeble efforts made her ill, Arthuin was almost to that limit. When she paired them up for sparring practice, he had to stifle a groan. He understood that it such training was important, but Jolinaar’s snarling made his blood rise.

He made a salute to his sparring partner, the female Eldar Jae, raising his unactivated power sabre to his forehead and then sweeping it in a downward arch. He stepped forward into Call of The Widowmaker, his feet shoulder width apart, resting lightly on the ground. He slipped seamlessly into Wraith in the Darkness, unleashing a flurry of quick blows that Jae easily deflected. Arthuin pushed off the ground, into Death That Descends, flipping over Jae’s head and striking down with his sabre. His blade met the uncompromising wraithbone of her own, and he was forced to defend himself from a series of well-aimed blows when he landed on his feet. 

“Well, I’m exhausted,” he said jokingly, unable to keep the edge of frustration out of his voice. “If Jolinaar says another word to me, I’m going to have to challenge her to a duel myself.”


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

Jae felt exhilarated, despite the unforgiving regime enforced by Jolinaar, she was struggling to resist the urge to whoop and laugh in enjoyment as she exchanged blows with her able sparring partner. The other eldar was Arthuin, and obviously seemed to not share in Jae's own relish of the challenge. Jae was no fool however, and knew that she could not keep up the demanding physical exertion that was required for much longer, but she would much rather collapse of fatigue rather than show any weakness in front of the exarch.

Jae consistantly repelled all of Arthuin's attacks, but she felt herself tiring and scolded herself for her lack of endurance, she had to gain the upperhand against him or suffer humiliation at his blade. There! As Arthuin slipped into the Wraith of Darkness, Jae noticed his legs tense in preparation for his next move, The Death that Descends, Arthuin my friend you are getting predictable! she thought to herself, noticing his preparation for the move that had almost ended their last spar. Jae easily parried the expected assault, but nonetheless she flinched as the eldar's momentum hammered into wraithbone and buckled her elbows, sending a flash of pain up her arms. Capitalsing on the advantage, Jae launched into the offensive, striking at Arthuin, but the powerful blow had sapped much of her strength, and she saw to that her competition was almost at his limit as well, oh the dishonour if this spar was to end with the two of them sprawled on the floor, felled by their own inadequacy! Suddenley, Arthuin whispered to her "“Well, I’m exhausted, if Jolinaar says another word to me, I’m going to have to challenge her to a duel myself.” Jae chuckled quietly to herself, Now that would be a sight! I dare say that I will enjoy watching your defeat at the hands of the exarch, the gods themselves will shudder at the blow your pride will be dealt! Jae smiled mischieviously at the other eldar, " Besides, you have yet to defeat me." With that, Jae swiftly swung at her opponent who shuddered under the sudden blow after swiftly deflecting it with his sword, and as Jae noted with a sense of glee, the competition continued.


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## SonOfStan (Feb 20, 2011)

"I'm not suggesting I could defeat the Exarch," Arthuin responded, though he was distracted by Jae's sudden offensive. He deflected each strike, side stepping and dodging away at oblique angles, never moving more then a single step in any given direction. "She is Exarch for a reason. I'm just saying a defeat at her hands would be worth the emotional release, at this point." He struck back, turning a simple block into a wide loop that threw open her guard. He lunged in, perfectly balanced and poised, driving a series of hard thrusts and cuts at her abdomen. She backed up, expertly recovering, letting each blow come within a hair's width of striking home before redirecting it, turning a momentary disadvantage into nothingness.


It was then, finally, that Arthuin saw an opening. Jae was as tired as he was, and as a result, turned to press the attack to finish the duel. Her strikes were a wild blur, moving almost too fast for him to even deal with; he backed up quickly, his own sabre a blur as it blocked and deflected, his opponent moving too fast to misdirect. He hung on grimly, knowing that he'd have only one chance to finish the bout before she overwhelmed him.

_There._ Arthuin dropped low, deep into The Viper's Gambit, and at the same time lunged forward and up. Jae's broad stroke that would have theoretically removed his head met empty air and nothingness; even though she easily recovered, it was too late. Arthuin was on a knee next to her, the point of his sabre lightly resting against her stomach. If he had of applied any force to the blow, she would have been completely run through. 

Arthuin instantly collapsed back onto the sand, and sighed. "An excellent bout as always, Jae," he breathed. "As memory serves, we are even now."


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Kendra sat in silence as she and other seers sat in the mystical dome of seers. They all sat their meditating as the farseer sought for the best course of action from now on. Kendra had her eyes closed as she waited for his verdict. She was a young and ambitious warlock, a new one so to speak. Kendra found that the energy output was easy for her to manage and she was surprised at this. She was sure that it had something to do learning from her mother, constantly watching her, plying her with questions and such. She was a patient person, having learnt that from her father as well as her mother who had to concentrate just like the farseer was doing now.

She couldn't track how many hours had gone by that they had been in the dome the farseer was taking his time, but that wouldn't affect her. Kendra was happy to sit here and be calm while everything else traveled fast around her. It was nice to take a little time before the coming storm to reflect, and she would use this time to prepare herself for whatever was coming. The farseer stood and moved which drew the attention of all the esembled warlocks and spirit seers that had sat around him. He deposited his runes before bowing to them, showing that it was time to go to war and see the council.

Kendra stood gracefully, quickly and without a sound, silently stretching her limbs before she would go anywhere. *"At last we have our path, now to follow it."* She said simply to no one in particular.


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

It was so rigorous. Othuen could feel the burning bile sliding up from his gut. His exarch, Nestherael, had been pushing them twice as hard in recent sessions. A hint at the increased difficulty of their oncoming mission. 

"The Despoiler" he muttered to himself as his face moved away from the floor, still looking down, watching the drops of sweat fall to their demise.

He hated the Black Legion. He hated all things tainted by the warp...but he would not be like his dark cousins. His hatred was well contained in craftworld discipline, and he came from the _best_ craftworld. He had no immediate disrespect for any of the other craftworlds, but still, Ulthwe was clearly the brightly shining heart of the craftworld Eldar scattered throughout the galaxy, as veiled as the colors may be.

He forced his body to push on. In order to make warp jumps, being in top physical condition was the _least_ one could do to make things easier. The jumps were always strenuous on the mind and body...and most definitely the soul. A blank void behind his eyes grew wide as he remembered the last time he made a warp jump, but the void was quickly filled with words from a stranger.

The newcomer from Biel-tan.

He looked at this Eldar, not saying anything for an oddly long moment before simply replying, "_Never_".


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Drasi was sitting cross legged on the floor. He barely listened to Orlath as the older ranger droned on and on. A thud woke him from his meditation and he opened his eyes to see Svent dropping from the tree where he had been hanging. The outcast stumbled like a drunkard to one of the few jetbikes set on stands. Svent climbed onto the handlebars of one and soared off to join the shining spears as they darted through the dome. Drasi stood smoothly and pulled on his helmet. He walked over to the jetbikes and climbed onto his. It was black and unreflective and he mounted with an ease born of long practice.

He activated the engine and felt the bike raise itself ever so slightly off the ground. He kicked back the stand and gunned the accelerator. The bike shot off into the crowd of shining spears and Drasi bent low to the handlebars. He streamed past Svent at a ridiculous speed and the other ranger grinned at him before Drasi curved the jetbike, performing a daredevil manoeuvre that had him darting through the miniscule gap between 2 pillars. He then turned a barrel roll and spun over a pair of shining spears. Their upturned faces registered shock as his jetbike passed within mere inches of their heads. When he levelled out Drasi set the bike into a steep dive, scything through the air less than a metre away from the outermost ranger of the group. He pulled up and flew straight at the roof of the dome. Halfway there he killed the thrust and the bike began to fall back to the ground but when there were barely inches to spare he gunned the engine once more and shot upwards.

He turned the bike to horizontal with out losing any speed and he flew straight at a bar that glittered in the light. One of the shining spears called out that he would kill himself but Drasi merely bent lower to the handlebars. At the last second he pushed off the foot grips, performing a somersault over the bar before landing on the jetbike. Now he was standing atop it and he held the position for a full 25 seconds before dropping back to the seat. He turned and flew back towards Svent and he heard one of the shining spears cry out to his fellow ranger "You need to slow down...your steed is not built for such tolerances!"

Drasi slowed his jetbike until he matched her speed as he shouted to her “don’t bother, the more you try to warn him the more he will do it…”


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Requiel*

Requiel sat in a meditative pose, helm by his side and eyes closed. His hands were resting on his knees, and his gloves were tucked into his belt, his knuckles were white. Visions flashed through his mind, feedback from the Farseer, nothing he could interpret but enough to strain his will even more. The flow of power in the chamber was immense, he was struggling with it, despite the presence of other warlocks and seers. He bit his lip, feeling blood begin to well up, as more and more power forced it's way through him.

And then, it was over. He wiped his mouth quickly, standing along with the others. Knowing that know they had their path...


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*Update*

Seers: The two of you follow Maechu from the Dome of the Crystal Seers out into a courtyard. He looks up and inhales deeply, you both sense a build up of psychic energy within him. As if by reaction, two rows of towering Wraithguard emerge from another alcove and march neatly before him. Though you hear no words spoken, it is clear that the Farseer commands them psychically as after a few moments one of them nods and leads the others up ahead at a very quickened pace due to their long legs. He then turns back and addresses you; 

*'Young Seers, the coming conflict will be trying on all of us, and I am afraid even the citizens of Ulthwe will be called upon to fight. Our resources are spread very thin, meaning that I need some of you to as self sufficient as you can be. The Guardians will need leadership, and the Ghost Warriors will need guidance. If any of you feel up to this task, I will ask you to consider it and inform me upon our arrival at the Crystal Dome.*

Describe these events, afterward you will continue to travel by foot along the smooth wraithbone walkway leading the short distance to the War Council Chamber. You are free to converse with one another at this point. How do you feel about the choice presented to you? Do you feel up to the task of leading a guardian squad or a wraithguard unit? If so, inform Maechu when you arrive at the Council Chamber. If you are not up to this task, you will instead serve in Maechu`s retinue.

Warriors: Your various training sessions have finally concluded (_Goglas, include a brief description of yours_) and your respective exarchs bid you to don your armour. Once this is done, you must all make your way to the War Council Chamber in the central dome of the craftworld. Once there, you will stand to attention as the exarchs take their place on raised dais` around the centre of the vast chamber. Positions are clockwise from the Farseer`s dais; Dire Avengers, Warp Spiders, Fire Dragons, Dark Reapers, Striking Scorpions and Howling Banshees. The second circle contains the second Generation Aspects. The Shining Spears are positioned in the space between and behind the Warp Spiders and the Fire Dragons. They will be arriving a bit later. 

Describe these events. You are free to converse where applicable with other players. Once all the Warriors have arrived, there is a low level of chatter between warriors as you all wait for the Farseer and the Autarch to take their places. At this point you may converse with the other aspects PC`s if you wish.

Rangers, Carane: The three of you continue your aerial competition for a short while longer, until another member of the Shining Spear squad catches up and informs the three of you that the War Council is assembling. You must land immediately, prepare yourselves and rush to the War Council Dome as fast as you can. 

Carane, are you irritated that these outcasts have delayed you? You will return at once to your temple, don your armour and rush to the Council Chamber where the rest of your squad will have arrived a short time earlier than you.

Rangers, you will land and meet back up with the Corsair Orlath. He chooses the two of you to accompany him to the War Council, reasoning that you will likely be seeing to ground operations while his armada assists the greater fleet. He brings you first to a building where the Guardians of Ulthwe are armed and armoured. Fresh suits of Guardian Armour await you should you desire them, as well as facilities for stowing any weapoins you may be carrying at the time. Outcasts are forbidden from bearing weapons in the presence of the War Council. Once ready, head over to the Council Chamber and take your place. You will be positioned on a small raised dais alongside the other non warrior representatives of the craftworld, behind the assembled warriors of the Aspect Temples.


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## Goglas (Jun 24, 2011)

Shelwe was breathing heavily, barely able to stand._ I must finish this!_​ He spit on the ground and rose to his feet. Climbing to the top of the mound of human bodies, his eyes scanned the battlefield. The skull mask on his face hid the great pain and exhaustion he was feeling, while the rest of him was covered by the blood-stained bulky Aspect Armor of his temple. Spotting more human cultists in the distance he aimed his Reaper Launcher and pressed down the trigger, unleashing a barrage of tiny anti-personnel missiles at the enemy.​ 
As he gunned them down he saw a large figure standing behind them, a chainblade in hand and twisted Power Armor seared into his skin.​ _A Chaos Raptor!_​ Shelwe stopped his fire and switched to heavier ammunition, but before he could re-aim his launcher, the marine kicked off the ground and surged upwards, landing hard next to the Eldar.​ "Destroyer!" Shelwe called out, heaving his great weapon. The Raptor roared and slashed wide, breaking the Reaper gun in half. "I can already taste your blood," the marine said, mocking Shelwe. The Eldar dropped his gun and unsheathed his knife, but not soon enough to guard himself against the Raptor's blade.​ 
Shelwe fell to the ground, a gaping wound on his chest. The marine laughed maniacally and stepped forward. He aimed his bolt pistol at Shelwe's head.​ 
"Enough!" The sound of the Exarch's voice echoed across the battlefield. Shelwe blinked in amazement as the dirt, the blood, the wound on his chest and even his wear gear faded away. In their place appeared the familiar cold wraithbone of the craftworld.​ Shelwe stood up, still breathing heavily, and straightened his robes. The clean white cloth was a stark contrast to the stained dark armor he was just wearing. Even after so many years in the Dark Reapers Temple, his psyche was still not used to the realism of the simulated battles.​ 
The Exarch examined his warriors with a stern look in his eyes. A Dark Reaper always fought from a great distance from his foes, and this training was designed to show them their limitations in close combat. Still, Shelwe could not help feel he should have done much better. The look from his master and the roughness of his tone told him the Exarch thought the same.​ 
"Don your armor and put on your masks, warriors," the Exarch said. "We leave for the Council Chambers."​ 
Shelwe saluted and did as he was ordered. He felt much slower with his real armor on, which disturbed him greatly, but he felt so safe in it he couldn't help but ponder whether a chainblade could really cut through it.​ Taking his Reaper Launcher in both hands, he moved closer to his Exarch, and followed him out.​ 
They reached the War Council Chambers after a few minutes walk, seeing as their temple was the closest to the central dome. The warriors took their place and stood at attention as the Exarch moved forward to stand on his dais.​ 
Shelwe tilted his head slightly towards one of the entrances to the Chambers, waiting to see who would arrive next.​


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

(OOC. I will be gone for three weeks on friday)

Drasi slowed his jet bike and angled it downwards. As he approached the ground he swung his leg off the bike and crouched low on the foot grip . As he reached the ground he kicked the stand down and leapt off the bike, watching it slow to a halt before turning to Orlath. The corsair gestured at Drasi and Svent saying “you two, with me.” Drasi nodded and followed the veteran corsair through the dome. They came to a building and Orlath went inside. Drasi followed him and saw that it was where the suits of armour were kept. He walked down the corridor till he came to his armour and, stepping into the room that contained it, proceeded to pull it on. He slipped his cloak over his shoulders. He reached down to his leg, pulling the shuriken pistol and holster there off his leg and placing them in a cabinet to one side of the room. After that he reached down to his ankle, pulling out the small dagger sheathed there and placing it in another cabinet. After that he pulled on his helmet and left the room.

He then followed Orlath out of the building to the war council’s chambers. He walked past the lines of Aspect warriors and joined the other outcasts on a dais behind the warriors alongside several none combatants. Drasi stood straight as he saw the Exarch of his old temple and he glowered inside his helmet, that was the man who was the cause of his banishment and that betrayal was still raw in the rangers mind despite the many years spent in the wilderness of space. Drasi unconsciously adopted the pose of a striking scorpion but relaxed when another ranger nudged him and pointed out what he was doing. He waited for the Autarch and Farseer to arrive with a slightly bored expression hidden beneath his helmet. He sat on the dais, adopting a meditative position. Taking off his helmet and placing it to one side he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, reflecting on his actions as he waited for the others to arrive. Hindsight was such a valuable quality he reflected…


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

After putting a stop to the training, the Exarch of the Warp Spiders bid them to don their armor and follow him to the war council chambers. As he was putting on his white and green armor of Biel'tan, Jaeriel could not help the feeling of excitement that swept through him. _The battle draws closer_ he thought as he finished armoring himself, feeling the reassuring weight of the heavy aspect armor. Grabbing his Death Spinner, he followed the Exarch and the rest of his Aspect to the Council Chambers. As they filed into the chamber, taking their place between the Dire Avengers and Fire Warriors, he felt his gaze settle on the Dark Reapers. The mantra of the Dark reapers, _War is my master, Death my mistress_ drifted through his mind along with memories of battles past, and blood shed from his time as a Dark Reaper. Shaking away the memories, he cleared his mind and waited for the meeting of the War Council to begin.


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

The Biel-tan seemingly had nothing more to say at Othuen's response. He couldnt blame him, he supposed, for what more was there to say? It was obviously the largest unit composition either of them had ever seen which meant the battle would be bigger than either of them had seen as well; and that meant certain death.

He knew why the Ulthwe fought chaos, but he was not exactly certain why Eldar from other craftworlds had come to fight as well. Sure, all Eldar despise chaos and recognize it for the evil it presents but normally most of the other craftworlds had their own business to attend to. 

As they cleaned up and doubled their physical size by getting into their heavy aspect armor, Othuen asked the Biel-tan spider, "Out of curiosity, what exactly brings you here to Ulthwe? I can understand that other craftworlds wanted to _feel_ as if they are helping us against the armies of Chaos, but what brought you here, specifically?

They had begun on their walk, about a half hour's distance from the central dome. The temple of the warp spider aspect warriors slowly getting smaller behind them with each jarring step. It was bright outside, some time during the artificial day....actually, it had been increasingly difficult for him to tell whether or not the light 'outside' was real or artificial. It was just light. What had it mattered to him anyway? He wasn't sure, for he had never lived on the soil and grass of a real world; merely lingering natural instincts he supposed. Thoughts like this always caught his interest, for despite the overwhelming age of the Eldar race, there was still just a hint of natural instinct left inside some of them.

By the time they had reached the central dome and took their seats at the war council, he hoped his Biel-tan companion had an answer for him.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Requiel*

'Young Seers, the coming conflict will be trying on all of us, and I am afraid even the citizens of Ulthwe will be called upon to fight. Our resources are spread very thin, meaning that I need some of you to as self sufficient as you can be. The Guardians will need leadership, and the Ghost Warriors will need guidance. If any of you feel up to this task, I will ask you to consider it and inform me upon our arrival at the Crystal Dome.'

Requiel did not need to dwell on it long, he knew he couldn't remain in close proximity to the Farseer, the backlash of energy from the seer was just too much for him to handle, certainly in battle. However, he was accustomed to the company of a craftworlds dead. His own craftworld now made frequent use of the mighty wraith warriors and Requiel had always felt an instinctive fellowship with the inhabitants of the infinity circuit.

As they walked Requiel turned to the Warlock who walked alongside him, knowing that they would be fighting alongside each other soon he figured it would be the best time to get to know her. "I am Requiel, do you feel up to leading a squad in battle, or are you more comfortable supporting the great seer?"


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

During the walk to the war council Jaeriel thought about what the Ulthwe spider asked him. Why had he volunteered to come to Ulthwe, he asked himself. As they got closer and closer to the council chambers, he began to realize that he came to fight the forces of chaos, nothing else. As they stood in the War Council, Jaeriel turned to the Ulthwe spider and said 
"I came because no one else would come. The experience your craftworld has fighting those that follow the way of eight is second to none, and I wish to gain some of that knowledge from your people. My exarch suggested we send the Bahzhakhain, but the Court said no, for the council did not see it in battle here. When the Court of Biel'tan asked for volunteers, I was the first and only."

Turning away from the Ulthwe spider, Jaeriel felt slightly shamed that no others from Biel'tan volunteered. He banished the feeling, looking forward as the council assembled.


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

"An excellent bout as always, Jae," he breathed. "As memory serves, we are even now."


Jae's legs finally collapsed beneath her, although she scolded herself for letting weakness show against her fellow eldar, it was a stupid mistake brought on through fatigue, she was better than that. "Five each I do believe? Though whose counting?" Finding herself strangely content with inactivity Jae longed to simply lie on the field for eternity, her every joint screaming in pain following the strenuous training regime. However, the booming voice of Jolinaar shook Jae out of her thoughts, "Only the dead have earned the right to rest!" she bellowed at the two trainees, Jae scrambled quickly to her feet, biting back the retort that threatened to come to her lips, momentarily forgetting the powerful being whom was the source of the fury directed at her. "Our apologies Exarch, we shirk our duty." Jae put on a shameful face, hoping for his own sake that Arthuin also had the right mind to do likewise.
Jolinaar looked up and down the two exhausted recruits, a grimace of distatse etched upon her face, the features of a harsh instructor and a cold warrior both. Although known for being a jovial exarch and an eldar full of camaredie, warriors from every aspect knew of her reputation as an unforgiveable teacher. Jolinaar knew what the young warriors must be going through, she knew that this was too much for them to handle, but she also knew that nothing else could prepare them for what was to come, and she had her doubts that even this would fortify them for the horrors of the coming battle, but even so, they deserved some respite from her temper." Either way, this session is now concluded.", and then turning to address the greater group of Banshees, "We are requested at the Council's chamber as representatives of our temple for the battle to come. Dismissed." 

Jae jogged along the path to the chamber, her ferocious mask, and emblem of her aspect, slung under her arm. She had donned her armour quickly with the rest of the warriors, unwilling to be late for the council themselves. Turning onto the path leading to the chamber itself, Jae found Arthuin on his way to the War council as well. Thoughts of the duel had raced through Jae's head following the bout, her silly error mocking her at every corner. Although she knew that Arthuin was a truly worthy opponent and a gifted fighter. In preparation for the coming campaign, the different Banshee shrines had merged in an attempt to share their knowledge and expertise. Arthuin hailed from the Harbringer shrine, and since the first joint lesson they had kicked up a friendly competition between the two, both being near, if not at, the top of their class. The challenge thrilled Jae, finding the different techniques that Arthuin utilised in battle to be a refreshing change from the routine doctrine taught at her own shrine. 

In the chamber, Jae took note of the warp spider aspects and some secluded rangers already in their positions. She also noticed the dark reapers standing on their own dais, their armour shining in the light. Shaking her head, Jae approached her own temple's area, she had long ago given up attempting to understand what possessed the Reapers to forego the glory of confronting an enemy up close and in the adrenalin fueled rush of second by second melee, and rather opt for striking their foes from so far away that one cannot even see the light fade from an opponent's eyes! However, doubt their effectiveness she did not, for such ranged forces were a necessity in battle, but the warrior's motives themselves eluded her. Turning to Arthuin she wondered what were his own thoughts, "Arthuin, I always wonder what strange emotions compell warriors to interact with the dance of combat from afar, rather than engage in the swirling mass! These dark reapers are a mystery to me, although their prowess is not, what do you think about them?" before he could answer however, Jae couldn't help but wonder about the eldar himself, "In fact, the thought occurs to me that you yourself have not yet told me your own reasons for joining our noble aspect!"


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

Once the war council was reached, the Biel-tan did indeed come up with an answer for him. It was a disheartening one.

Othuen had tried to tell himself it was because the Bile-tan were likely engaged in their pursuits of warfare upon the galaxy as they often were, fighting Orks or the Imperium. But this, bah!, he should have known better.

"From now on, I know of only one Biel-tan I can rely on; and if unseen forces allow us to live beyond the coming confrontation and I some day find myself in Biel-tan's shadow I will know who to ask for. Rather, I would if I knew your name cousin. Mine is Othuen, welcome to Ulthwe'."


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Svent's engines were glowing red and turning white from the strain he was putting them under, the back of the jetbike was bellowing out smoke like a Ork Fightabomba. he hadn't headed the warning that he should slow down, instead he had just pushed his bike harder, and harder, and harder, till he reached it's breaking point. Svent flew through the area like a bat out of hell, dodging, weaving, and swerving in and out of the various obstacles in his way. it wasn't until he saw the system Critical warning light flicker on and then die violently that he actually turned towards the landing area, the jetbike stuttering and sputtering while it's back end belched out plumes of smoke. 

as Svent came down to land next to Dras's bike, his engine finally gave out and his bike smacked into the ground with a crunch sound. despite the injured jetbike though, Svent seemed rather pleased with himself, the rush of it all still flowing through his body as he strode up to Dras, his neon orange mask still hiding his wicked grin, but his cloak couldn't hide the excitement in his movements. though he was visibly suprised as Orlath told the two of them to follow him. 

as they entered a building Svent watched as various Eldar all dawned the armor of the craftworld Ulthwe, his twisted smile faded however as he watched other Eldar from other worlds remove their armor and dawn this new set instead. stepping away from it Svent shook his head, "i just don't see anything in my color..." he'd muse as he quickly stepped up on a bench and stepped over to the other side of it. "could use a drink though" he noted, placing his arm round a guardian's shoulder, his head resting on his wrist as he looked to the guardian, "you know where i could get one? thinking a big old jug of some spiced beverage." he'd tease, slipping off of the guardian

at first, Svent tried to proceed to the next room, though two Eldar with spears prevented this. "no weapons beyond this point" they'd state in unison, their spears crossed as svent just stood there looking at the two. "but they have weapons" he'd retort, leaning over, drawing his power cutlas, and just leaning on it, it's blade on the ground."outcasts are forbidden from bringing weapons into the presence of the war council" they'd retort. a mischievous grin sprawled across Svent's face as he'd feint left then go right, only to have it be a feint as well. his only intention was just to dick with the guards a bit. just seeing how many times he could get them to screw up with how they would block him, though it didn't take long for Svent to become bored of this little game, only about five seconds to be honest, at which point he complied and disarmed himself. setting his Power Cutlass on the rack as well as his shuriken pistol, Svent however seemed reluctant to place his rifle on the rack, and clearly did so only to gain access to the next room. 

moving into the next room, Svent quickly darted through the rest of the noncombatants and other "Lesser" paths, only to make his way to the Dias to stand alongside Dras. seeing however was a problem, as Eldar were known to be rather tall, and well, not everyone was the same height. how did Svent solve this? By bouncing up and down like a rabbit. he'd BOING into the air, jumping as high as he could to see what was going on around him and in the room. "by the gods what i wouldn't do for a jet pack.... a warp spider's pack would also be nice... but that would mean conforming to all their restrictions... well that, and not as many opportunities to blow things up. "


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*Update*

As the Court finished gathering, and all the visitors had taken their place, all eyes were turned towards the primary platform. Maechu`s apprentice warlocks were all present, but the farseer himself had not yet arrived. Nor was the assigned Autarch present. A low murmuring began, it was unusual for such important officials to be this late. A few of the exarchs began to exchange nervous glances, aggression was their nature and this business of having nothing to focus themselves upon was discomforting. 

'I wonder what`s going on...' Orlath muttered from the rear platform. A few warriors spared him a glance, doing their best not to pay any heed to the larrakin ranger beside him. 

The pilot sect seemed similarly disturbed. Though they were not as tempered as the warrior exarchs, they maintained enough discipline however to keep such concerns silent. It was a full further five minutes before Maechu finally emerged onto the platform, alongside the Autarch *Eldranna*. Eldranna was a lithe figure bearing the black and bone armor of the craftworld. She carried her helmet under one arm and the Hawk wings at her back were furled to avoid impaling the seer beside her. 

As impressive as these two were, it was the figure accompanying them that drew the most attention. 

'Mon-Keigh!' Jolinaar hissed, only to be swiftly silenced by a glare from Eldranna. There was silence as the farseer raised his hands and began to speak. 

*'The Great Enemy has shown their hand and the time to strike approaches. The human world of Calleth is falling under siege, and we must make all effort we can to keep it from falling. The Imperium maintains a strong presence here, but their strength is insufficient to the task. As such, we must lend our might where it is needed most and ensure that the forces of Chaos are driven back and exterminated.'* He paused, before lowering his hand and stepping back, allowing Eldranna to step forth. 

*'We have contacted the Imperium and given our warnings. By the grace of Khaine, they have agreed to prepare their defenses. However, they are not aware of our coming involvement save for a few, and in the interest of keeping on good terms for the foreseeable future, we have agreed to be as covert in our operation as we possibly can. This is Inquisitor Jacob Mykyas. He will act as our liaison and ensure that our peoples do not meet. Understand however, that the enemy`s defeat takes priority over this arrangement, and should Human forces prove insufficient to the task at hand, we will intervene.'* She spares a glance at the human ambassador, and he nods understandingly. Eldranna nods in thanks before continuing. 

*'The focus of the battle is to intercept a convoy that will reinforce their primary staging zone. Their landing zone is too well entrenched to attack directly, but once they begin to travel they must traverse an expanse of jungle terrain to reach the Imperial Strongpoint. If we can starve them of reinforcements for a few days, it will give Imperial forces enough breathing space to prepare a counterattack and drive Chaos from this world. If necessary, we will assist at this stage as well. Once the forces of Chaos are in retreat, we will pursue their fleet and wipe them out before they can contact more of their filthy kind.'* 

At this point, Maechu stepped forward again and looked at each of the exarchs in turn. He then turned his gaze to the rangers. 

*'The task will fall to you to meet the convoy when they have entered the jungle. Pick off as many of the leaders as you can and withdraw. While they are in disarray, the warhost will move in. Our Scorpion and Spider aspects will meet them in the flanks while the Banshees and Fire Dragons meet them head on. We will then have our Hawk and Spear aspects deliver death from above while the Reapers ensure the destruction of any who attempt to retreat. There can be no mistakes. Our guardians and Spirit host will be in reserve, ready to redeploy as needed. Are we all clear on the task at hand? This will be the first of many raids in this campaign, and we cannot afford casualties this early.'*

He pans his gaze across all of you, then turns and leaves. His warlock council follows him out before Eldranna and the inquisitor leave as well. 

--- --- ---​
All: This will be a fairly simple update. You will react to the events described above before your exarch/Orlath/Maechu leads from the chamber back to your temple/hangar/dome to prepare for combat. You may express your opinion regarding the collaboration with the Imperium, you may ask any questions of your respective leaders regarding your tasks, and you may see to any pre-battle rituals you may have. 

After this, your respective leaders will lead you to the main Webway port to await deployment instructions.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Jaeriel turned to Othuen " I am Jaeriel of Biel'tan, and your words of welcome are most appreciated my friend. Know that if we indeed survive this battle, then you shall always have an ally at Biel'tan." After he spoke, the council assembled and he leaned forward to listen.

As he watched, Maechu emerged into the chamber followed by the Ulthwe Autarch, Eldranna. Jaeriels eyes were drawn to the smaller figure that emerged with them, and he felt his hands tighten on his death spinner as he realized it was a Mon-keigh. Fighting the overwhelming urge to end the life of this pathetic creature, Jaeriel forced himself to listen to what this council had to say. As the council outlined the situation on Calleth, Jaeriel felt his rage building at the mention of contacting the Mon-Keigh, and allowing their presence on a craftworld. _what madness is this, that a pathetic human be invited, even allowed, onto a craftword._ He thought.

After the meeting of the council, he made his way back to the warp spider temple with the rest of his aspect. During the short walk, he turned to Othuen " I do not like this arrangement with the Mon-keigh. They have betrayed my people once, and I do not wish to see them do the same to yours my friend. " he said, remembering the events on Tartarus as they entered the temple of the warp spider.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

"I am Requiel, do you feel up to leading a squad in battle, or are you more comfortable supporting the great seer?" 

Kendra looked over at Requiel as he introduced himself to her. She smiled at him before replying,* "Requiel, a pleasure to meet you. I am Kendra. I am hoping that I will be able to lead a squad into battle, though I would also like to be near the great seer, the things that we could learn from him are staggering."* She said this as they walked slowly towards the briefing dome, the other aspects would already be there when the farseer and his entourage entered. 

As they reached the dome Kendra quickened her pace to match the farseers, *"If I may farseer, I would put myself forward for either leading the Ghost Warriors or a guardian squad in the coming days. I feel I am up to the challenge."* (Late reply but still)

Soon the warlocks took their places, the farseer dissapearing for the moment. It was obvious that the other aspects were unsettled by his absence, some visibly looking around for him as they were forced to wait five minutes for him to reappear with a Mon Keigh and the Autarch. Kendra stayed still the entire time, even though she was bursting with energy. She was slightly put off by the appearance of a Mon Keigh on the craftworld, but the Farseer and Autarch would know what they were doing, they would not put the craftworld needlessly at risk, and she was sure that they had taken some form of precaution.

Once the briefing was given the farseer, human and warlocks exited, Kendra moving near the back. She hoped she would be given command of a squad, to guide them to victory. Hopefully she wouldn't fail and have members of her squad killed, she thought as she moved gracefully back to the dome to prepare herself. She was content in their mission, she just had to find out if she was in command of a squad, preferably leading the Wraith Guard into battle.


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

The Ranger's borrowing of the jetbike had proven to be amusing...not _at_ him, but that there was at least someone who shared her joy in such pursuits when she had not expected it....albeit from someone for whom it would be a 'hobby' rather than a 'calling'.

Though late for the council, Carane had not skimped on garbing herself in the ritual armour and intoning the same phrases she always did: "Vengeance for the fallen. Justice where required. Search the knowledge, for it hides in the dark places."

Though she was respectful and did not try to draw attention to herself as she entered the War Council room, she did not care if others saw her rushing...she was there and she considered that this was what mattered.

However, the sense of anticipation was palpable to Carane's senses...not necessarily that she was any more attuned than others assembled, just that most of her life had been geared towards sensation.
Some other Craftworlds may have said 'hot-headed' or even 'dangerous', yet Saim Hann travelled as straight a path as any -perhaps even narrower than the others because of this- yet she had little to compare themselves to.

She was a little irritated at the stand-off-ishness of the others around, although she knew it was expected to not make friends quickly, as well.
_'Perhaps all it may take is for me to be more forwards myself?'_ she considered.

Lacking an obvious source of verbal discourse, she tried instead to 'read' the unsaid body language of people around, trying to discern the things that were not said just as much as the things that were.

Clearly the pilots were uneasy...it was good that they kept their own counsel, yet she was unsure if something that threatened one threatened all?

Although her propensity for aerial endeavours meant she shared an 'arm's-length' bond with such a sect, she knew that it was the the close quarters combat and the aerial duels she craved, not the battle-at-distance of a Vampire Bomber or even a Nightwing.

Although no stranger to new experiences, Carane took an involuntary step back at the sight of the 'human'. The name of 'Inquisitor' meant nothing to her, yet he was more powerfully built than her kind and his bearing indicated someone used to holding quite important standing in his own community.

However, he also did not seem fazed by the assembled ones who he might once (or even in other surroundings) have termed 'aliens'.

No matter, the stain of the Great Enemy and its accomplices had to be stopped...even if it meant forging new alliances with old foes. It was something she fully embraced and looked forwards to seeing the humans of this 'Imperium' in action. 

The hit and run tactics were well suited to her preferences and she understood the need for saving their precious fighting resources. it may even be an opportunity to see what the Hawks could do. If their Autarch was anything to go by, she was sure it would be a sight to behold. 

For an instant, she felt the glance of the Farseer upon her and it gave her a boost of the energy she enjoyed the most: the one that challenges and drives her to achieve all she can.

With the meeting over, she sought out her leader:
"Exarch, we may come from different places, yet have common purpose. These new allies fill me with excitement that we are not alone in the galaxy to push back the evils of Chaos.

"I supose you know that Saim Hann is well-reputed for it's wild ways and fury and this is with good reason. We seek 'thrills' and sensation not for their own sake, but for the good ends and true deeds that we put our skills to. Perhaps this makes the Path narrower to follow..? But I have never yet heard of one of my Shrine back home falling from it. 

"But I would not derelict my duty to either yourself or to your Shrine, or to this cause for the sake of such 'rebelliousness'.

"I am here to learn all that I can, not to steal your secrets, but to better myself and gain a greater understanding of life and the Path.
"I will be as close to the squad as it respectful and allowed.
"I will prove that I do not need special treatment to fight at your sides and I would very much welcome your guidance in the times to come."

[Awaits response, then goes to the arming docking bay/launch chambers/etc to prepare for war].


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

svent ended up just mellowing out once he saw the human, eyes locked on him throughout the entire thing. the whole thing didn't set well with him. the humans were too stupid to understand impending doom less it was by their own hands. hell they'd throw a stone at a tyranid if they thought it would do anything. as things started to wind down for the meeting, Svent made to leave, slipping past his fellow eldar much to their confusion. right as he made it to the doors everyone was dismissed and Svent simply slipped into the armory to retrieve his weapons before a single soul left the room. it was a good five minutes until svent even heard anyone coming to gather their gear. and in that time, svent had been spending his time prepping his own and gathering up plenty of explosives. 

"ha first one's out... show that howling banshee who challenged us to a ... who in the warp is that?" two guardians entered the room and were rather confused to see svent closing a box and tucking it under his arm. "what's a ranger doing here?" they'd wonder aloud as svent left the building, not bothering to wait any longer for anyone else, his supposed leader apparently added to that list. 

svent didn't go to the launch bay right away, he didn't travel where everyone was supposed to meet up, he simply started wondering through the halls of the craftworld near the windows looking to the outside. 

"time to be betrayed yet again is it? well, not much i can do bout dat then is there?" he'd ask no one inpiticular as he stared out the window for a moment longer before moving to the launch bay. though instead of gathering round with the rest of the rangers, he'd linger round where each aspect was to meet up, he'd drift from the howling banshees, to the warp spiders, everything inbetwene and back again. he'd stop to talk with the first one who called him out.


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Eriel stood among the Dire Avengers at the War council, when the Farseer Maechu brought the human Inquisitor to the podium.
Eriel reflected on the months that had led to this moment. The extreme training regiments the Dire Avengers had been but through, often together with elements of the Black Guardians. It had been clear to Eriel and his Exarch that they were preparing for war on a scale the Craftworld had not been a part of for a long time. Even Eriels father or mother had not been part of such a large engagement. Most of the younger warriors being very excited and worried about what the future was to bring.
Eriel had trained harder than most, knowing that the stakes however unknown to him would be extremely high.
Now the day had come, where the warriors had been called to the war council.

As Eriel suspected a hard outline of the theatre of war had been given and the initial deployment parameters had been given. Just enough for everyone to know what to do, but not too much in the situation where capture would jeopadize the operation.

Eriel watched the reaction from his fellow Eldar when the human was brought forth, with a little smile on his lips. He hoped not too many would take notice, but it was rather fun to see. The gasps of horror and contempt, the angry eyes of a look that could kill and the small body signs of true surprise.
It was not like it was the first time a human had set foot on this craftworld and probably not the last, Eriel remembering all the gossip there had been back in the days when emerald seer Thae'akzi had allowed an entire Space marine squad aboard, to send them into the eye of terror, deathwatch he believed they had been called.(Novel: Warrior Coven) Eriel still wondered from time to time, what had become of those warriors, that could call up so much hate and contempt in his own race.

Eriel allready ready for war went directly to the launchbay and the waiting wave serpents and other transports. There pilots not having arrived, Eriel sat down to meditate a bit and get what rest he could before the battle.
Watching a rather interesting Eldar in the usual fatigues of a travelling Eldar ranger. His appearance reflecting a person that was learning how to handle explosives. Unlike his fellows he walked a rather erratic path along the windows and then he started walking among the various aspects that was beginning to gather.
As he passed Eriel a second time, he couldn't help himself to talk to the Ranger.

_"Greetings fellow rather erratic Eldar friend"_
Making the eldar turn to see sitting Dire avenger, smiling slightly amused, Eriel continued. 
_"Its good to see that outside Eldar have come to our Aid, but I do not recognize your craftworld markings and colours. But I suspect you are a playful one, your walk remind me of Harlequins when they dance to battle."_
Eriel waving his arms in a parody of the dancing Eldar of the laughing god. 
_"I hope I can be witness to some of your shenanigans master ranger, it is often..... interesting to see those outside our society make trouble for our enemies. I just have one advice to give to you, if you will accept it. Just once in the upcoming battle ask someone for advice. Ohhh and tell me if I need to run for some reason."_


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Svent turned to look at the person who had called him out as he passed. "if ya got words ta say lad, best say em now while i'm still livin, no tellen what this crazy plan of the farseer's will get us, never did trust the posh ones anyway. always going on bout some magnificent vission or the like... " upon recalling the question of his craftworld svent would let a smile creep up on his face as he dropped the explosives in a less than carefull manner. moving towards Eriel with a bit more spring in his step than more would normally think, eldar being mostly a calm and collected people. 

"my craftworld? i'm not realy supprised at that. not supprised at that at all matter-o-fact. but ere, let me inlighten ya eh?" svent would reply as his spring bounced him up onto a crate still waiting to be placed inside the transports. " as for helping, didn't have much choice in the matter. i pop out of da warp, un find myself looking down the barrels of a few rather nasty guns. get hailed by this craftworld, and in the interest of not being turned into space dust, i agreed to help. " letting out a low breath as he plopped down and sat on the munitions crate he'd remove his helmet and lower his hood. 

"on my craftworld we have a saying. kind of a odd one, but it's I See You, now to most dat dont mean nothing at all save for what it means. for us it's more of saying we understand the paths we all take, and that they may be different, but we still see them. pretty much a rather strange way of saying good luck. last time i was there, pretty much got damned... got told I No Longer See You. pretty much mean i aint welcome dere no more... no fault of mine i tell ya, aint no fault of mine. dey just aint happy dat i left em an all to follow my path. ya see my craftworld don't look too kindly on rangers an da like. but for what it's worth, Lo'ranga is rather a nice place. miss it even, may even go back after dis is all over. settle down on a paradise world we got near there..." taking a heavy breath he'd paus for a moment, pulling out a small picture he kept in his sleeve to show the other eldar.

"nice little planet, the star that it orbits causes conditions that force it's life to utalize bioluminecence... you should see the place at night you should. aint a pretter place in dis here whole galaxy den dat dere planet under a stary night. screw all dis here fighting, screw the past, so we screwed up... aint make us no better nore no diffrent den anyone else in dis life. dem blue boys... da tau i think they call demselves, dey realize ya got to look for the future if you're gonna get anywhere, cant look behind ya all de time, ya just gonna repeat the past that way. but eh i've gone and bored ya wid my stories.... will say dis dough, hope dis here farseer of ours knows what she's doing, helpen dem humans like this an all... i aint got no love or no hate for em, just saying we gonna get stabbed in the back is all. dey gonna use us to do their dirty work, den they gonna blast us till we're dust in the wind. or glass on the ground, an ya, talken from experience dere... humans come in two varieties. the kind that don't care what ya are and will generally just leave ya be, and den deres da ones dat dont take kindly to anything that aint human or sympathies with anything dat aint human. "


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## Goglas (Jun 24, 2011)

Shelwe frowned at the sight of the Inquisitor; not because of him, but because of the warhost's apparent disdain towards him. _It may be that the humans are an inferior species,_ Shelwe thought, _but that does not excuse our behavior. This was the Farseer's decision, after all. _

And that was enough for him. The true enemy, he always believed, was Chaos. As long as the warhost was directed against the Great Enemy, the details of this or that conflict mattered little to the Death Reapers. Or at least to Shelwe.
He could already imagine the battle to come, raining destruction on Chaos filth. He swore in his heart that he will allow none of his enemies to escape with their lives.

With the Farseer and Autarch having left the Chambers, the council quickly dispersed, and the Death Reapers made straight to the webway port to await deployment. 

Standing there amongst his comrades, awaiting the rest of the host, Shelwe noticed two warriors talking of the battle to come. He considered approaching them and listening for their opinions of the coming struggle against Chaos, but the almost incisive blabber of the ranger discouraged him from doing so. 
_Perhaps another time,_ he thought, _when I'm not about to face an enemy that would probably try to eat my soul. Somehow, for some reason, these two seem light-hearted. They have a sort of calmness I...don't...like._


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

Othuen had kept his jaw tight, his teeth grinding slightly, but harshly, across one another. He maintained his anger until Jaerial spoke to him, asking of his opinion. His head turned to the side as they walked, away from Jaerial in embarrassment of showing such emotion, "_Its an outrage!"_ he began, tightening his lips and inhaling heavily through his nostrils, "_Bringing a human onto what little world and seclusion we have left. As if we need them to tell us where the human forces will be, bah! We have seers that train their entire lives for that very purpose. We Ulthwe are practically prized for our seers for the ancients' sake. Ridiculous. Absurd!"_

He calmed slightly, letting his long years of meditative training kick in, and looked about for any fellow warp spiders that may have been eavesdropping. In case they did he followed with, "_I will do my duty, and I will do so with the utmost of focus and respect for our leaders. But I do not agree with this. We don't need a pathetic human to aid us. They are an infantile race, merely spoiled!_"

He continued speaking in a low, half whisper to Jaeriel, "_It feels I have less faith in my own kind with each passing day. How can I have faith in mon-keigh allies? They're just as likely to shoot us as the true enemy."_

After they re-entered the Temple of the Warp Spider, Othuen remembered there was still he had to do before going on this mission. He hadnt finished changing the colors of his war plate to those of the warp-spider aspect. He walked through the main room, then down a glass walled passage way that allowed the orange artificial light sunlight through as he made his way to the chamber in which each Eldar prepared and maintained their heavy aspect armor. He took hold of the proper tools, sat cross legged with his armor before him on the floor, and began to further his involvement in the Aspect. He would leave only very thin, sleek black triangular stripes over the arms, legs, and perhaps one down one half oh his front midsection. Highlighted with bone white would be nice as well. He wasnt sure he would ever be able to fully replace his Ulthwe' heritage.


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

Jae realised her companion was not going to answer her question as the seconds rolled by, she began to realise that perhaps she was delving into things best left unanswered, but she soon realised that Arthuin's attention was riveted onto the podium and a sharp hiss from Jolinaar anounced the source; *"Mon-Keigh!"* Jae whipped her head around to stare at the Farseer and Autarch as they entered the room, closely shadowed by the small creature that was the target of the exarch's fury. Her anger was not alone in the air, the entire warhost fell silent and the anger burned in their eyes, most notably Jae could see that only decades of discipline and lifetimes of service kept the warp spider aspect's warriors from slaughtering the man who stood stubbornly before them. However, Jae's own gaze was one of curiosity, she had only ever laid eyes on humans who had fallen to the dark gods, and had only heard their cries of battle and screams of terror, yet this was the first 'Imperial' she had seen in her years, and this 'Inquisitor' stood defiantly amongst the hostile eldar, his eyes meeting that of every one of theirs and daring them to make a move in front of their leaders. She smiled silently to herself, these humans did indeed look like fun, she couldn't help but respect his foolhardy daring and decided that she will listen to what the man had to say, and then decide whether or not she wanted to kill him.

Jae's mind was in full gear following the council meeting, and a smile of glee was fixated on her features at the expectation of battle. Yet she had questions about the coming battle, she couldn't wait to spill the blood of her foes, but she also knew her own limitations and that of her fellow warriors, and she had no intention of falling this early in the campaign, and all the while she couldn't stop thinking about the Imperial, he intrigued her and she had many thoughts as to why the Seer Council had negotiated this pact, was the chaos threat so grave? And she also had many questions about their new 'allies'. Jae jogged up to Jolinaar and bowed low to the exarch who herself was preparing for the coming confrontation, yet Jae knew the great warrior enough to know that a combat mission such as this wouldn't cause the lines of worry on the exarch's face that were so visible. Banishing such thoughts from her mind, Jae focused on the more pressing matters, "Exarch, I request permission to voice my concerns about the mission," this brought Jolinaar's attention and a slight nod to continue, "I will gladly fight to the death on behalf of the craftworld and I do not doubt the seers, but I am aware of our temple's doctrine and our abilities, is it truly wise to be in the front of this assault, I do not insult the honour of the position ofcourse, but our codes dictate to be in combat as soon as possible and to be exposed to open hostile fire for as short as possible," Jae took a breath before continuing, trying to discern her leader's thoughts, "and yet, charging forward into a full armed force of our opponents will put us directly in their line of fire. If such action is the best course to success then I will gladly do so at your word, yet I question if the council has already taken such considerations into account." Jae stopped and awaited a response from the exarch, Jolinaar gazed down at the young eldar warrior, so full of energy and questions, yet she also realised that she was inexperienced enough as to not be fully pleased by the word of her superiors alone, "Jae, don't worry I have worked with the council before and they have yet to let us down, and have faith in our fellow aspects, they can do more than you yet give them credit for."
Jae pondered the answer, not really knowing if it was the one she really wanted but it satisfied her for now, "My thanks Exarch, but I also question about the alliance with the Mon-Keigh," Jolinaar visibly shifted at the mention of the sudden turn of events, "I have never seen the warriors of this 'Imperium' until this day, and I have heard rumours abound of distrust and betrayal rife in not only our past operations with them, but even deep within their own ranks, is this true?" 
"Listen closely young one, you can NEVER trust a human, you can NEVER rely on a human, and you can NEVER predict a human apart from the fact that they WILL betray you." Snapped Jolinaar, the poison in her voice taking Jae aback, "That makes them very useful in battle" "Then why are we to not trust them if they can hel-" Jae began before the Exarch cut her off, "Understand this young one, they are useful tools, yet impractical allies, we have saved their worlds countless times, yet they pillage our homes and burn our borthers and sisters, they believe themselves different to their fallen brethren, yet they are one and the same." Jae considered the words of the older warrior, taking them to heart, yet she kept her doubts about this seemingly well held belief about the humans, "In that case Exarch, why do the Seers believe in necessary to ally with this 'Inquisitor', I took note that he was armed in a council of war, such events are almost unheard of, in my time at least." Jolinaar knew exactly why the council had resorted to such drastic measures, she sighed as her many years and responsibilities made their being apparent, _The council finds it necessary because we don't have a choice..._ "Another time Diciple, for now prepare youself for the coming battle." Jae realised she had used up all the time that her Exarch was going to offer, and bowed in respect and made to prepare herself for battle.

The webway port was a hub of activity, transports and vehicles were being readied by their teams of technicians and pilots with care and dedication, and the different aspect warriors went about their pre-battle rituals, Jae noticed a group of eldar hovering around a number of reserve falcon grav-tanks. An older dire avenger and a particularly strange looking ranger communed over the events to come, and Jae noticed some Reapers nearby, one of their group seeming to make towards the pair before thinking better of it, and she could even see some of the rare shining spears walking amongst the other eldar, she raised an eyebrow at the group, that aspect rarely slowed down enough to walk, let alone talk to other eldar, yet Jae had a respect towards them, their aerial displays so similar to the enthralling dance of melee she felt some form of companionship to the warriors of their temple. Jae went to approach the pair of warriors, her interest piquing with their conversation,

*"Ohh, and tell me if I need to run for some reason."*
"And please include me in said warning to ranger!"joked Jae, "My name is Jae, of the howling banshee aspect, I couldn't help but overhere your talk of the coming battle with the great enemy and your distrust of our new-found allies, I know it may be an ignorant question, yet I must ask, why is there such distrust amongst our kind for the humans? Our craftworld has fought beside them on many occasions, and we fight a common foe, it would be foolish for them to turn on us!" Jae looked at the dire avenger, realising that he indeed was many years her senior certainly centuries, "I dare say you must've fought with them on some occasion avenger! What say you of the humans?" Jae never forgot about the quiet Dark Reaper and couldn't help but wonder about what his own thoughts might be, and what in the conversation had turned him away from these eldar...


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Svent shrugged when he was asked by Jae why he distrusted humans, or rather why the eldar distrusted them. "think it's a matter of pride mostly, have our collective heads stuck up our colective asses about our acomplishments of the past. mostly just ignorant hate i assume, but it's not unwarented distrust." svent would reply. streatching out some, "i once stopped by a nice little world of theirs dedicated to the production of produce. i'm talking the entire planet was green with vegitation that they would consume on other planets. i was dere to learn, to see for myself, tink it easy to say i got more den i wished for. initialy dem humies were kind enough, when dey didn't see my pointed ears and i had a towel wrapped round my head to hide em. den them humans on the planet found out bout my ears when i was taken a bit of time to clean myself up and be all proper like. no sense smelling like a ork's ass if ya dont have to. initially they didn't care much. that didn't last long though. soon the lot called the imperial guard showed up, shot everyone on that planet dead, even the ones that i've never even seen, shot the lot dead just because they could have come into contact with me. ya know how many humans it takes to cover an entire planet and tend to it's farms?" he'd ask bringing his gun round to check it and preform basic maintenance.

svent sighed some as he found a nitch in his gun's stocked. "see, they're a fearful bunch, what they're fraid of is same ting we be fraid of me beautiful banshee... dey be fraid of dem warp boys something fierce, but dey be ignorant in their fear, thinking anything that aint them will lead em to dat foul place beyond de eye of terror or whatever the lot decide to call it. reason we hate em my lovely lass, is dis reason right here. we tink of em as tools and de simple fact dey dont do what we want em to do irritates us to no end. it's like a zogging little bugger of a pet dat you feed an care for, yet it bites ye hand all the same... but dey aint tools banshee, not tools in the least. they're people same as us, with lives same as us, desires same as us... the elders of our lot are just too ignorant to see that bit. we hate them because of ignorance, they hate us because of ignorance. aint do ya no good to try and understan it beyond dis bit right dere, i did an look at what happen to me eh? cant stop talken like a bleeden ork... den again guess dat's also because dey keep stalken me, kinda creepy it is. every planet i go to gets invaded by orks..." 

eventually working the nitch out of his gun with a bit of elbo greese, he'd finish off "but dont take my word for it ye lovely ting, after all, i just come from a little ol craftworld ye aint never heard of, an me experience dont count for nuten when it come down to de experience of our esteemed leaders an exarchs... i'd tell em dey're all a bunch of daft fools to their face, but i'd just get banished from this craftworld in the end, and sorry, but ya got a lot of cute girls here, figure cant settle down on me own world, may as well keep all the doors i can open. aint like i'm a blooming warp spider, tell ya, they're a bunch of bleeding peeping toms they are... take a shower, hear a little pop, an ye turn aroun, noting dere... bunch of bleeding peeping toms i say"


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

_"Oh was it singing flowers or dancing starshine"_

Eriel muttered to himself, while he stood up listening to the outcast slurred speech and answer to the Banshees questions. Both of them looking slightly confused at Eriel, from his statement.

_"Ohh sorry young ones. Jae was it? Your walk, stance and questions reminded me of a girl from my past. It is rare a young one such as you Jae ask so complex questions openly to strangers. And it is rare that a young one like you Svent, have formed so deep opinions._

Spinning around himself Eriel looked for his helmet and picked it up continuing the conversation.

_"Yes I have fought against the imperium of man, and I have been on missions to save them. Its true that the imperium of theres believe they are to be the masters of the universe, I just know that we blew our chance all those millenia ago when we lost almost everything. And my experience we are just as likely to betray them as they are us. If you need to hate, hate the institution of man not the man himself._

Turning slightly around Eriel prepared to join his squad, that had begun to arrive. As and afterthought he turned back to the two young Eldar.

_"I enjoyed out little talk, and I hope to talk with you again. The best way for me to secure that, is to try and make you want to talk to me again. So a question for each of you, which I want you to think about. I do not wish for any quick answers."_

Looking straight at Jae. Eriel asked.

_"If Eldrad Ulthran stood here would you have the courage to ask those very same questions or would you have the common sense to remain quiet. And would you fear his answer, for no other Eldar in our collective history have had so much interaction with the humans, or sacrificed so many of them to save our lives.... and one little piece of advice, if our outcast friend here does yell run, you do that because the explosion will be bigger than anticipated."_

Turning to Svent.

_"I do not know if I see you Outcast, thou I do hope I will some day. But you will have nothing to fear from me, you might help Ulthwé because you feel you are forced to do so, and maybe you are. Help us to the best of your abilities and ill consider Ulthwé in debt to you. And I would feel honour bound to be helpful to you, should you need it. And to my question, which is more something to reflect on. Maybe you should change your saying to *I see it*._

With these words Eriel turned back towards his squad, giving a nod in acknowledgement to the Dark reaper that had stayed on a respectful distance. As and afterthought before donning his helmet Eriel yelled back at the two young Eldar, who stood in there own thoughts and conversation about him and the future battle.

"You can ask after Eriel Sorthanar. Dire Avenger, Shrine of the Dark hand of Asur, if you dont find me too odd and wish to converse again."

With these words Eriel donned his helmet and joined his Squad, inside the waveserpent that was to be there transport into the Webway. Exarch Aldrakkan was dealing out plasma grenades for the squad. As Eriel entered the Wave serpent as the last, he began his briefing.

_Dire Avengers our orders are not very specific. We are to be held in reserve to begin with, we are to be prepared for multiple scenarios. We shall be ready to support the main attack, were the fighting to be harder than expected. Maybe to extract our wounded and dead brothers and sisters from the battle. We might be asked to intercept unknown reinforcement for the enemy, that will try and strengthen the convoy. Last we might be asked to intercept unwanted imperial attention, to keep our presence unknown on that world. Something our training, speed and abilities are better suited for than the black guardians and our ghost warriors._

With these words Aldrakkan closed the now empty box of plasma grenades, drew his Diresword rested his head on the hilt point downwards. Then he started the ritual of the Dire Avengers of the Dark hand of Asur, he started to recite the dates the warriors of the Shrine had been to battle. The legend stating that should the Exarch ever forget a date, the shrine would be heading for its final battle against the great enemy.

Eriel bowed his own head, reciting his own prayers, waiting for the whole convoy of Eldar to move.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*Update*

_Almost Twelve Hours later..._

The time had come at last. Deployment via the webway had gone as smoothly as could be expected, everyone was in position and Maechu could sense the approaching humans now. He quickly contacted every Exarch telepathically as well as his warlocks whom he had dispersed a short time ago to various guardian and wraithguard squads. All were ready, all were waiting. 

A low rumbling permeated the ground beneath every eldar`s feet. At the head of the convoy could be seen a desecrated armoured vehicle once belonging to the Imperium of Man. The corrupted Leman Russ trundled along slowly so as to allow the footslogging guardsmen to keep up. Already the Fire Dragons lurking ahead were preparing their weapons. Already Orlath was marking targets for his fellow Rangers to target. 

The first trees began to fall before the lumbering behemoth as it cleared a path through the jungle. Through the borrowed sight of a dozen warriors, Maechu watched, seeing his plan fall into motion one piece at a time. Ten minutes passed as the humans came deeper into the foliage. They were combat ready, but complacent. The warhost had made sure that their presence here was a closely guarded secret. 

_...Now._ Maechu issued the command. Almost immediately, three traitor sergeants dropped, causing their squads to halt immediately and begin panning weapons around. Moments later, more fell and one of the surviving leaders ordered the surrounding soldiers into the trees. The Leman Russ at the head of the column began to trace its turret around to where the fire had come from, seeking a target. Several Chimera transports further back had likewise begun to search but by now Orlath and his assassins had vanished. 

_Move in._ The Fire Dragons spearheaded the advance from the head while the Dire Avengers and Howling Banshees followed in their wake. They were hidden from the human`s sight by the tank itself. The forward lascannon opened fire, missing its mark as the Dragons darted aside. Moments later the gun was a smoking wreck as the aspect warriors reached firing range. 

At the same time, the Striking Scorpion aspect emerged from the trees east of the convoy and the Warp Spiders materialized just off the west. The humans were left with little reaction time as the deadly armaments of the spiders tore through their flesh and the whirring chainswords of the scorpions mat the crude counterparts of their foes... 

The ambush was well and truly underway.

_--- --- --- _​
Eriel, Jae, Arthuin: As the battle begins, the three of you follow alongside your respective squads in the wake of the Fire Dragons. You witness their efficient destruction of the human`s vehicle as they lead you through. Once the tank is neautralised, they fall back behind you. It is now your turn to shield them as you cut a path through the convoy. The human have been rendered largely leaderless, but they still outnumber you greatly. There are almost fifty of them bearing back at you. You can kill up to a dozen, but remember these are trained soldiers, not mere fodder. You won`t go through this unscathed.

Jaeriel, Othuen: As the battle is joined, you wait silently for a few moments before *Nestherael* stands from his crouching position and nods. Following his lead, you feel yourself shudder as you shunt through the warp and land in front of those who had begun to pursue the rangers. Through the initial shock, you are able to gun down a dozen humans between the squad. There are still many left however, and you are forced to draw your blades as the humans close the distance and assault. Your armour holds firm, but you are not well equipped for this style of combat. Nestherael commands that you hold out just a little longer to allow the Avengers and Banshees to make ground. But when two of the squad are brough down by the weight of numbers, will you instead teleport out of the fight?

Drasi, Svent, Shelwe: As the rangers had vanished into the jungle to retreat, the Dark Reapers had moved to block off the retreat position of the convoy. Thus far, only two squads have broken and begun to fall back from their comrades, using a Chimera to shield themselves. *Orlath* pauses and looses a shot, causing the humans to break and run towards the treeline. Shelwe, you can choose to have the reapers to focus fire on the Chimera. This will take far longer, and will give the humans time to close with the rangers. Alternatively, you can open fire on the humans but this will leave you vulnerable to return fire from the tank. Drasi and Svent, be prepared to react according to the Reapers choice. You can hold your ground or continue to flee. 

Carane: You watch the batle from far above. As the fighting progresses and you make several successful diving runs, *Raikenel* notices that the Avengers and Banshees progress has stalled. He is about to issue the command to render assistance, but at the same time you have noticed the situation with the humans about to overwhelm the Reapers. You can speak up, and the squad will help the reapers instead, or stay silent and follow the original plan of assisting the Avengers and Banshees.

Kendra: You were assigned to a Storm Guardian Squad. As you wait patiently in your Wave Serpent meditating upon the battle to come, the ten guardians with you are joined in a hymn of battle. The melody stops as the Farseer`s voice enters your minds, issuing the command to offer support to the Scorpions on the eastern flank. The transport sways steadily as it moves forward. When the ramp finally lowers you witness a massacre of human bodies and eldar fury. Though you know you will never match the prowess of the Scorpions themselves, you must instill your fellows with the courage they will surely need to prevail. Join the Striking Scorpions against the throng of Chaos soldiers. You do not have the armour or weapons of the aspect warriors, so will you choose to remain at a supportive distance? Or will you lead your squad into the thick of it?

Requiel: You have been assigned to a wraithguard unit. Your mind is joined to theirs on a level you are well familiar with as you await your orders. You can sense the violence a short distance away and your nerves tense as the farseer`s voice enters your head. He informs you of the staggered progress of the Fire Dragons and bades you to lead your squad in eliminating the armoured transports further down the convoy. Your pilot reacts immediately, bringing the Wave Serpent around on the Eastern flank and lowering the ramp. One of your three wraithguard emerges first, shielding you from the initial barrage of las fire before annihilating the guardsmen responsible with its own weapon. You can see where two of the Chimeras have formed a V-shape to defend one another. The wraithcannon discharge has alerted them to your presence. You can either use your own power to form a shield around your squad as you advance, or trust in their own resilience and conserve your energy in case the situation changes. No soldiers beyond the first few have yet moved to intercept you.


((oocALL: It is important that you as players be aware of each other`s actions. Some of you have overlappingobjectives and scenarios and you need to be able to react appropriately should the need arise. ))


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

_<Carane>_

With a sharp whistling noise, the unit's shuriken cut down as many as they could on their next pass, the desultory return fire which came their way was easily dodged and evaded, occasionally slashing through foliage and covering them in the slightly charred leaves, yet hitting none of them.

Carane let out a slightly restrained whooping cheer as she soared above the massed enemy and -looking back towards the battle- the ambush was clearly well planned.

Not that she had expected anything else from the vaunted Seers of this Craftworld, but to see their plan in action from the air as the squads moved seamlessly around their prey was nothing short of poetry:

Isolating and wiping out smaller groups where they could, outmanouevering the larger mobs and using their own numbers against them where they gathered, the tatics spoke of a lot more than centuries of experience.

Glancing around, the human infantry chased after the Rangers, but she believed that the Rangers would be able to lose themselves in the foliage...it was a clever tactic...drawing away the foe on a futile chase and unable to support their other units.

Ruled by their baser emotions and bloodlust, she was reminded that the humans truly were little better than prey-beasts, fit only for hunting down and putting out of their misery.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that a knot of enemy infantry seemed to be moving to threaten the supporting heavy-weapon Aspect Warriors. 

Not that she classed herself as a battle-veteran, but she tried to offer her assistance. Unsure if the squad was aware of this danger, or even if her advice was correct, yet often she had found that battle was the only true test and that plans could change in the blink of an eye:

"Raikenel, look down and to the side...their infantry closes with our Reapers who threaten their transports! I do not know if the Avengers and Banshees can hold the foe's charge, but the Reapers are surely less-suited to close quarters combat. Perhaps we can buy them some time and keep their infantry at bay whilst their rockets take out the vehicles?"

There was defintely a note of hesitation in her voice, questioning her own words, but still trying to help where she could.

[OOC: Wasn't sure if you wanted a description of this attack or not].


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## Goglas (Jun 24, 2011)

(OOC: A little late, but here it is)

The sun of Calleth was already sinking beneath the horizon when the convoy reached the ambush site, and the light of it was in the Reapers' eyes, passing through the tree branches and turning the horizon into a golden haze.​ 
The Dark Reapers were already crouched down in the thick foliage, a ways behind the Rangers, waiting for a signal from the Seer. Their position was not the most favorable one, but it was sufficient for the task – They must deny their enemies an escape route, they must destroy them all without exception.​ 
Shelwe was holding on to his Reaper Launcher like a lost child, putting all the strength and courage he could gather into his weapon, hoping it would shield him from the horrors to come. The light of the natural sun was oddly comforting, and Shelwe was glad for the opportunity to bask in its light. He carried a small prayer to Isha, the Eldar mother, and asked her to calm his soul, as she did so many times before. A thin smile spread across his lips. Then they came.​ 
First he felt the rumbling beneath his feet, then heard the rolling tracks and falling trees, and the footsteps of dozens of soldiers. _How coarse, how barbaric,_ he thought. Images of the massacre he witnessed so many years ago invaded his mind. His smile disappeared. He opened his eyes and looked at the sky, and watched as the Shining Spears soared above the battlefield. It has begun.​ 
Even before Shelwe and his squad could rise to their feet the Rangers were already running past them. The convoy was at an uproar, assaulted from all directions. Suddenly the Ranger leader stopped and loosened another shot, and the human lines broke.​ Shelwe's eyes flared open. They were already winning, and he hasn't yet fired a single missile. The Reapers' Exarch knew better; the battle had only begun, and already he faced a difficult choice. Some of the humans were already splitting from their main force; he could not let them get away. Yet others could put his squad, and the Rangers, at major risk.​ 
"The Spears!" said Shelwe in a low whisper. They were coming down to aid them against the human counterattack. The Exarch made his decision. Better to destroy what was in front of them and bring the Rangers back into the fight as soon as possible, than run the risk of being overrun. He would have to deal with the Chimera later. "Target the humans," he ordered the squad.​ 
Shelwe aimed the Reaper Launcher at the enemy. He could sense the rangefinders lock on to the humans, the missile pods sliding into place within the weapon. "All Who Love Life," said the Exarch and began firing.​ "Fear The Reaper," answered his squad in unison and joined the harvest.​ 
Mowing down his enemies, images of the Eldar at the Webway port resurfaced in Shelwe's mind: The blabbering Ranger, the questioning Banshee, and the nod from the Dire Avenger. _How odd,_ he thought. _I wonder what their names are? _​


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

The entire warhost was rendered unseen by the dense foliage that surrounded the narrow path that was about to be the scene of battle, Jae could only see her fellow Banshees as they edged themselves closer to the boundary of the forest, but even Arthuin's squad of warriors was beyond her vision, submerged somewhere in the green, but the almost silent footfalls of the soldiers taking up their positions could be heard by the well-honed eldar ears. Jae's helm lay on the trunk in front of her, the squad performing final checks on their weapons and armour before the iminent conflict, Jae made sure her pistol had a full clip, and that her sword was well sharpened, although she had looked over both at least a dozen times already, a warrior never grew complacent. The eerie silence was almost comforting, Jae thought back to the conversation between herself and the other two eldar before they had embarked through the webway, Exarch Jolinaar leading the shrine to war. Jae hadn't really thought to much of the conversation since then, having been far to preoccupied in preparations for the encounter, but the parting question from the Dire Avenger still lingered in her mind, what did the great Farseer have to do with the situation? If Jae ever had the chance to talk to the mighty warrior she would be most likely rendered mute with respect, but certainly she would not fear his answer! It was his duty to offer counselling and support to all of their craftworld, so why did she feel uncertain about the unknown answer? Ofcourse the great Eldrad had killed men on behalf of the craftworld, was that not what they themselves were preparing to do? And what is the consequence of slaughtering more of them to save your own kind? Is that not the very purpose behind battle, to slay more of one's foe than he can of your sisters? And then there was the outcast whom was from the outset most peculiar, a man whose life has been spent running from everything, yet always been drawn to death and destruction or been found by battle, Jae shook her head, the path of an outcast was not one she understood or even pretended to comprehend, to spend one's life amongst aliens and foes alike, separated often by the vast expanse of space from your fellow kin and support, such a lonely and devoid experience seemed archaic to the banshee. Yet the ranger had proven well knowledged with the workings of the universe, perhaps gaining an outside perspective of the machinations of the eldar and the other races that roamed the stars was not a sentence to madness as she thought, then again the ranger was most certainly mad, but were all warriors not? Laying one's life on the line for people whom they have never met, marching to an unknown world to defend beings whom would never know on a whim, simply because one is ordered to, the madness that lay upon the path of the warrior was quite apparent when Jae thought about it. A smile crept upon her features, well at least she didn't ramble on like a greenskin. 

Suddenley, a sharp order was shot through in silence to the raiders laying in ambush, an aknowledgement of approaching prey, and soon enough a steady vibration could be felt through the ground, and the begginings of the human column appeared, rumbling along in a primitive fashion, the soldiers woefully unaware of their coming demise and the dangers that lurked within the trees. Several shots rang out from the treetops, well aimed rounds that swiftly cut the head from the beast, men fell before they could scream, one even managed an extra step before the body accepted the fact that the mind was no longer transmitting electric signals to the muscles. But it was not long before cries of suprise and anger permeated from the humans, the men frightenned and enraged by the sudden silencing of their commanders, desperately looking for the foes that had butchered their brethren. 

All of this occure in the space of a moment, instinct kicked in, and the convoy reacted like a creature flailing about, assailed by an unknown attacker. The lead tank ceased and began to pan it's turret, when the order came for the glorious charge to begin. Jae had already placed her fearsome mask upon her head, the sockets glowing red, eager to see the blood of their foes. _I have become fear and terror incarnate, ready to strike down all who oppose the mighty craftworld, may they fear my howl,_fear and terror, Jae liked the sound of that, and she licked her lips in anticipation as the fire dragons emerged from their hideaways, their ferocious weapons answering the futile attempt at defiance from the tank monstrosity with lethal fire, and with a howl of bloodlust and thrill, the banshees surged forth like a pack of ancient predators, letting loose a screech that chilled men to their bones and shattered the resolve of even the hardiest warriors. The flaming wreck of the once 'mighty' war machine lay mangled ahead of her, but Jae's glee was for an instance replaced by a frown, if that outcast ever called her a lovely lass again, she would rip out his heart and shove it down his throat, so help her Khaine.


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

They had waited. he had done so as patiently as he could and as calm as possible knowing that they were trusting half of the attack on their human allies. Othuen felt sick to his stomach.

The attack had commenced and already their ranger allies needed support. 

Here's where his stomach would really feel sick. Nestherael gave the command and Otheun knelt down, bowing his head, taking in a heavy inhale and closing his eyes. He kept his eyes sealed shut as the twisted winds seemed to ignore his battle helm completely. It felt as if worms crawled beneath his skin, trying to find even the smallest of holes they could seep his soul from. He grit his teeth as his muscles were crushed. 

A lucky one, it felt about as long in the warp as it really took, only a few seconds this time.

As Othuen emerged back into reality he opened his eyes wide with a flare, stood on both feet rising to his full height, death spinner drawn forward. A pile of the enemy before him. Easy.

Monofilament weapons shredded the mass of flesh before him, but there were secondary, even third waves behind them and far too close to use the weapon again.

He and his brothers withdrew their blades simultaneously, all seeing the same situation and coming to the same conclusion.

Chaotic yells were swept away with brute force. An elbow to a face, a slit of the throat, shouldering away with his heavy aspect armor. He could see his Biel-ten cousin's face plate turning towards him sporadically, losing focus. He could tell he was looking at Othuen, waiting to see if they would stand their ground or fall back. 

Without Jaeriel even having to say a word Othuen cried out, "Ulthwe always stands its ground! We are the galaxy's primary defense against the forces of Chaos! We will never-"

He runs his simple yet still elegant blade into the gut of a cultists as the chaos worshiper leaps upon with blind faith.

""falter!"

He said this to all of those still around him, not just the Biel-tan. They all needed to be reminded of their duty as two of their squad fell to the enemy. He hoped they only needed to hold on for a few more seconds, either way he would wait for Nestherael's orders to fall back even if he was the rest of his squad mates ran away beforehand.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Sitting silently and checking his death spinner for what felt like the 10th time, Jaeriel felt uneasy. Relying on the traitorous mon keigh for a battle plan was insanity, and he began to wonder if the council of ulthwe had not just signed the death warrant of them all, far seers be damned. Hearing the sound of the rangers firing on the foul humans, he began to get impatient, wishing to kill these foul worshipers of chaos and be done with it. 

Seeing the Exarch Nestherael stand and signal for them to attack, he stood proudly, and nodding to his fellow spiders, engaged his pack and promptly jumped into the warp. The feeling of his insides being turned inside out seemed to stretch on forever, yet only happen in the blink of an eye. As he emerged from the warp, he grinned savagely at the look of surprise of the mon keigh warriors. Priming his death spinner, he gunned them down as they charged the Spiders, yet his practiced eye noticed that this battle would be hand to hand very shortly. As the humans closed in on him, he drew his combat blade, and with a flourish, promptly disemboweled one enemy before spinning and beheading another.

As he fought, he began to notice the seemingly endless flow of enemies, and in an instant realized they could not win this battle of close combat. Fighting on anyways, he felt his eyes drawn to Othuen, waiting to see if this warrior would disengage, or hold as Jaeriel had decided to. Hearing Othuen's shout, he smiled as he realized that Othuen was as reluctant to retreat as him. Upon seeing two of his fellow spiders fall to this horde of enemies, he felt a calmness descend upon him. Looking to the Exarch, Jaeriel nodded, vowing to hold until the order to retreat was given, or he fell fighting these vile worshippers of chaos.


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Svent had followed his appointed leader's orders and path as they waited in ambush for the convoy. His eyes already locked on targets of opportunity as he lingered in his hiding spot for just a moment longer. "What i wouldn't give for a few grenades. just two is all it would take for that overgrown rust bucket" He whispered softly to himself, his eyes locked onto the chimera's weaker points near the engine. All he had to do was stick two in close proximity inside it and then that thing would be roasting in it's own fire. But the others had confiscated his explosives... didn't stop his mind from lingering on ways to obtain said bombs or explosives to deal with that thing anyway. 

Soon the time came to deal with the apointed leaders... Svent's eyes locked onto the sargents of the oncoming humans. "Bunch-o stupid humies... Ya think they'd be smarter den dat" He'd grumble loosely as he fired a shot from his rifle. The Sargent he had targeted dropped like a sack of bricks, the troopers behind him splattered with the brainmatter of their leader. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the other two fall at the same moment. Already Svent tried to line up a shot for the last leader of the group, but a passing russ intercepted the shot shortly after Svent pulled his trigger, the round bouncing harmlessly off of the armored meat shield that got in the way. He wanted to wait for another shot, but a tug on his shoulder told him it was time to fall back, not that he needed to be told twice or anything. 

Snagging his rifle, Svent would bolt, falling back to the prearranged location. Svent bolted past the reapers, bounding over their collective heads before they even picked up their weapons. A glance back made him regret not sticking around though as he watched the reapers take on the humans that were starting to chase them. "Zog! Lads! Leg it, we still gotta take out dat tank dough!" Svent would comment to his other rangers as they ran. 

As they ducked into the thick of the Forrest Svent found his mind lingering on the reapers. and their primary target, the armored units. "Farseer, i needs permission to go back in. Preferably wif some explosive bits. Da reapers cant take out dem tanks if dey're worried bout da hummie infantry. Or do ya have some better plan for me and my extended kin here?" Though in truth Svent had no idea if the Farseer could hear him.


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Eriel and his fellow Dire Avengers was hiding behind the positions of the Fire Dragons, there dark armour making for decent camouflage amongst the shadows of the trees.
Eriel was focused on the battle to come, thoughts of the conversation with the outcast and banshee had been pushed into the back of his mind. The thoughts was on the comming battle, staying alive and keep his fellow Eldar alive.
The ground had been shaking for quite some time, and there had been a low rumble in the air almost as long. It was a sure sign of imperial tanks. Heavy, loud and slow but Eriel would never underestimate them. He had first hand experienced there destructive potential it was immense, and the massive amounts the imperium brought to battles was staggering.

A few minutes later the tank and the convoy came into sight, exarch Aldrakkan gave out orders making sure every one was ready to go into action as soon the Fire Dragons had taken care of the tank.
There had been no need every Dire Avenger knew what was expected of them, they were to cover the retreat of the valuable Fire Dragons, there numbers being limited they were more valuable for the craftworld than the more numerous Dire Avengers. And they were to provide suppressive and cover fire for the charging banshees that were to finish off the opposition.
But Eriel appreciated the alert orders of his Exarch, it comforted him to know that the Exarch was alert too and never led down his guards when it came to the men and women he led into battle, it would most likely save lives when the battle would begin.

30 seconds before the battle would start, Aldrakkan gave out primary targets for each Avenger and a suppression zone. Eriel was on the right most flank of the formation. His primary target was a enemy soldier carrying a grenade launcher. Even thou the weapon and the grenades was crude, a lucky grenade could still cause havoc in the eldar attack.
Eriel brought his catapult up, keeping aim on the enemy, awaiting the signal for the attack. 

As the convoy moved closer it was obvious the enemy was oblivious to the presence of the Eldar, which was a good sign for the comming battle, it seemed to Eriel the surprise would be perfect. Suddenly bodies started to fall among the enemy, it took a few seconds before the enemy was aware of what was happening, there confusion complete unable to pinpoint the direction of the attack. What Eriel saw next was the Fire Dragons moving in, there weapons firing in unison, quickly making the hulking tank into a massive wrecked sculpture of war.

Which was also the sign for the Dire Avengers to move in, nine avenger catapults firing there quick bursts of shurikens, each Dire Avenger killing there primary target. But the enemy soldiers was well trained, and there instincts and reflexes didn't fail anything, and they quickly scattered running for cover firing there lasguns from the hips. One of the shots hitting the Dire Avenger to Eriels left in his leg, making him fall over bleeding badly. Eriel crouched low and ran to his fellow Eldar, and helped him into cover behind a fallen treetrunk. The air thick with the loud cracks of the imperial lasguns, and the zipping of eldar shurikens.
Eriel raised his head and firearm above the treetrunk and loosened some bursts against the enemy, making several guardsmen duck behind there cover. But Eriel could not get any clear shot on the enemy, and the smoke from the enemy tank started to interfere with visibilty, suddenly a few lasshots came close to Eriel forcing him once again behind the trunk, splinters raining down on his armour.

Eriel reported back to his squad over the comm.
_"Fariva is down, wounded in the leg, and I Eriel is pinned down behind the fallen trunk on the right flank. Im attempting to but down suppresive fire on the enemy awaiting new orders."_
With those words Eriel loosened a new salvo at the enemy, getting return fire as a response from several enemy soldiers. Not good odds Eriel caught himself thinking.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Requiel*

Armoured fingers flexed around the grips of massive wraith cannons as the Wraithguard sat there in silence. Although it was not the first time he had experienced it Requiel was always astonished at the utter serenity he found when his mind entwined with their's. Each warrior had sacrificed all for their Craftworld, each had experienced death and the abrupt change when they entered battle, from patience to utter fury had always surprised him. But now as he sat there he could not help but feel small and weak, their armoured forms were nearly twice his size and although they were even more slender than any living eldar their very presence spoke of a terrifying and barely controlled power.

The squad tensed as one as he sensed the clash nearby, they had engaged with the mon'keigh. He began to feel the smooth thoughts form into eddies and swirls as a current of anger ran through the Wraithguard. The Farseer had spoken into his mind and they sensed the combat happening only a few hundred yards from their location. The Farseer spoke again, the Fire Dragons had already engaged the enemies armoured vehicles, but he and his Wraithguard were to engage the transports further down the column.

He felt the barely noticeable hum as the Wave Serpent accelerated and his three Wraithguard shifted, sensing the impending combat. He reached out, calming their anger, _soon_ he spoke into their minds, _soon_. Seconds later the transport spun smoothly as it came to a halt and the ramp slid down. One of the Wraithguard stepped out, straightening up as a hail of lasfire impacted on it's graceful form. Requiel was shielded by the Wraithguard in the doorway, which, with what seemed almost serene unconcernedness turned it's blank helm to the offending guardsman and raised it's wraith cannon. The mon'keigh's face registered terror for a split second as it's finger's flexed and he was annihilated in a spectacular display of energy. To the mon'keigh it had seemed almost casual but only Requiel had felt the silent scream of fury as it had fired.

he steppped down the ramp, the other two Wraithguard following as they began to move in perfect synchrony. He had to lengthen his stride to keep up with the long-legged construct and he cursed inwardly as he saw two Chimera's turn their turrets to face them. He had no idea what might lie beyond them so he chose to conserve his power and hope that the resilience of the Wraithguard could stand up to the punishment they were about to recieve...


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Drasi stopped and turned when the warp spiders appeared. Heedless of the bullets flying around him he raised the rifle. He breathed deeply and when he exhaled he squeezed the trigger. In that moment, he and the gun were one and the same. The blinding bolt exited the barrel and struck a man in the side of the head. His head was snapped sideways and he crumpled but Drasi was already selecting his next target. The rifle fired again and another foe crumpled to the ground. Drasi looked up from the rifle scope and saw the warp spiders fighting. One was wearing the colours of Biel Tan as well as his warp spider colour and then Drasi switched his attention to another one. The warrior in question had just shouted "Ulthwe always stands its ground! We are the galaxy's primary defense against the forces of Chaos! We will never falter!”

Drasi smiled before raising the rifle to his shoulder again and firing off another shot, this time blowing the knee off a cultist before a second shot blew his head off. Drasi switched his attention to another running cultist. The coward was fleeing the battlefield and Drasi put a bolt between his shoulder blades that sent him hurtling forwards. Drasi slung his rifle and drew his sword and shuriken pistol. “Let us show them how we fight,” he yelled and held his ground, waiting for the enemy to reach him while firing his shuriken pistol at the oncoming foe. He laughed aloud, the insane laugh of the damned before leaping forward…


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Kendra waited in her wave serpent, quietly meditating as the squad around her talked in hushed voices, ready for the coming fight. Kendra had been tasked to guide her brethren who wore the armour of the Guardians, civilians who were being used in a military capacity. They were all armed for assault, the Storm Guardians carrying chainblades while she had a witchblade drawn across her lap and a shruiken pistol in a holster on her hip. 

The Guardians were preparing themselves with a hymn of battle, and Kendra knew that this should help to boost their confidence, Kendra hoping that they would have enough courage with her leading them. She felt a presence in her mind, recognising the Farseer, he ordered her to take her squad to the Eastern Flank and help the Striking scorpions there. She opened her eyes, sending an acknowledgement back as she turned to the men she had been tasked with. 

“Brothers, sisters, we have our orders. We will be fighting alongside our brothers of the Striking Scorpion aspect. We will be victorious today, trust in each others abilities, and stick together as a squad.” She received the confirmation that they heard as they with one voice, voiced their praise to Khaine and the craftworld. Kendra smiled as the Wave Serpent lurched forward, heading to its destination rapidly. She stood, the Guardians behind her standing as well, as they glided effortlessly over the landscape, arriving at their destination quickly. 

The ramp lowered and Kendra marvelled at how well her brothers in the Striking Scorpion aspect had massacred the heretical humans. She looked at her brothers as they exited from the Wave Serpent, “Brothers, let us not allow the Striking Scorpions to outshine our abilities, we can make a difference here brothers, stick with me.” She cried as she leapt into combat, her witchblade singing as it cut through flesh, her fellows following her into combat closely, she hoped they would all make it out alive.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*Update*

Maechu saw everything unfold just as his plan had dictated. The rangers ambush had caught the humans by surprise, allowing the warrior aspects to maximize their initial assaults. However, as was the way with all things Chaos, their were naturally unseen circumstances. At a short distance away stood two warlocks of his retinue, witchblades sheathed but ready to draw at a split seconds notice. 

'How goes it?' The fourth man present asked. The Inquisitor was unable to see as the eldar psykers saw, and as such was reliant on second hand information to know what was going on. 

'The humans are not without their strengths.' Maechu replied. 'But the day will belong to us, of that I am certain.' 

'Good.' Came the reply. 'My apprentice assures me that our forces will not leave the area we agreed upon. If all goes well, this incident will be well contained. I would like to say that I appreciate your willingness to help us.' 

'Help you?!' The Farseer laughed. 'Know this human, I have watched the progress of your race and mine for far longer than you have been alive! Do not make the mistake of thinking I owe or care for your kind in any way. This truce is one of mutual benefit, not trust, and certainly not friendship. Remember that.' 

* * *​
Eriel, Jae, Arthuin: As your shuriken and blade claim yet more human life, you can see that victory is close at hand. However it is plain to see that the cost seems as though it will be high, as the shining spears have diverted to assist the dark reapers. As your morale teeters, you are suddenly bolstered by the presence of the Autarch Eldranna and a unit of swooping hawks. Between you, the hawks and Eldranna, you are able to eliminate the remaining humans and allow the hawks and dragons to engage the remaining vehicles. Describe your emotions as the battle rages. Fear? Thrill? Joy?

Jaeriel, Othuen: The weight of human attackers is beginning to tell, as you sustain minor injuries and fatigue. Sensing your distress, Maechu orders the withdrawal. As your exarch Nestherael leads you into retreat, you can hear the sound of a scream during the transition. Though ten of you teleported out, only nine of you survived the transition. Describe the last moments of battle before the withdrawal. Describe your emotions during the fighting. Were you afraid, exhilerated or did you enjoy it? How do you feel about the fate of he who just died in the warp? 

Carane, Shelwe: As the reapers acknowledge the incoming form of the shining spears, their fire switches to the chimera which has barraged them with multilaser fire. One reaper has fallen and Shelwe has taken a minor injury causing the armoured joint of his left knee to fuse. The chimera suffers under the weight of their missile fire as the intercepting humans are decimated by the charges of the spears. The two of you are well versed in your craft and manage to eliminate the last humans here easily. What do you feel during the fighting? Does your anger and hate increase, do you battle with fear or do you enjoy the bloodshed? Also be ready to react to the actions of the rangers.

Drasi, Svent: As the aspect warriors close and begin their work, Orlath raises his rifle and begins to move away. 

*'We`ve done our part rangers, now pull back and let the warriors finish this.' *

However you decide to react, you must move very quickly. Be aware that the shining spears are moving very fast and you may endanger them and yourself if you try to intervene. Likewise, your rifles are of very limited use against the remaining human vehicles. If you follow Orlath into retreat you will traverse the jungle the way you came and arrive at the waygate where Maechu observes telepathically. Alternatively you may stay and fight despite this being ill advised. How you act will have a bearing on your future on this path.

Kendra and Requiel: You will suffer for the loss of the Warp Spiders at first, but will be bolstered moments later by the advance of the autarch and following aspect warriors. One of the Wraithguard and two Black Guardians will die during this period. Following this, you will succeed in eliminating the remaining humans alongside your squads. How do you react to the deaths of your charges? Does the psionic backlash harm or otherwise hinder you? Furthermore, how do you cope emotionally, seeing as that you are able to sense their deaths on a much more intimate level?

All: As before, be aware of each others parameters and actions so as to better co-ordinate where it becomes relevant. Also be aware that your emotional reactions are critical as they will have a bearing on your future upon your respective paths.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

A lasblast impacted Jaeriel's left shoulder, blasting away a small chunk of his armor and piercing through to burn a small hole in his arm. " For Biel'tan! " He shouted at the top of his lungs, charging into the small knot of warriors that fired upon him. As he killed with a grace only the eldar posses, he felt the beginning effects of fatigue begin to set in upon him, as Warp Spiders are not meant to fight hand to hand for extended periods of time. Pushing through the fatigue and pain of his wounds, he continued to fight, pressing his attack savagely before leaping backwards and blasting away a group of cultists with his death spinner. 

Charging back into the fray, his blade passed through the throat of a cultist before he bashed anothers head in with the shoulder guard of his heavy armor. As the battle progressed, the exarch sounded the retreat, and Jaeriel reluctantly fled into the warp, hearing a brief scream before his jump was completed. As he emerged from the warp, he noticed one of their number was missing, and must of had a malfunction as he jumped.
_" Poor bastard... "_thought jaeriel wincing at the thought of becoming trapped in the warp. 

As he regrouped with his fellow spiders, Jaeriel could not shake the feeling of regret he felt at disengaging the enemy, and how he relished in spilling their tainted blood. Memories of bloodshed and battles past filled his mind, and for the first time in his life he struggled to remember memories from his past that were not involved in battle, and this truly scared him the most, yet in his heart it felt right.


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## SonOfStan (Feb 20, 2011)

As his Banshee squad sliced into the heart of the corrupted Mon'keigh, Arthuin felt his usually troubled heart grow still and peaceful. He slipped effortlessly from one stance to the next, his power sabre's micro-crystalline blade shearing off limbs and carving through spines. In the opening moments of the assault, none opposed the Banshees. The Shrine of the Harbringer of Woe danced a bloody ruin over the Chaos worshippers, leaving severed heads and sheared torsos in their wake.

As the attack continued, the enemy, desperate to halt the Eldar's momentum, began fighting back fierce enough to stall the Banshee's advance. Arthuin became embroiled in a battle against a several squad cultists, each wearing a leather mask made from the face of some unfortunate, armed with crude hacking cudgels and wickedly carved knives. He managed to eviscerate one of them, opening his stomach with the tip of his sabre, before the other two began forcing him back. He cavorted backwards, spinning out of the way, piroutteing on one hand and driving his heel into one of their jaws. He heard a satisfying crack and lunged forward, cutting the man from shoulder to hip in a smooth stroke. The blood that fountained from the cut splattered beautifully on Arthuin's armor, and his sabre hissed and smoked.

Knowing that his last stroke had left him open, Arthuin was forced to defend himself against the remaining cultist. Possessing more speed and aggression then his fellows, the Mon'keigh gargled out a war-cry and struck again and again with his cudgel. The blows were heavy and crude, hacking instead of cutting, designed to maim rather then to cause a clean kill. Arthuin tried momentarily to break free to use his shuriken pistol, before seeing another opportunity; he simply pressed in close, pressed the pistol to the cultist's chest, and fired. The monomolecular disks left horrific exit wounds as they exploded out of his enemy's back. As he fell, he managed to pull a greasy-black pistol from his hip. Arthuin took two rounds to the chest and thigh before he fired back, putting a single shuriken through the cultist's forehead.

The wounds were superficial, but painful. Arthuin winced as he heard his Exarch's voice in his mind. _Be alert, children of Khaine. The Autarch and the Hawks come to join us. _ In a moment, the reinforcements added a new momentum to the Eldar assault. Arthuin pushed forward, his pain temporarily forgotten, shrieking through his helm the Song of the Dancing Death, cutting down the paralyzed enemy that were left in his Shrine's wake. 

Together with the Autarch and the Hawks, the few remaining Mon'keigh were quickly dispatched. In a heartbeat the Hawks were gone, hunting the remaining enemy vehicles. As his squad consolidated, sweeping outward to ensure that their objective was secure, Arthuin felt the calm, cool sense of his spirit continue to radiate through him. In battle, he was himself; in destroying the enemies of his Craftworld, he found self-actualization, purpose, and most of all, absolute peace.


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

Jae brought her sabre up to parry the blow inches from her head, blood dripping onto her helm as she expertly slid the weapon away, whether it was from her own blade or her foe's she could not tell. Jae was surrounded by an ever increasing amount of heinous worshippers, their cries of war and screams of pain thickening the atmosphere to a sickening whine as her sisters and brothers fought the determined enemy counter-assault. The battle had begun as expected, the squad bursting forth from the tree line and bounding effortlessley over the flaming wreck of the chaos monstrosity rendered mute by the dragons. Their smoky forms and piercing wails the last sensations of many a man as shruiken and blade found their mark, Jae had laughed with glee as she cut down the pitiful warriors, the Shrine had turned the battle into a slaughter, one of the foul gods' ranks had even taken his own life rather than face the hysterical armoured being that bounded towards him. 
The blood of their enemies lay slick on the ground and the smoke from the fallen war machines permeated the air until the mortal men could see not beyond their own bloodied hands. Their ranks were rife with fear and terror, confusion replacing the stern leadership of their fallen leaders. They slipped on their comrades blood, ran into the swords of their hunters and slashed at each other, mistaking their allies for the swarming eldar, the chaos was glorious music to Jae's ears, her every move seemingly part of some choreographed masterpiece, the blood that spalshed across her armour, the makeup for the thrilling show. 
A loud clang reverberated through the air as Jae seamlessley changed stance to accomodate yet another assailant. As the cultists realised that they were wearing down her defenses they seemed to leap with glee, redoubling their efforts, Jae had to move rapidly between defensive postures, never having a chance or an oppenning to strike back, lest a foul blade find its mark. Suddenley, she sensed an oppurtunity, the increased impatience of her foes caused them to make mistakes, and as a cultist made a lunge for her chest, Jae effortlessley leapt asside and watched with a cruel sense of sattisfaction as the cultist's momentum carried his body forward. With an elegant twist of her body, Jae severed the man's limbs, twin fountains of his lifeblood burst from the stumps and his throat failed to produce any sounds as his mind tried to rationalise the unspeakable agony. Jae solved his conundrum by effectively severing the cultist's gaping head. The victory was shortlived however, and Jae's smile was replaced with a grimace as yet another cultist arrived to take his fallen brethren's place.

_Curses to those Spears!_, the battle had shifted once the smoke had cleared, the fleeing foes looked back over their shoulders to see not the uncountable army that mowed them down, but rather a lightly armed group that were heavily outnumbered and seriously out gunned. Within seconds the tatared column had mounted a barbaric charge, being slaughtered by the drove, but never ceasing; the Avengers were pinned down under heavy fire, and started to suffer casualties. The Shrines found themselves isolated, their kill zone turning into a trap where their brethren could not lend fire support, Jae found herself standing in the way of a hailstorm of projectiles launched from the primitive Mon'keigh weapons, and dived aside as the bullets ricocheted across the field. Cries and grunts replaced the screech of the banshees wails as the bullets found their mark, when Jae looked back she could see a geyser of blood erupt from the chest of one of her sisters, her armour unable to withstand the onslaught.The assault was meant to be supported from the sky by the Shining Spear aspect warriors in just such an occurrence, their weapons and fury adding to the momentum behind the charge that would decimate the Cultists' lines. Yet no bikes flew overhead and no Lances flashed across the lines. The Spears would not be supporting the charge. 

The teachings of the Shrine dictated that death meant immobility, and therefore to be pinned is to be dead or tempting death. Exarch Jolinaar had learned through centuries of war that it not only meant defeat for the shrine but for their allies as well, and she had no intention of letting her brothers and sisters be hunted at the leisure of their foes, so with a cry of fury for the fallen, she bounded over the measly barricades and lead a bellowing charge into the mass of cultists. The Mon'keigh were no fools, and they knew the danger of combatting the assault, and so the mass of fire was once more directed at the tide of aspect warriors. Jae heard the tear of bullets cutting through armour and the occasional thump of a body hitting the floor, yet they could not falter. When the two forces clashed, there was blood.
And so Jae found herself in her current predicament, the banshees had easily dispatched the first line of defenders, but were soon bogged down in combat against the numerically superior foes, but it certainly felt good crossing blades with the enemy and drawing their vile blood rather than cower behind cover and fall before their bullets. The melee was a disorganised free for all, with Banshees facing off against multiple opponents, always on the back foot but holding their own against the tide. After seeing her beheading of their comrade, the cultists roared in outrage and Jae felt herself getting pushed back under the weight of their blades. The lead of the group roared in anticipation, seeing her defence falter and pressed his advantage, his heavy axe swinging back and forth hammering at Jae's weapon as she felt the strain of every blow. The brute laughed as he attacked, his spittle spraying Jae's armour, _This uncivilised animal shall die by my blade_, there was a crazed look in the cultist's eyes, as he predicted an easy end to the fight. Jae smiled beneath her helm, this fight would be over soon. When his next strike hit, as repetitive and predictable as the rest, Jae let his axe slide down the length of her blade and forced it aside. With a swift kick she heard the satisfying cracking of ribs, and blood spluttered out of the cultists mouth with a thundering cough. Jae followed through with the kick, twirling around in a full circle like some form of harrowing dance, before thrusting her sword from beneath the brute's chin, impaling his head on the sharpened blade. 
Jae withdrew the bloodied weapon as the two remaining cultists charged towards her, she realised immediately that she would not be able to dislodge her sword in time to parry both of their blows. However the favour of Khaine made itself apparent in the form of Jolinaar; the cultists lay dead at her feet submerged in a pool of their own blood before Jae had removed her blade from the corpse of her foe. 
"Disciple! The hawks and the noble exarch Eldranna have joined the fray!" and with a cry she lept once more into the fight. Jae wasted a moment looking after her exarch before coming to, her prowess was paramount and Jae realised she had much to learn, but master it all she shall. And with the shriek of the banshee she followed her exarch to battle.


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Before Eriel got a response for his request of new orders, the suppressive fire on his position seemed to stop. Looking carefully over the fallen tree, what he saw first was a running guardsmen terror painted on his face. Eriel quickly put him out of his misery with a precise burst of shurikens from his catapult.

What he saw next pleased his warrior heart, the screaming and dancing forms of the lithe banshees had rolled up the guardsmens flank and was cutting them down in vicious melee. It was always a joy watching them reminding Eriel of his own mother, a Exarch of one of the Banshee temples. But it was also very difficult to provide fire support for them when they engaged the enemy. 

Eriel spotted another enemy, who had seeked cover in the mangled form of the tank. Thou Eried did not have a clear shot or view, he was certain that the enemy soldier was preparing a grenade to fling into the middle of the bloody melee. Eriel knew that humans chaos or not didn't have the same reverence for life as the Eldar. Eriel quickly analyzed the mans cover and throwing arc. He had only one chance and one possible shooting solution.

The enemy soldier heard the whizzling of enemy fire around his cover when he pulled his arm back to throw his grenade into the filthy aliens that had suddenly appeared. Something pulled in his arm but he didn't realise what before he had completed the throw, his arm ending in a bloody stump.
Looking behind him he saw his hand clutching the grenade laying on the ground, _"Oh s*"_ was the last words that came over his lips before the grenade exploded.

Eriel had a little smile on his lips, which noone could see because of his helmet, humans had a tedency to forget to think about cover when they swung there arm for a grenade throw.

Over the comm came the voice of Eriels Exarch.
_"Eriel you are to help Fariva back to the extraction point, so he can get medical attention. The rest of us will escort the dragons into the midst of the enemy column, so they can engage the rest of the enemy's vechiles. The hawks will support the banshees in eradicating the rest of the human infantery."
_
At the same time joined the graceful forms of the swooping hawks and the Autarch. There rapid firing lasblasters killing several humans within seconds, giving the banshees much needed close range support. The Autach beheading several enemies with his graceful glide through the enemy line, easily matching the lethality of the banshee exarch.

It was moments as these that filled Eriels heart with true pride, no other enemy he had fought displayed so much elegance in there fighting, true art, true poetry. Not even there perverted kind or the unholy forms of Slaanesh could match true eldar in the beauty of war.

Turning towards Fariva, Eriel helped him up and they started the slow walk back toward there waveserpent pick-up point. Eriel slightly saddened that he couldn't see the rest of the battle, well the dance he corrected himself. But at the same time he thought, let the young ones have there victory they deserve it. Eriel had felt victory and loss before, he did not need to watch it to an end to know this was victory.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Drasi nodded to Orlath when the Corsair spoke. “Just one second,” he said quietly and returned to his scope. He focussed in on one tank and breathed deeply, firing just as he exhaled. The bolt of light crossed the space between Drasi and his target in less than a millisecond before entering the armoured hull of a chimera and burying itself in the head of one of the crewmen. Drasi lowered his rifle before turning and following Orlath into the jungle. He darted left and right in an evasive pattern that even though he didn’t need he adopted for there was always the chance some traitors had become composed enough to form a firing line and shoot into the woods.

He broke free of the woods to see the seer hovering off the ground flanked by 2 warlocks wielding witchblades behind whom stood the human Inquisitor. The seer seemed to be focussed on some far away event and Drasi realised that Maechu was observing the battle field and giving orders where they were needed. Drasi had to contain his hostility to the human and it took all his self control to stop him from un-slinging his rifle and opening fire on the Inquisitor. He joined Orlath and told the older ranger of his feelings towards the human. The corsair nodded and muttered “you’re not the only one…”


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

And the order he hoped for finally came. His warp engagers were already sending spiralling forces of energy around his form as his exarch's voice slithered through the fight. He dipped back, the outside edge of the blade over his right hand slashing one mroe throat as he fell into the hole of eternity.

Once he was completely submerged in the warp, gravity became non-existent. The most interesting phenomenon came over him. He could see ripples beside him, but they were bright. He couldn't explain how, but he knew, not a feeling, he knew it was his squad mates swimming by him in the warp.

His entire body snapped back into focus with his heart racing, his lungs gasped for soul filled air that wouldnt come and he landed on the hard ground of reality with cold, cold sweat dripping down his face. Whether they were the warm drops formed during the fight cooling down or new ones altogether he wasnt certain. What he was certain of was the fact he almost lost himself in the warp.

His focus had been too much on the battle and not enough on the jump once it happened. Merely letting oneself fall into the warp was the first mistake to getting lost, and looking around his already appearing squadmates he found one had likely made the same mistake he had, but was too late to correct himself.

Any loss of eldar kin was wretched. A jagged slit in the abdomen. _Why were they doing this_, he thought for the first time in his life. _Weren't they dying fast enough already?_


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Svent rushed along with the other rangers, looking behind him every once and a while as the humans found themselves having a rather hard time staying alive. he didn't bother turning to shoot, he just kept running to get where he needed to be. as he neared the safe zone so to speak he wished he was still in the thick of it with the rest of the troops, his eyes shifting to their farseer as he came to see the inquisitor as well. running towards them as if to run behind he'd run between them instead, bounding with apparent glee as he tried to get himself excited for their next operation. 

but as Svent came to a slow stop, he'd look around to the others that were gathering at the rally point, and his heart began to sink into his gut as he noticed some were still in the thick of the fight. debating for a moment on whether or not to give assistance he decided it was now or never and soon began to climb a tree in order to give tactical fire support to those still fighting. even though the battle was wrapping up to some degree, there were still humans to be killed, and his rifle could ensure that at least some of his fellow eldar were safe.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Requiel*

The Chimaera's were still firing on the advancing Wraithguard. Requiel crouched behind them, knowing that their bulk would protect him from the heavy weapons fire being hurled in their direction. But then a command seemed to reach the tanks and instead of merely spattering lasfire across his small line they focused on the centre Wraithguard, heavy bolts of energy blasting chunks out of it's armoured shell. One sheared through it's knee, then a cluster of bolts found the spirit stone on his chest.

Requiel saw what was about to happen a split second before the spirit stone exploded. The remaining two Wraithguard, normally so serene and composed in aspect, stumbled. This was no physical explosion but a single wail of despair. Requiel was knocked over backwards by the psionic backlash, blood filled his mouth and he realised he had bitten his tongue. The experience was horrifying. A soul that had lived in peace for millenia, hibernating peacefully within the infinity circuit, was gone.

He tried to clamber back to his feet but stopped at his knees, clutching his head as he felt a brief tugging, the desperate, doomed soul seeking respite. He felt an overwhelming sadness at the loss. Then a shot impacted on his helmet, spinning him round and shattering the face plate. He pulled it off, spitting blood and shards of wraithbone. Leaping to his feet he drew his sword, and terrible as his face was, the fury that twisted it now was truly terrifying to behold.

The wraithguard, almost as shaken by the experience as he was leapt back into motion, they were within range now and the remaining Wraithguard opened fire, one tank simply vanishing as it was enveloped in the devastating power projected from the Wraithcannons. The other tried to back up, but another shot peeled the side open like an over ripe fruit and the humans inside screamed as the other turned it's blank featureless helm towards them and filled the tank with crackling energy. A few had scrambled clear and struggled to fire on them with their lasweapons. Shots flickered around Requiel as he strode forwards.

A quick slash cut a mans throat, while another was flattened against the side of the tank by a Wraithguard's boot. The final one threw down his weapon and gibbered, sinking to his knees and begging for mercy. Requiel spat in the mon'keigh's face before bringing his sword up and slitting the man from crotch to solar plexus, watching him flap weakly as his guts and life blood poured out...


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

_[I was anticipating that my character would be mainly backing people up so far (until such time as she needs to chase down stragglers etc), so I hope I'm reading people's previous posts correctly, but the Reapers seem to have got to a safe position to be able to pick off whoever they choose, instead of getting overrun in melee where they cannot win..?]._

Seeing the Reapers take a heavy toll of the infantry and with several of the enemy vehicles beginning to take damage, Carane turned her attentions to her earlier assignment of helping out the Avengers and Banshees.

Speeding back to the fray, she felt guilty at what might have been "abandoning her post" and hoped the others would forgive her. She still had a lot to learn, but was eager to help in any way she could.
The song of blood called to her, insistently tugging at her racial memories which were suppressed by the Path, yet she was already gaining the beginnings of an understanding of her species' constant battle against desire...for control against the mindless urge to just throw her self headlong to the fray, ignorant of loss or cost.

Though -if pressed- she might have almost admitted enjoying watch the enemy fall beneath her shurikens and the weapons of her allies, the demand for tactical precision and the keening cry of her Shrine overpowered such base thoughts.

With the allied infantry now sorely pressed, she hoped they were back in time to help even the numbers:
With a synchronised spiral, the squad bracketed the foe with plunging fire, too far away to be fully effective, but it kept enemy heads down, slightly wounding several enemies and coralling a section of outflankers. the fire intensifying, it herded them together to the main melee. However, they were now too bunched together to bring their additional numbers into the melee and also could not turn quickly enough en masse to bring sufficient rifles to bear upon the Spears, either.

With the human's organisation becoming confused, the catapults' projectiles whickered through the air, slicing limbs from the nearest squad, several falling dead before they even knew it.
She was surprised that she did not pity them or see them as beasts anymore (as she once had)...instead, they were a plague on the galaxy...one which needed to be excised and burnt away so the rest could live.

Swooping low over the huddled humans, several tried to jab her with their bayonets and one connected with her right leg, making her wince in pain asa she kicked out at various grasping hands before she reached and caught the hand of one soldier.
She had just enough time to watch the fear and confusion in his eyes -as well as the maddened bloodlust she knew would be there- before she smashed his face repeatedly against the front canopy of her jetbike, before tossing his unconscious form back to the ground, now many feet below.

The rest of the squad also seemed to be giving good account of themselves. As she turned around for another pass, did she catch sight of a Banshee looking straight at her, it's clinically efficient killing-strokes stiff with anger towards not the cultists, but towards her..?
Carane resolved that, if she survived, she would be sure to try to make amends for any slight caused.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*Update*

(ooc: If any have missed their post, just cover both updates in this one.)

--- --- ---​
Maechu suppressed a smile as the last of the human cultists fell to eldar blade. Beside him, he could sense the receding presence of the inquisitor as the human made his way back to his own transport several hundred metres behind. It galled him that the human had to be made aware of the webway`s location on this world, and the thought that this place would have to be forever sealed one day was not a pleasant one. Regardless, the battle was over, and it was time to gve the order to withdraw...

* * *​

All: _The update takes place several hours after the battle has concluded...
_

Eriel: As you leave the temple of the Dire Avengers, having removed your war mask and left your armour and wargear behind, you now have time to rest and pursue more pleasant ways to pass the time. You may attend a concert scheduled for this night in the Dome of Melodies Unheard. Or you may contact and meet up with others at another location. Your final option is to allow your own thoughts to pass the time. 

If you wish to attend the concert, you will end your post arriving at the venue. Otherwise post as you see fit. 

Jae: With the battle behind you, you can seek a more relaxing pastime. You have the same parameters as Eriel. 

Arthuin: Unlike most of the others, you are loathe to be outside a battlefield. You have the same parameters as Eriel with the following addition: 

Throughout this period, you are plagued by memories of the battle, memories that should be forgotten once you remove your war mask. You realize that this is not normal. Will you act on this occurence and seek the guidance of an exarch or seer, or will you ignore it and carry on as normal? 

If you seek the council of an exarch or seer, your post will end as you make your greeting to them in whichever location you deem appropriate.

Jaeriel: The battle is done, you have returned to Ulthwe and removed your war mask. However you are plagued by dim visions of war and bloodshed. You follow the same parameters as Arthuin.

Othuen: You are relieved more than most to be out of the battle and back home on your craftworld. You follow the same parameters as Eriel, with the following addition:

You remember nothing of the fight having removed your war mask, but the niggling sense of doubt has set in. You begin to dread the prospect of returning to battle, which is most unlike the typical warrior. Will you ignore this and carry on as normal, or seek the council of an exarch or seer?

Same as above, if you seek guidance, your post ends when you make contact.

Carane: Though no ill came of your decision to aid the reapers ahead of the banshees, you may still be feeling pangs of guilt. However, your memories are suppressed with the removal of your war mask and as such these thoughts will be postponed. You have the same parameters as Eriel.

Shelwe: _You have not posted. Finish the last update then follow Eriel`s parameters._

Drasi: Having returned to Ulthwe, you are free to act as you please. Several other rangers are attending the concert in the Dome of Melodies unheard, while others including Orlath prefer to spend their time in the recreation dome park, practicing marksmanship and sword arts. You may choose either, following relevant parameters above if you choose the concert.

Svent: You have the same parameters as Drasi with the following addition: 

As you arrive back on Ulthwe and make to leave the webway dome, you are approached by the Swooping Hawk exarch *Lealeterel.* She speaks words most solemn to you:

*'I watched you ranger, and I am not comforted by what I see. Such a desire to kill must not be expressed so open mindedly, rather you should focus such hate into a weapon of purpose, not passion. I advise you consider the path of a warrior, lest your passions deliver you into darkness.*

You can act on this or ignore it as you see fit. If you seek the council of an exarch or seer, your post ends as you make your greeting.

Kendra: _You have yet to post. Complete the previous update and then follow Requiel`s parameters._

Requiel: This has been your first real battle since becoming a seer, and unlike the warriors, you must remember every detail of the battle just passed. You sit now in the Dome of the Weeping Spirit, deactivating the wraithguard and returning the spirits of the deceased to the infinity circuit. The guardians have been dismissed, and Maechu stands behind you as you work.

How do you cope, the path of the seer is much more strenuous than any you have taken before. Will you persevere, or will you inform Maechu that your brief time on this path is over?


All: As always, be prepared to interact with one another.


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## SonOfStan (Feb 20, 2011)

Arthuin heaved a sigh and stretched sore muscles as he stood outside the exit of the Banshee shrine. He had left a little sooner then the others; the rest of the squad had been conversing in low tones, walking the stone pathways back into the main Craftworld at a slower pace then he. There had been something spurring him onward, drowning out his normal desire for social interaction and the satisfaction of conversation. He planned to wait for the rest of them outside; he had heard some of them planned on going to a concert later that night, and hoped to attend it as well.


 Leaning up against the cool wraithbone, Arthuin allowed his mind to drift to the battle he had emerged from only hours before. His minor wounds had been easily healed, and he was left with only a rather acute soreness rather then true pain. The work of the Healers had been excellent; they had spent only a few moments working over him, just as diligent with their craft as he was with his. They had promised him that whatever effects of the battle he felt would soon be left behind. _Like my war mask,_ he thought. _Soon there will be no evidence that I was in battle at all. I have no scars, no trophies, not even a memory. Having left the Shrine, I am truly a different being then the one that_


* carved open a whole in his chest, gouging out his rib cage, roaring a hymn of Khaine in his face, watching his eyes widen and darken, darken while his life bleeds out, his heart clenched in fist, beating and beating til it is dashed to the ground.*


 Arthuin felt his knees buckle and bile rise in his stomach. The image had been extremely violent, a blur of dark-faced and ragged Human warriors falling before a merciless foe. He retched, but nothing came up. He pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to drive out the image of


* his screaming face as the sabre slices across his abdomen, tearing a six-inch deep line, spilling his intestines on the ground. He falls to his knees, hopelessly trying to push them back in, but the sabre falls again, lopping off an arm, and then a clean stroke that severs his head. The head falls to the ground, staring up accusingly at its executioner. *


 His knees buckled so hard, he was forced to slowly sink to the ground. For a few moments he was utterly bewildered, not knowing what it was that he was seeing. As he dry-heaved again, it dawned on him with a sudden, sickening crunch; he was remembering images from the battle. He was the executioner, the unstoppable monster. Images of splashing blood and ruptured organs filled his head; he saw his bone-white armor covered in gore and raw gibbets of flesh, remembered the terrifying stillness and calm that had come over him, a calm utterly at odds with the destruction he engineered.


 And then, as quickly as it had overtaken him, it was gone. Arthuin rose slowly to his feet, gasping for air. He once again remembered nothing; the images were gone completely, and he had no wish to try and see if they’d return. He knew only that he _had_ remembered, and this terrified him.

For a moment he considered going to the Seers, or perhaps even Jolinaar. He quickly dismissed both. _The Seers will tell me nothing I can’t deduce on my own with time and meditation, _he thought grimly. _And the Exarch…_ He shuddered. The thought had already crossed his mind; those who remembered such things had been grasped by Khaine. Being able to recall the battlefield was the first step on the dark road to being an Exarch. Arthuin wanted absolutely nothing to do with that. _The Exarch might very well encourage me to walk that Path. Friendship is what I need right now; companionship and a song will do my soul more good then anything else._


 Touching the Soulstone around his neck, Arthuin waited a few more moments before his squad emerged. He saw Jae, and immediately approached her. “I don’t know what you had planned for this evening,” he said pleasantly, relieved that he was able to keep the tension out of his voice. “But I had heard there was to be a concert in the Dome of Melodies Unheard tonight. I’m certain that it would be an excellent experience.”


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Requiel*

He reached up and removed the Spirit Stone from the second wraithguard, returning it to it's niche and the spirit within to the peace deep within the craftworld's infinity circuit. He held the third and final stone in his hand, but this one had no warmth, no life pulsing within it. He felt an overwhelming sadness at the death of such a great warrior, but it did not last long and was quickly swamped by a cold hard rage. He envied the warriors for their freedom from the memories, but he knew he could not sacrifice them. He channelled the rage and anger into the memories, calming himself and instead felt an icy calm overcome him.

He turned to Maechu, a brief nod was all he needed, Requiel was not yet ready to relinquish this path, perhaps he never would...


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Svent strode out of the webway portals into the dome with large broad twisting steps as he weaved in and out of others exiting the portal. his body twisted and turned as he kept his steps light, watching him move was similar to watching a bored harlequin, though he wasn't just dancing a jig because he was bored like they did, he was simply trying to get out of the cluster fuck that was exiting the webway and go grab a bite to eat, because to be quite honest, he was hungry, simple as that Svent had the munchies. but just as he was about to break fully away from the mob, his instincts told him to jump backwards... hands moving to grab his sword to bring it to bare... not that he needed to...

a swooping hawk Exarch had made themself known, and despite the eldar being a well confirmed ally, it brought no solace to Svent's heart or mind. his eyes fixed on the swooping hawk, and even with the mask on of the rangers, it was clear that Svent suspected betrayal.... that his new found allies (forced though they may be) had decided he wasn't worth keeping around. 

*'I watched you ranger, and I am not comforted by what I see. Such a desire to kill must not be expressed so open mindedly, rather you should focus such hate into a weapon of purpose, not passion. I advise you consider the path of a warrior, lest your passions deliver you into darkness." *her words sank into Svent's mind like a knife being submerged into peanut butter, sure it got in there, but getting it out was a sticky and messy situation. as the Exarch turned to leave the ranger to his own devices he'd call out, even as other eldar passed by his sides to go about their own devices...

"YOU THINK I LIKE THIS!?" he'd shout to her, hands balled into fists at his side resting just barely from the hilt of his sword as they trembled... "CONSTANTLY BEING HUNTED?!!!" he just watched her walk on...didn't help svent though, not in the least. he tried to think of her words, her advice, but it just hurt his head. it wasn't that he was stupid or anything, it was more all of it, all the points, the very essence of the message sacked his mind like a thousand ork waaaghs falling to a single planet at once. at the core he still wanted his freedom, his wonder lust was something that he could not be rid of... but this turmoil, it had to be dealt with... the ranger would sooner put his pistol to his temple and pull the trigger than let it continue. 

as svent turned to leave, several rangers were about to say something in jest to him, svent just raised a angry arm to them, pointing to their collective helms. "not a word... dont say even a word you sorry gits... " the apparent leader of the bunch just raised up his hands as if to say a silent "ok, ok, we wont say anything" as they backed away and walked off. half the group going towards the concert the others racing off towards the park... svent didn't want to deal with either of them... and upon thinking of what he should do his mind throbbed once more. "where's a harlequin when you need one? i welcome their council more so than a zogging exarch.... " he spat, body trembling somewhat as he contained himself as his legs began to take him on a wondering path...

though try as he might, the words would not escape his mind, and to no luck of his own, soon became lost within the craft world's space and sights. "watched me? i was hiding and running for my life half the bleeding time the ponced up bitch..." he growled... passing several people just enjoying themselves on the way. letting out a frustrated scream as he rounded the corner into a dead end, Svent slammed his battle drenched fist into the wall. "WHY!?" he'd cry out, plea echoing into the silent distance to receive no response. "i dont like this. i dont like to kill, i dont like to seek it out, to ... ZOGGING SODDING PONCY SPARKLY EXARCH LASS!" he'd roar out once more as he smashed his head into the wall this time with such force his faceplate cracked, hands sprawled out over the wall as they slowly balled into fists. his chest heaving as tears welled up in his eyes. "she doesn't know what it's like! she'll never know what it's like.

a sickening feeling started to consume his gut as he glanced over to his side, a eldar no older than 20 starring at him. "ya never saw no one in armor so orange it may as well be made of neon have you?" svent would ask... the young eldar simply shook his head. 

"your colors are strange" the youngin would remark to svent... svent just retorted in witty kind "yeah well your colors aint much to look at either. ooooo i'm all black, i'm all war like... where's the blasted flavor in that?" the ranger would joke as he pushed himself off the wall. the youngin still just starring.

"you should seek out one of the exarches... they always give good advice." svent just stopped right there as the kid spoke... turning to him he'd smack the faceplate of his helm with the palm of his hand...

"it's the end of the zogging universe when a twerp makes more sense than most of the people i know... well, best go meet the maker before we all get sucked into some second eye of terror or something... be just my luck too, second blasted eye opens up right on the other bleeding side of us... gods why do the blacky's guns have to be bigger than mine?" he'd groan as he started to walk down the street, heading now for a location that was easy enough to find... 

Svent soon arrived at the swooping hawk temple, standing on just the other side of it looking out across the landscape towards it's grounds Svent dropped into his instincts, the very feelings and emotions that had kept himself alive for so long... but to be perfectly honest he just started being sneaky. 

the rangers and their kin on the path of the outcast were known to be rather sneaky, hard to find buggers very adept in the ways of stealth. and to be quite honest svent was no different. moving through the grounds there wasn't a single swooping hawk that became even remotely aware of his presence as he made his way into their temple. it wasn't long before he found his mark... the exarch of the swooping hawks. sneaking in the shadows above her he'd lurk for a moment or two, waiting for her current company to leave. his stalking was a patient one... yet always he was watching and mindful of his cover and his surroundings... not once did he give himself away, not once did he let himself be known to her, or anyone. his mind guarded and his will as hard as iron as he stayed hidden.

his patience did pay off however as eventually her company had left her... and she was alone for what he knew was only a few more moments. now was the time to strike, relatively speaking of course...

"ya know, one would think you guys looked up more often" svent spoke, bits of his mask falling from the rest, sprinkling below to the ground, his right eye exposed at this point. "So tell me Exarch... Tell me how one child of our kin can be so wise and knoledgeable. share your wisdom with some worthless fool who's tried and tried and tried to find a planet to just settle and relax on, give your wisdom to a ustless sap who's only goal in life was to find peace and surinity on some far off world and live out life in ignorant happy bliss. what words do you have for one who's desires and attempts meet only with harsh failure as time and time again he's hunted for years on end, never truly knowing solice... what words can you possibly have to let this sodding git's heart finaly know peace? and if betrayal is what you seek, because you just cant stand a ranger from lo'ranga, then take your shot... "

to say that the ranger was truly troubled was a understatement of a century. her words had driven him mad so to speak, well madder than normal. all of his anger directed not at her, but at himself. as he actually meant every last word, and despite the words lining up to sound condescending, his voice was clear... he was honest, and he actually did want the answers.


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Eriel walked slowly out of the Dire Avenger temple, simply smelling the sweet scent of the flowers outside and watching the stars play on the transparent dome overhead brought peace to his mind. The battle he had just been a part of, had been a success that much had the Exarch revealed. He also told that two of the squad had been wounded and was taken care of by the healers, nothing life threatening. That was all they were told, there memories of the battle bound to there warmask.
As he walked among the gardens outside the temple, he had this sensation that the battle was still in his body. That the warhost had spread fear into the enemy, that there had been wounded and even loss. He had no memories but still Eriel could smell foul blood mixed with the sweet fragrance of the garden he was walking through.
Eriel was uncertain what to think of his feelings, he remembered that he had similar feelings before, mostly from his days as a dark reaper but he had not been bound to that path. But was he to be bound to the Dire Avengers, he still remembered the small prophecy that he had been given by the greatest farseer in Eldar history Eldrad Ulthran. Someday you will be at the right time with the right weapon, implying that a major event in Eriels life would happen.
Looking up from his long musing Eriel saw a sign informing everyone of a concert tonight at the Dome of Melodies Unheard. Eriel decided to go to the concert, hoping the artful music of his people could calm his mind and spirit.
Eriel entered a fast transport tube(Or what ever they have of public transportation) and arrived in the vicinity of Dome of Melodies Unheard hours early of the concerts beginnings. Buying some food Eriel sat down in a nearby park eating and meditating over his situation, waiting for the concert dome to open its doors.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Drasi was in a world of his own, his mind absorbed with thoughts of the battle. Unlike aspect warriors rangers like him did not have the luxury of forgetting themselves when in battle. He tried to force his mind away from such thoughts and concentrate on what to do now but they remained, hovering at the edge of his mind. This was slightly unnerving as he had usually been able to ignore such things. He knew he should ask an Exarch but he had little trust of the Aspect warriors since his betrayal. He left his meditative state and took in his surroundings. He was currently suspended from a tree branch in the recreational dome. He let his legs slip free and half flipped, landing on his feet. He watched the other rangers standing in groups and talking and realized that he was different. Something in him had grown to like the silence. He preferred quiet. It was probably due not only to him walking the path of the Striking scorpion aspect but also the many long years spent alone, fighting for survival. He disliked the company of others and only felt at home in the darkness. 

Orlath approached him from behind. His tread was whisper quiet but Drasi heard it just the same. A lifetime of being hunted did that to a person. “What troubles you young ranger,” Orlath said quietly. Drasi turned and faced Orlath, his face impassive but his words gave away his emotions. “I just wish that I could return to my old life, be safe and happy. The constant hunting has put me on edge and I am in danger of falling into the darkness. I cannot mourn lost innocence, but I can mourn lost dreams,” Drasi’s voice cracked as he spoke. It was the closest to a confession as he had come in over 50 yrs but they both knew how much had been left unsaid…


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

With her beloved bike and squad back in their docking bays, all hads survived although a few -like herself- would need minor attention. With first aid administered between them, she disrobed to gentler clothing -a set of robes with her craftworld design subtly embroidered along the full length of her back, Carane smoothing back her hair, before tying it back in a long plait:

The act took almost twice as long as it should have, as each loop was accompanied by an item of jewellery to be worn; 7 earrings, 6 finger rings, and 3 necklaces.
Individually themselves, they held no particular symbolism -the items were easily replaceable, holding little sentimental value and also interchangeable.
However, the order of their location -not of partiocular items- was the key to the effect.

Almost like the motions and sweeps of battle, her motions during the aftermath were also structured and learnt-by-heart. Another race might have called them limiting, but she had never found them to be so...they were almost as much a part of her shrine as the acts of war themselves. 

With the removal of her helmet -the first item to be taken off- she always lost the memories of war...she was still alive and this was all that Carane the Craftworlder needed to know. With each item of jewellery and each tie, she also lost the desire to remember, making sure she left behind the carnage and bloodshed.

Unlike some, she had never dared to tread upon these boundaries, nor to test them. Perhaps it was out of fear, but she felt it was because of her trust of the Path.

A quick word to a passerby informed her of the concert. As it would be a change from her own upbringing of tales and saga's of family honour, she instantly decided to attend, passing on her whereabouts to another of the squad. 

Taking her time to saunter to the location, Carane was almost taken aback at the quiet. It was certainly a contrast to what she knew, but she wondered if it was something she could get used to.
The theatre was suitably impressive...she couldn't recall anything as impressive back home.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

After the battle was over, Jaeriel's departure from Ulthwe was a swift one, after saying farewell to the others of the warp spider aspect temple. Arriving back at his craftworld, Biel-Tan, his breath caught in his throat as he exited the ship, the sight of his home always stunning him to silence no matter how many times he saw it. Carrying his war mask with him, he had no memories of the battle itself, yet he remembered the friendship he had forged with another of Ulthwe, Othuen, and looked forward to doing battle with him again. 

As he made his way through the streets, he began to hear a slight screaming, and before he could find out where it was coming from, Jaeriel found himself stumbling into a wall as images of the battle assailed his mind. Sinking to his knees, he was forced to relive the battle from beginning to end, tears streaming down his face, as he remembered the death he had brought to the cultists. As the reverie ended, he struggled to his feet, hands shaking, and began to wonder just what he should do. Deciding on speaking with his exarch, he swiftly made his way to the temple of the Warp Spiders.

Arriving at his temple, he walked inside, and quickly found the exarch meditating. Kneeling before him, Jaeriel spoke. _" Great Exarch, although my war mask has been removed, memories of the battle plague my thoughts. I come seeking your guidance...."_ he said waiting impatiently for the Exarch to speak.


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

Jae straightened her slim yet elegant robes, twirling around before her reflection standing before her; one couldn't be too prepared for a concert at the Dome. Smiling and brushing aside a last loose strand of fiery red hair, Jae took a final glance in the mirror, taking the time to admire the image of a mighty warrior, returning from a heroic conflict, staring back at her. Smirking at herself, Jae found her eyes drawn to her war mask sitting amongst her discarded armor, the red lenses staring out at her, tempting her to don the mask and succumb to the fatal lust of war. After an uneasy silence, Jae let loose a low sigh, she knew she was not yet ready to get lost upon this path, oh how she longed to remember the thrill of the battle and the sight of her accursed foes pleading for their lives, kneeling before her in their comrades' blood; however this was not the way. The mighty armour would remain the sole inheritor of those events, those moments, those times when she was a god amongst mortals that dared stand before her, an eldar in its purest form.

A slight chill accompanied the scene as Jae stepped 'outside', or at least what passed for outside to those who lived their lives inside a flying land. _The temperature control must be seen to,_ mused Jae to herself, idle thoughts as she scanned the plaza that lay before the mighty Banshee Shrine, the garden that made up the plaza within the Shrine's walls seemed alive with energy, full of grace yet saturated with beuatiful randomness and freedom, a place where the members of her aspect could find sisterhood and a willing friend, no matter which shrine or world they hailed from, the garden remained open to all who had once walked the path. Yet Jae found her eyes being drawn to where they always were, to the agile figure depicted flying across the ground, a statue composed of the craftworld's greatest sculptors, who had spent years meditating on the single piece, for nothing less could even begin to describe its recipient; the mighty Pheonix Lord of Jain Zar herself, clad in the armour of her calling and weilding the unrelenting three-bladed Jainous Mor. Jae couldn't help but gaze in awe at the imposing form, the impersonation of ferociousness and the aggressiveness of her race, she had spent hours sitting doing naught but stare at the sight of the First Exarch leading the Banshees of the Shrines of Ulthwe. Oh how Jae longed for the chance to fight the glorious dance beside the finely honed weapon of death and wrath of their race, to lay waste to hordes of vile foes that dared stand before their might. For all she knew Jae had already done so, yet the memories were locked away; buried beneath the mesh of her helm. 

Reluctantly, Jae turned away from the might Lord and exited through the mighty gates that barricaded the entrance to the mighty shrine. Market traders' stalls littered the area, guardians whose bravery and feats in battle had earned them the right to make a civilian life near the honoured structure; lights illuminating from the inhabited section of the craftworld filling the dark night cycle with refreshing warmth, despite the slightly off temperature. Hearing footsteps approaching, Jae turned her head to see Arthuin jogging towards her; the eldar had dissolved from the squad, seemingly melting away from the conversation as if it were the taint of the dark.
“I don’t know what you had planned for this evening, But I had heard there was to be a concert in the Dome of Melodies Unheard tonight. I’m certain that it would be an excellent experience.” Jae considered his words, an almost impish smile spreading on her face, "Now who would've thought! The hero Arthuin himself, having just returned from the triumph which he cannot even remember asks the fair maiden to the dance?" she prodded playfully, yet couldn't help but notice his slight discomfort when she mentioned their lost memories, yet pushed the concern aside as quickly as it appeared. 
"Well, if I give you this honour, you must know that I won't be able to go easy on you at our next spar?" joked Jae with a wink, before making her way to the Dome, grabbing impatiently on Arthuin hand and tugging him along.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*I know I can`t enforce this, but PLEASE only read the Update tags that apply to YOU! 
*

--- --- --- --- ---​
_That night, in the Dome of Melodies Unheard..._ 

Eldar gathered in groups upon the lush grass of the stadium as the Dome`s night cycle began. The Infinity Circuit had engineered a beautiful dusk and a gentle breeze to co-incide with the performance scheduled. Whether by request or by empathy to the gathered souls one could only guess. Most had worn casual attire, but a few had deemed the occasion high key enough to warrant formal attire. These watched from hovering skiffs where they were afforded a great view of the entire Dome. 

The low chatter died out as the stage platform at the center began to rise, Spirit Stones glowing with radiant beauty as the singer came into view. Her slender feminine form was silhouetted on all sides by the glow, and her face was obscured by a veil that hung down from the headdress she wore. Her clothes were tight fitting and reflective. 

Though it was rare for a harlequin performer to travel alone, the few occasions when they did often resulted in the most spectacular performances of all. It was no small feat, no simple compulsion for a guardian of the webway to abandon her troupe, even temporarily. 

A soft beat began to sound. As it grew, more background music was added until finally the melody began to play. The harlequin`s body swayed and danced in time to the music before her voice finally left her lips and the song began... 

* * *​
Jaeriel: (1 of 2)



Your return to Biel Tan brings with it a burden you had hoped never to bear. Memories from battle have begun to intrude upon your normal mindset, a terrible plague which can have only one result if ignored. You have sought the council of your Exarch upon your home craftworld. his words are: 

*'Times of Battle do not belong on the streets of any craftworld, nor should they intrude upon the thoughts of your waking hours.'* He stands, looking down at you with stern eyes. *'If you can no longer hold back the tide of memories that shouldn`t be there, then your time upon this path must come to an end. To continue would see you become a warrior for eternity, trapped upon the path of the Exarch. That is a fate that no sane individual should desire.'*

With that, you have much to consider, but his next words weigh heavily as well: 

*'In any case, your commitment to Ulthwe is yet unfulfilled. You must return and conclude this campaign. Be aware there are options available to you beyond the path of the Warrior.'*

You are faced with a choice as you return to Ulthwe. Will you endure upon the path of the Warp Spider, hoping the campaign will resolve itself quickly enough for you to leave afterward? Will you leave the temple now, and seek to serve your obligation on another path? Think carefully, for there are many ways to serve beyond dedicated war roles. PM me if you need additional info. 


Svent: (1 of 2)



Your rant at the Hawk Exarch prompts a swift blow that knocks you to the floor. Before you can react, Lealeterel has her power sword at your throat, rendering you powerless to fight back. 

*'Your rage does you no credit, ranger.'* She snarls. *'But if you want to channel it correctly, this assistance I am willing to give. Calm your nerves, and be sure that this is truly what you desire. Once you are certain of your path, act. Come and find me in the Shrine of the Bladed Wing.'* 

After this she removes her sword from your neck and steps back. Her wings unsheath and flicker before you can compose yourself, and she vanishes swiftly into the inter-dome webway to return to her shrine.

You will follow. The call of war now screams in your soul and you find your feet moving almost against your will. As you travel down the shimmering corridors, you hear a song echoing through the Infinity Circuit from somewhere across the Craftworld. It is a song of Lament. A song of regret. But mostly it is a song of War...


Requiel: (1 of 2)



The burden of salvaging the dead has taken its toll upon you, but at the same time there is a deep satisfaction at some level for knowing that you have accomplished the task. The path of the witch was perhaps the most hazardous of all, and you are under no illusions that you risk your soul by treading it. 

With your task complete, you follow Maechu back to the central hub of the seers dome to relax. Following his lead, you lapse into meditation, allowing your mind to drift along the skein and passively observe the Infinity Circuit. You can hear the sweet song of lmant and war echoing through the matrix from the Dome of Melodies unheard and you find it oddly soothing. 


Kendra: (1 of 2)



You have assisted your guardians in removing their war masks and allowed them to return to their civilian lives. Though you feel no remorse for the path you tread and are proud of your abilities, you do feel some small doubt, some passing regret that several guardians died under your command. Once the guardians are dismissed, you travel to the Dome of the seers and insert the Spirit Stones of the fallen into the waiting slots of the Dome`s inner wall, there to be released into the Infinity Circuit. 

You may feel a brief communion between one or two of these souls, but the spirits of the departed are generally less coherent than those of the living. As you do this, you can hear the echoes of the singing from the Dome of Melodies Unheard.


Those attending the Concert: (1 of 1)



You enjoy each other`s company or converse among yourselves in the short while before the performance begins. And then you respectfully fall silent as the song starts...

The Harlequin`s song is one of Lament and Sorrow, but also one of War and victory. Her voice pierces your very souls and allows you for a moment to perceive the true beauty of the Eldar race. For as her words ring out you find yourself reflecting on the fact that even though the empire is shattered you still direct the power flow of the lesser races. Even in such a diminished state the eldar are the masters of the galaxy. 

And your pride swells immensely with knowing this. 

As her song reaches its crescendo, you all find yourselves drawn to her. An unnatural aura of longing and admiration surrounds her and you are deeply saddened when she stops singing and the music dies down. 

*'It`s too cramped in here.'* She says suddenly. The lights dim and she brings back her veil, revealing a perfect face, a true example of eldar beauty. She grins as she speaks again. *'I`d like to come out now.'*

You all find yourselves walking steadily towards her, utterly committed to serving her whims.



Jaeriel: (2 of 2)



Upon your return to Ulthwe, you feel an unnatural danger lurking towards the center of the Craftworld. You were not here when this began and as such were able to notice the shift immediately. There is a dark presence within the Dome of Melodies Unheard and you must make your way there immediately.


Svent: (2 of 2)



As you reach the Shrine, the singing stops. Something feels terribly wrong and you are not the only one who feels it. Lealeterel emerges from the Shrine entrance and beckons for you to follow. 

*'The Dark Powers have infiltrated Ulthwe, Ranger.'* She says. *'We must move quickly, lest all those attending the concert be lost!'*

You will follow her to the Dome of Melodies Unheard.


Requiel: (2 of 2)



As the singing stops, you feel a change in the Infinity Circuit. Something is ther, that doesn`t belong. Something very unnatural and disturbing.

*'No...'* Maechu breathes in terror. *'How could we have been so blinded?!'* 

There is no time to waste. You must rush to the Dome of Melodies Unheard as quickly as possible. 


Kendra: (2 of 2)



With the last soul released and your task completed, you can hear the singing stop across the craftworld. At the same time, you can feel a sudden surge of terror through the newly arrived spirits to the Infinity Circuit. There is an alien presence aboard the craftworld of Ulthwe, and it emanates from the Dome of Melodies Unheard. You must make your way there immediately!


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

svent raised a finger in protest to his beckoner... growling some under his breath as he turned to run after her, unslinging his rifle and checking how many rounds he had left. his close combat weapon bounced off his hip as he ran after her. "if you can get me some place high up, i can take care of the rest. " he'd reply, running after her as fast as he could. his damaged helmet fastened to his jacket's back. svent was ready to shoot the first thing that came at them as they rushed towards the concert. "just one thing, dont stick me on a skiff. those things are prime targets, shoot one, take out it's engines, it crashes down in a big ball of rolling death. i'd prefer not to be on one when it crashes down in a big ball of rolling death if you don't mind" the ranger added, his mind darting back to a small eldar settlement on a moon in a system he could barely remember. they were having a harvest festival, but the music attracted orks. the orks shot the skiffs out of the sky and the things crashed down into the crowds below killing far more than the orks did with their shootas and choppas.


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

_[OOC: Can change if you want]._

Eager to hear the concert, Carane had held herself perfectly still as the music began.
As a former Artist, for her the music was not only in the purity of individual notes, but their arrangement and the complexity (or lack of it) to suit the moods of both the audience and the composer at the time...the message they were to convey.

She had never seen a Harlequin before, but she had been given to understand that they travelled and performed in groups...troupes.
Dancing as individuals, but each as a part of something greater.

However, she could not help but be drawn into the spellbinding performance and had to use a great deal of willpower not to shout in exultation along with the joys of the dance.

She knew what it was like to become absorbed into a work, becoming so focussed that little else mattered or even seemed to be occurring. Yet this was different, something..._other_...

Then she recalled a story from her childhood, from the one who had later to be called Autarch Silver:
"They dance like dervishes whirling you into their spell and captivating you with their stories, but they virtually never speak...and never to deliver oratory.

"If they need to _tell_ you what to feel, they have already lost you as a participant and you will not understand their meaning."

Even as these thoughts rang through her head, she was unable to prevent herself from joining the others as they approached silently and welcomingly.

Her mind tried to rebel against her body's movements, her brow furrowed in concentration even though the effort may prove futile, looking around to see if any familiar faces were also trying to fight it.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Kendra stood with her Guardians, helping them remove their war masks and return to their civilian lives, ready to answer the call of war once more when the craftworld needed them most. As she helped them she could not help but reflect over the few lives that had been lost, the Guardians that had followed her into combat but had failed to return from it. She knew that she shouldn't blame herself for it, if she hadn't of acted then the squad that they had reinforced may have lost more Eldar, but she couldn't help it.

She had been their leader, she had been their guide, she was the one that had led them into conflict. She had fought well, but she should of employed her powers to protecting her squad more than she already had done.

As the last Guardian's war mask was removed the group left her, probably heading for the concert that was going on. With a sigh she turned and headed to the Dome of the seers, the spirit stones of the warriors she had lost safely contained on her belt in a pouch. 

She thought about her powers, and to the training that she had received on the path of the seer. She was content with her powers and she was content with her place on the path, she would progress hopefully, and before the next conflict she hoped that she would be able to be powerful enough to stop any of her squad members dying. The Eldar were too few in number.

She arrived after a brisk walk, entering the dome to find it empty. Obviously most people had gone to watch the concert, and those that hadn't were probably protecting the webway gate or doing some other task to the benefit of the craftworld. She opened her pouch, taking the soul stones out of it and placing them to rest in the infinity circuit. The souls she could feel had a brief communique with each other before they slipped into the Infinity Circuit to join the other souls of the dead.

Turning away she started to walk back, the concert the last place she wanted to be right now. However it would be the place she was destined to go to. Before she had left the Dome she heard the singing stop. It was odd, she thought the concert was meant to go on for a bit. That was until she could hear the terror coming from the infinity circuit, something was on the craftworld. Something alien. She turned and charged to where the concert was taking place, the Dome of unheard melodies, running as fast as she could to get there.

*"Farseer Maechu, the souls in the infinity circuit are terrified, there is something in the dome of unheard melodies that scares them."* She sent out a psychic pulse, knowing that he would probably already be on his way, though she sent the warning anyway.


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Eriel suddenly opened his eyes, realising he had been meditating for quite some time. For too long infact, he could hear the concert had started a beautiful voice seemed to linger in the air.
Hurying inside Eriel stopped in his track as he came inside and looked down at the magnificent stage. On it stood one female Harlequin, and even thou she was lithe and alone, somehow she filled the whole stage.

Her song of lament and sorrow filling Eriel's heart and soul with pride and purpose. His purpose was simply to serve this beautiful woman for the rest of his life, walking down towards her, Eriel fixating on her perfect symmetrical face, not really hearing what she was saying.


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

The lone harlequin stole the attention of the entire dome, her every move luring Jae deeper and deeper into the twisting story that was being weaved before her eyes. The sudden movements, both sorrowful and joyous, ripped forth memories from's Jae's past, memories of a childhood of blissful ignorance. Oh, how had she idolized the wanderers of the webway, spending hours each day as a child attempting to imitate their grace and skill, taking upon the path of the artisan with a sparkle in her eyes the moment she came of age. A guilty smile fell on Jae's face as she remembered her silent hopes for a roaming solitaire to recognize potential, and invite her to join one of the famed wandering troupes. Yet such childish dreams were now dead and buried; Jae's place was amongst the aspect temples and upon the field of battle, exacting the vengeance of her race, and for herself. 
A tear as alone as the intoxicating figure, rolled down Jae's cheek as she remembered the only battle she could, the one where she was not wearing a mask.

_Her mother hurries her into the building as the alarms resonate throughout the craftworld. Her hands tremble despite herself as she huddles amongst neighbours and strangers in the poorly lit bunker; sounds of battle drifting in from the warzone above. Loose dust falls slowly, almost lazily, down from the low ceiling as low thumps of heavy weapons shake the very wraithbone of the building; whether heavy artillery impacting nearby or ship-borne weapons targeting the craftworld itself was impossible to tell. Younglings whimpered, failing to comprehend what evil force would strike at their home, while elderly stared at the wall blankly, reliving torturous memories of previous fights with each hammering vibration. Her mother's face was wet from weeping, from rushed goodbyes with a father who had been called to don his mask; her father was a hero and the mightiest warrior of them all, but his daughter sat cowering below? She had failed him, *was* failing him, bringing shame upon his name; she longed to be up there with him, to show him that she was *his* daughter: but mother held her hand tightly. _

Jae shuddered as the pitch of the harlequin's tune reached a height that she believed impossible, her eardrums felt like they would burst, yet it would be worth hearing the enthralling note.

_A sudden, violent quake shattered the momentary silence from above, and emergency lights flickered on and off; their ancient systems poorly maintained as the craftworld weathered the assault. She felt her mother's hand loosen as she lent aid to the younger-ones, and a devilish grinned accompanied her silent footsteps. The other's didn't see her race up the stairs to slip away through the gate to the world beyond; curiosity greeted by an alien landscape, her home rendered rubble and flattened by finished conflict. Yet she had to find him, and sounds of scattered battles were her guide._

Jae gasped, her breath caught in her lungs, her body unwilling to function less it break the perfect silence in the dance as the harlequin moved in flow to a music only she could hear.

_Bodies. Mutilate, torn, twisted. Litterd amongst the wreckage like some chew toy of the gods, she had not known them for what they were had the soulstones not been sitting amongst the puddles of pounded flesh and bone. She had gagged and lost her stomach, but the smell grew omnipresent and the faceless corpses soon lost their horror as their numbers became too much for her to count, if she could discern some from others at all. But then she found him, his sleek black armour shrugging aside fire as if it were nothing but an annoyance. Shards of death and destruction spewing forth from his cannon as he and his brethren cornered their doomed prey.Screams for mercy, cries of agony, all assailed her senses as he cut them down, one and all. He was invincible, and unstoppable; and she was his daughter._

The harlequin began to sing as even the background whir of the eternal world around her became silent in awe. A beautiful sound of perfection told of great sorrow and loss, of fallen heroes and loved ones lost. Jae felt herself tumbling, her legs quivering before her feet as the entire crowd began to move as one to the beautiful music, as one with the perfect face.

_She cried his name as tears mixed with the pool of blood at her feet. The hilt of the blade jutting from his chest as she tried to wake him up. She had ran forward, her admiration for the incarnate of all she hoped to be filling her with pride. He had screamed, yelled at her; told her to run and to hide. But she didn't listen, she wanted to make him proud, not to cower away; she was old enough to look after herself! And then they had come from the cracks and the gutters, from the sewers and the slums, the deamons and the crazed swarmed around them; he fought them all. Now he lay before her, his blood splattered across her face as his comrades desperately pulled her away, leaving all but his soul stone behind.
He was her father..._

This was wrong...what was? She knew something wasn't right, but it casually evaded her unsteady grasp. Besides, whatever it was it could not be as important as the music. The beautiful music that filled her every nerve with pain and pleasure, her body was at its whims, and there was nothing bad about that.

And a portion of her screamed in defiance from a hidden part of her mind, but all the cries and warnings fell on death ears: something was wrong.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Drasi entered the dome slowly. He kept to the shadows, wrapping them around him like a cloak. None saw him enter and none noticed when he stood at the very back of the concert hall. The Harlequin stepped onto the podium and began to dance. Drasi shielded himself from the temptations to join her although many others did not and approached the stage slowly. Images flashed before Drasi’s eyes of his time as a striking scorpion. He kept them away through sheer force of will and continued to listen. Despite his efforts to the contrary he began to remember…

_Drasi leapt forward. He swung his blade in an arc and the man before him collapsed without a sound. Pausing to wipe off the blood that was dripping from the tip of his knife he then tread ever closer to his goal. His team moved behind him, the Exarch fighting a battle a few miles away and so Drasi had been given command. He sheathed his combat knife and drew his scorpion chainsword. The blade whined as he activated it but then changed into a steady purr that was lost in the myriad of noises echoing through the jungle. He slipped between a pair of pitiful humans, the last thing either of them saw the beast like visage of his visor as he rammed the chainsword home.

He was just slipping the whirring teeth of his chainsword in between the ribs of a terrified sentry, saying quietly “you brought this upon yourself,” when his target appeared. Drasi withdrew the blade and wiped it clean before sheathing it. He took the blade of his Exarch from the sheath on his back and gripped the hilt. He removed his helmet and kissed the blade, whispering “may the scorpion guide my blade.” He crept forward and raised the chainblade. He paused for a second, savouring the triumph. In that moment Akkarin stepped forward. His armoured foot landed on a twig and snapped it. In that second the fates turned Drasi’s thread from gold to black. The men turned and quick as a flash Drasi lunged forward. His whirring blade sliced into his target’s heart but the element of surprise was gone. The guards opened fire and alarms went off everywhere. Drasi’s team mates leapt on the guards and reduced them to hunks of bloody flesh in seconds.

Laser targeters painted Drasi’s chest red and he dropped. Most missed but one shell smashed into his back and knocked the breath from his lungs. “Run!” he roared. He climbed to his feet and drew his pistol, opening fire to give his squad mates time to escape. Shells smashed into his heavy plate armour but he refused to fall. 6 of his 7 squad mates were cut down, the only 2 scorpions still standing being Drasi and Akkarin. The younger warrior had frozen in fear and Drasi shouted at him. He tackled the warrior to the ground to save him from the deadly attentions of an autocannon team. He picked himself up and dragged Akkarin up by the collar of his armour. He threw him deeper into the forest and moved to follow him but one of the autocannon shots slammed into his back. He was spun around by the impact and was flung forwards. Consciousness left him and the world fell into blackness…
_
Drasi shook his head, scattering the memories and was surprised to find that he had left the protection of the shadows to walk towards the harlequin. He tried to stop, his brow furrowing in concentration but he had no control over his own actions. After a minute of struggling while he drew closer he stopped himself and his hand flew to the small dagger concealed in a fold of his camo cloak. His arm flicked out and the blade flew forwards before being caught by a sleepy eyed aspect warrior who dropped the blade before continuing. Drasi found that he was being dragged forward once more despite all his considerable willpower being focussed to the contrary…


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Requiel*

The souls slipped back into their rest in the wraithbone, each sliver of life dropping into the eternal flow of life in the eternity circuit. Despite the strains the task had placed upon his mind, there was an undeniably satisfactory feeling at a task completed. He followed Maechu into the centre of the dome, sitting and crossing his legs, allowing his mind to lapse into meditation.

As he felt the cares of the world flow away and the aches of his body fade he allowed his detached mind to flow out of his body and into the at once fragile and indestructable skein of the infinity circuit. As he passively observed the flow of souls and knowledge through the arteries of the craftworld he felt, rather than heard the music flowing out from the Dome of Melodies Unheard, feeling them soothe his body and calm his mind in what, were it not for their qualities, would have been an unnerving experience.

___________________________________________________________

Requiel felt his mind surface from the trance that had consumed it as the melodies ended. But it wasn't the only thing that had awakened him, something dark had appeared, something wrong and unnatural had entered the infinity circuit. The prescence was shadowy and subtle, but it's existence was painful, so wrong that the flow itself was disturbed and it pressed in upon his mind as he struggled to escape from the infinity circuit.

He opened his eyes, Maechu was already standing, his eyes wide in terror, 'No...', he breathed in terror. 'How could we have been so blinded?!' Requiel lept to his feet, following Maechu as robes billowing he sprinted from the dome, feeling the seers panic infect him as they hurtled towards the Dome of Melodies Unheard...


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

After Jaeriel spoke to the exarch, he continued kneeling in silence, hoping the great warrior would grant him words of wisom. _'Times of Battle do not belong on the streets of any craftworld, nor should they intrude upon the thoughts of your waking hours. _The Exarch said to him, before standing._'If you can no longer hold back the tide of memories that shouldn`t be there, then your time upon this path must come to an end. To continue would see you become a warrior for eternity, trapped upon the path of the Exarch. That is a fate that no sane individual should desire.'_

As Jaeriel looked up at the Exarch, he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the Exarch spoke again, and Jaeriel held his tongue._'In any case, your commitment to Ulthwe is yet unfulfilled. You must return and conclude this campaign. Be aware there are options available to you beyond the path of the Warrior.'_ Nodding his head, Jaeriel stood, crosing his arms. "_I pledged myself to fight for Ulthwe as a Warp spider, and I shall return as such. Thank you for your words of wisdom"_ he said to the Exarch, bowing before turning and leaving the temple. 

As Jaeriel walked the streets of his Craftworld, lost in thought, he found he had unconsciously walked to the temple of the Dark Reapers. Standing in front, he was reminded of his father as he watched the dark armored warriors go in and out. Sighing, he looked down at his warmask. If this campaign was not resolved quickly, he would be forever trapped on the path of the Warp Spider. His mind made up, Jaeriel made his way to the shuttle bay, ready to return to Ulthwe.

As he exited the shuttle, he suddenly felt a presence coming from somewhere in the center of the craftworld. Cold and evil, he felt this "being" coming from the Dome of Melodies Unheard. Priming his death spinner, he began sprinting for the Dome, ready to bring death to whatever foul thing had desecrated this craftworld.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

The Harlequin smiled sweetly as her adoring fans approached the low stage, the first of them even now climbing up to be closer to her. A young eldar male was the first to reach her, throwing his arms around her in a loving embrace. Those shortly behind him looked on in envy as she hugged him back. She stepped back, meeting his eyes through her concealing veil before a hand left his and raised to the veil`s top. 

There was a mass intake of breath as the veil left her face and the full extent of her beauty became apparent. Enchanting green eyes looked out over them from a porcelain face of smoothest flesh. She grinned, revealing her perfect teeth and in that instant her expression became far more sinister. 

Only now did the enthralled eldar begin to realize something was wrong. They hesitated now, and the unfortunate individual in her grip began to pull away. 

'Oh?' She said, a slightly unnatural edge to her voice. 'But I thought you all adored me?' 

She looked out over the crowd. 'KNEEL!' She roared, the tone of her voice becoming that of a raging monster. 

Screams broke out as the eldar fought their own bodies to resist the harlequin`s influence. She turned to the terrified young boy now caught in her unnaturally strong hands and her grin became impossibly wide. 

'You`re going to love me!' She shouted, before her tongue shot from her mouth and curled around his neck. His cry of pain and terror was silenced as her mouth distended impossibly wide and enveloped his face. She bit down and the sickening sound of the poor eldar`s skull giving way could be heard. Not satisfied with simply taking his life, she lowered the headless corpse and pulled the waystone from its place around his stumped neck. Discarding the cadaver with an air of disdain, she gazed at the glowing gem with rapturous joy. 

'Oh, these are so hard to get these days!' She giggled excitedly. 'Master will love me for sure if I bring these home to him!' 

At this point shouting could be heard and an incantation sounded among them. Right at that moment a blast of energy tore through the air and impacted the harlequin with a powerful explosion. 

With this some of the trapped eldar were finally able to free themselves from her spell and almost immediately they were able to flee. Maechu, flanked by his two warlock apprentices, approached steadily. 

Requiel and Kendra, describe your state of mind thus far. Can you yet sense the identity of the intruder?

As the venerable farseer approached, there could be seen smoke coming from the charred remnants of what was once a harlequin. Maechu bade his warlocks wait as he approached the stage by himself with witchblade in hand. Energy crackled from the weapon as well as his eyes and hands, ready at a moment`s notice to strike again. 

He was completely unprepared for the unseen blast that threw him back from the stage. He landed heavily on the hard ground, driving the breath from his lungs. 

_Not that easily I`m afraid..._ 

The ghostly voice was heard by all and in an instant the pile of ruined flesh tore apart and reformed into a creature somehow three times the height of the harlequin it had been moments before. 

'You`ll have to do much better.' The lips that formed these words were, if anything, even more beautiful than those it had possessed earlier. 'And now, you all belong to me.' With these words its form finally resolved, a creature of violet hue bearing an alluring femenine shape and bulbous green eyes. Its head sported a full head of hair which took the form of spined wavy quills that swayed with its every movement. It wore no clothes and had no identifyable features upon its perfectly shaded skin. 

With a laugh and a flex of its sharpened talons, it advanced towards the dazed farseer... 


Those who attended the concert: You are all without your weapons and still suffering limited effects of the daemon`s enchantment. When you see Maechu struck down, how do you react? You can put your trust in the warlocks and other newly arrived to protect him, or you can attempt to distract the daemon in some way. Also bear in mind that there are still many in the audience that have not broken free of the daemon`s influence.

In any case, you have to survive, so if fleeing is your only option so be it. It would also be prudent to see to the safety of as many others as you can. Some may still resist your aid, so use limited violence if necessary to protect them from their own misguided desires. 

Kendra and Requiel: Maechu lays prone and dazed from the daemon`s attack. As it approaches you are forced to act. Will you fight, or merely try to move the farseer out of harm`s way? You may call any of the others for aid if things get deperate, but keep in mind that most of them are not armed or armoured. 

Also take note of Svent`s update below.

Jaeriel: As you arrive in the dome, you witness the beginning of the fight as the daemon takes on its massive form. Your Warp Jump pack will not be able to make that distance in less than two jumps, meaning you will be forced to make several smaller jumps while allowing for cooldown. Also of concern is that you have not had the opportunity to don your war mask and what you do here will stay within your waking memory. The crowd of enchanted ledar will attempt to stop you on your path to the daemon. Unfortunately, the daemon`s destruction outweighs their survival...

Unwanted deaths should be avoided, but the crowd is flailing and desperate. You walk a fine line here Jaeriel and guilt is not something an eldar handles well. Be careful with your actions here.

Svent:

*'Very well.'* The exarch replies and activates her wings. She grips you by the collar of your robe and deposits you a minute later upon a high balcony near the stadium`s edge. From here you just witnessed everything. The daemon now strides towards Maechu while Lealeterel swoops in from where she left you. You can see that she will not reach them in time so it falls to you to do what you can. 

An initial shot will inform the warlocks of your presence. After this, you can receive commands telepathically and co-ordinate attacks between you. Assume the Hawk exarch will not reach them before the next update for whatever reason.


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Svent spun on his heel once he was set down and threw himself into a sniping position with decent cover, not even waiting for the swooping hawk to leave before he started blasting away with his rifle. poorly aimed shots these were not, each shot had a purpose, each shot had a target, and each shot well, was a shot in itself. Svent pulled the trigger with vigor and extreme focus, lining up each shot as best he could before he fired. that being said the Eldar's own little perception of time and space helped him here compared to the standard views of a human. his heart beat fast and hard and he forced his mind to enter a state where adrenaline was pumping through his body. time itself seemed to slow as the ranger unleashed a barbaric onslaught of sniper fire from his position to the point some may wonder if he had a vendetta against this particular demon. 

Svent did not relent, he did not pause for a single moment. he kept firing until he could fire no more, pulling the trigger until he was forced to reload, something that he did with speed and intensity that was unrelenting and followed through to firing his rifle once more. 

Svent sent the first round as a mere distraction, the shot aimed perfectly taking into account the demon's current speed and "unnatural" rate of acceleration it was capable of. the shot zinging mere inches from the tip of the demon's nose if all things went right, if he was off and the demon decided to dash, that shot would impact the side of the demon's head. not killing it outright, it was a freaking demon after all, but if done right, it would distract it, or if it hit, piss it off. his next shot was deliberate,aimed straight for the demon's center of mass if it decided to turn to face him, or turn in general to see where the shot had come from, timed to the point that if the demon turned it would impact right when the turning motion was about to finish, if the demon didn't investigate, it would hopefully hit the shoulder. the fury of shots would not stop, each one carefully placed and accounted for. his third was aimed for the face. but his fourth, fifth, sixth, so on so forth shots, were meant to do one thing and one thing only... kill that son of a bitch! not that killing it would be easy or simply just "happen". didn't mean that the ranger wouldn't be pumping that particular demon full of rounds though. 

Svent had thrown caution out the window, he wasn't following the normal sniper motto of fire once, relocate, he was just pulling the trigger and pumping as many rounds as he could into her and he wasn't planning on relenting his barbaric sniper assault any time soon, not that his rifle would be in working condition after this fight anyway, after this fight, Svent would be genuinely surprised if the rifle wasn't molten slag... but it was worth it in his mind, killing a Deamon, saving his fellow Eldar... the rifle meant nothing in comparison, so he would push it to it's breaking point, and if it couldn't fire anymore, he'd use the damn thing as a club. he was doing one of two things with this, making himself a distraction that couldn't be ignored... therefore buying his allies time, or he was exactly as he appeared, a ranger throwing caution out the blasted window and just trying to pump this thing with as many rounds as it would take to bring it down.


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Eriel was shocked to his core, the beautiful harlequin that just moments before had song to the heart and soul of every eldar present was a daemon.
Standing still just staring blank eyed, like a superstitous human seeing a alien for the first time, while the battle between the daemon and some eldar psyker. Suddenly some hysterical screaming terrified eldar woman slammed into Eriel, knocking him down among the rows of seats at his side.

With a curse of Khaine on his lips, instinctively Eriel stayed hidden moving towards the middle of the row of seats, stayed low as he had been taught in his time as a scorpion. Looking up from time to time, Eriel could not believe the scene he was seeing, some Eldar were still enchanted by the daemon moving toward the grotesque figure on the scene, some were screaming running for there lives, others stood still just like Eriel had done moments before. Others trying to help the enchanted eldar, grappling fights happening all around him, and some that seemed confused about what to do, and for on second they were walking toward the abomination, the next they were getting away.

Then Eriel started to notice the two warlocks that were protecting some prone figure, Eriel was quite sure it was the form of the farseer that had led them to battle earlier that day. As Eriel concentrated on the daemon, he could see various impacts on it, which suddenly made him aware of the background zipping noise that was the tell tale sound of a Eldar sniper rifle. Looking around Eriel spotted a shadow on one of the balconies, even when they were desperate and hurried the outcast hid themselves well. No matter the outcome of this battle, Eriel swore to himself he would try and figure out who the sniper was so he could thank him personally. Turning around focusing his attention on the daemon again, Eriel also believes he catches a glimmer of a teleporting Warp spider.

Eriel was relieved that the daemon was not unopposed, and it was allready engaged, but Eriel was also certain that it would take some time before serious resistance would be mounted, and that it would take time for the Farseers to coordinate a psychic assault. So he decided he would do what he could do, to distract the daemon hopefully save some fellow eldar in the process strenghtening there heart and souls against the daemons.

Jumping up in plain view in the middle of a section of seats, Eriel started to sing. He started to sing a song that every eldar have heard since they were children. A song of Phoenix Lord Asurmen and his famous battles against the daemons of chaos, a few nearby eldar looking confused started to sing along, soon a dozen was singing the heroic song of battle and victory. Which only spurred Eriel to sing louder moving around on the seats so all could see and hear him, but ever alert of the Daemon, were it to notice him and assault him. Would it notice his singing over the shooting and the Eldar farseer, now that dozens of eldar souls got purpose and were starting to move out of the dome, helping fellow eldar that was still confused or bound by the daemon spell.


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

Edit: I'm not sure if some of this post could be constituted as godmodding...so say your complaints or forever hold your tongue! 

_SOMETHING'S WRONG!_
The whisper was now an unrelenting scream, bashing continuously against the inside of her skull; the piercing yell finally broke through the sluggish haze surrounding Jae's mind as the farseer flew through the air, rendered weak at the feet of the harlequin. No, not a harlequin- a daemon, a servant of chaos and she who thirsts herself, a being of evil and wretched suffering that dared defile their sacred craftworld! Fury and hate shoved all drowsiness aside and swallowed Jae whole, the foul being would pay for such a heinous crime and insult! However, she was unarmed and unarmoured, a defenseless child before the forces of chaos once more; no better than the screaming citizens who were fleeing the fearsome manifestation of their greatest fear, of the doom of their very race. But not all were free from the cruel enchantments, Jae stood aghast as she saw eldar clubbing their fellow kind, under the dominion of other power, others drooled whilst stalking steadily towards the mangled form that even now took shape before their very eyes. How could it come to this?

A young eldar man grapled with one of his kin, his eyes blank and his mouth contorted into a silent scream, Jae quickly ran up to the duo and swiftly punched the enchanted unfortunate in the face, the sharp snap of his nose breaking caused her to wince, but she had to ensure that he would be unconscious. The now limp body fell to the floor at her feet, "Get him out of here as quickly as you can, and don't try to be a hero!" she ordered at the gaping eldar, her stern gaze answered with a fearful nod. Suddenly, the wail of bullets flying overhead could be heard, and it sounded as if an entire squad of outcasts had oppenned up onto the figure that stood center stage, the unrelenting barrage did not go unnoticed by the beast, most likely more of an anoyance than anything else. Jae muttered a prayer to Khaine and the memory of the Crone-Goddess in thanks to the hidden shooter, her mind was made up and she decided that nobody would speak of Jae Can-Aeth standing idley by whilst her craftworld was laid bear before the forces of the warp. She broke into a sprint using all of her stamina, gracefully leaping over intervening isles, her eyes focused on the body of the farseer laying prone on the floor; Jae could hear the words of the Pheonix Lords urging her on, a tune from a childhood long ago which was quickly taken up around the dome. The stricken figure lay before her, the sounds of bullets ricocheting off the tough deamon's hide accompanied by enraged screams far too close behind her. Jae looked up at ther warlocks who stood ready with their masks doned for battle, "I have the farseer! You have been gifted with weapons to use against this beast, SO USE THEM!!"


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Drasi burst into action as soon as the farseer was hurled backwards. The daemon had relinquished its control on him although that was just due to its attention being diverted as others still approached her. Several of them tried to subdue him but Drasi downed each of them with a devastating punch to the solar plexus. He ducked into cover to evade the psychic backlash and saw a bolt from a long rifle strike the daemon. He looked up seeing Svent pouring fire into the daemon. “Svent,” he roared “throw me a weapon.” Drasi could do nothing to the daemon currently but once armed he would make sure to place his shots where it would hurt. He stood slightly but ducked back down as another lash of psychic backwash headed his way. He needed a gun and a way to get close enough to use it. He saw an aspect warrior dragging the farseer to safety and prayed she would make it...


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

_[Carane]_

The unearthly sound of the daemon's words was something she had never heard before: In the cloisters of her Shrine and traversing the walkways of the Craftworlds it was easy to discount the being as 'foe-to-all' and that their words were mere poison.

Yet here, under it's gaze, she had nearly used up all of herself just to break off from it's merest glance.

However, turn away she had...and was drawn into outrage as it's hidden face was revealed for the abomination that it truly was. 

Still influenced by it's spell, she unconsciously bent her knee to it's command, but remained half standing as she desperately fought to shrug off it's effects.

Her heart turned to dismay as more numbers than she had hoped had knelt, fully subservient to the waves of unholy power it radiated.
Yet there was hope, as most now realised the enemy in their midst. 

As the beast tore the head from it's first victim, she caught a glance from the corner of it's eye.
Even tens of metres away, still young and inexperienced, she quailed when faced by the thing and felt it's disdain rush forth, trying to bury her like a massive tide.

She was but one soul...amongst a sea of many whose will was also failing.

She was but one soul...amongst thousands this creature had killed without so much as a thought of effort.

She was but one soul...amongst thousands more who called it their Lord and Mistress.

However, she dispelled the daemon's wave of despair from her mind as she realised that she was _not_ alone:
Her shrine and Saim Hann were always present.
Her compatriots on other Craftworlds such as this were always present.
Her ancestors and the duty they instilled in her were ever ready to guide and enforce her race's history.

With a shout of victory, she threw off the last vestiges of it's insidious influence and cast her gaze around:

Though off her bike, like all Saim Hann she was brought up with war and strife, skilled with hand to hand combat and at least passably adept with a blade.

Infighting may perhaps have been as common as other Craftworlds liked to think, but it was more restrained and ritualised, a precursor to the Aspects and the fighting Guardian units and Wind Rider Hosts which almost all at least nominally served with.

However, one look at the horror and she knew her relatively fledgling skills would not offer even a few second's impediment to it's killing blows.

Hearing multiple cracks of a rifle as the rounds whistled overhead, she knew she was too far away to influence any combat and felt impotent and ignorant in the face of it's power.
But, when she saw others still trying to shake off the enemy's spell, she knew what she had to do.

Amongst the bodies and crowds, although she could not see where it was coming from, she half-heard a song from childhood amongst the throng, brave and true of voice.

Taking up this tune, Carane moved amongst the crowd, shaking people out of their reverie, softly singing it to the people she met, urging their befuddled brains to recall the tune...to dissipate the daemon's will and return them to the Paths that they knew and loved so much.

Although she knew some might want to stay and fight, she tried her best to direct people out and to safety.

Having no way of knowing what might happen to her (and not sure what she would do herself afterwards), Carane's first thought was for the others assembled, hoping that as few as possible would be left in the auditorium to fall prey to whatever else the fiend might have in store for them next.

Whatever it was, she knew that she wanted to stand beside her new comrades and at least face the beast down, but she was not sure if she could bring herself to be a sacrifice to banish it.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Requiel*

"I have the farseer! You have been gifted with weapons to use against this beast, SO USE THEM!!" The voice rang out as a young Eldar reached the fallen Farseer. But Requiel was already moving, ignoring the cry he leapt over Maechu's fallen form. His sword already drawn and whirling in a complex pattern. He held it before him as he stood between the daemon and his farseer, channelling all of his rage from his mind in a blast of pure anger. A sharp tang entered the air, and he tasted blood in his mouth as the surge of power rent the intervening space.

The being barely even blinked. He sagged, horror filling his mind as he realised just how powerful this beast was. It took a step forwards, and he staggered backwards, it's very prescence a near physical force slapping him away as it neared the prone form of the farseer...


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Kendra had made it to the dome in a fair time, arriving at the same time as Requiel and Maechu. She nodded to them both before they proceeded into the dome, one on either side of the farseer. Her hand fell to her sword as they approached the stage, eldar that were unarmed were moving towards the stage in some form of trance. They watched with horror as the thing killed one of the eldar citizens before knocking the farseer down incredibly fast. 

Kendra drew her blade, watching as rounds hit it, obviously someone else had a weapon here and was firing on the beast. At the same time Requiel leapt forward, she could feel the powerful blast of pure anger he sent at the creature. Kendra closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths. She ignored the chaos around her, ignored all the voices, all the cries as she tried to channel her powers.

Her eyes flashed open, and lightning danced from her fingers towards her target. She wasn't sure if she had hit it, or even done any damage to it, but the second she released the power she leapt forward, blade held in a agressive stance as she said to Requiel, "We need to attack at the same time if we are to save Maechu!"


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

The giant daemoness stalled in its advance as a sniper round impacted its knee and unbalanced it. The sound of singing from one of the eldar opposing it elicited a snarl of rage which was instantly scarred by another shot from the semi-concealed sniper. To add insult to injury, there were now two eldar witches rushing to face it! Where was the fear? Where was the crippling terror it had been promised? 

An eldar woman was dragging the daemoness` target to safety, freeing the psyker`s bodyguards to fight free of commitment to his protection. 

They exchanged blows before the two warlocks retreated several paces, their rune armour strained to its limits. A blinding hail of lasfire suddenly erupted from above as Lealeterel entered firing range. Her sunrifle blazed across the daemon`s staggering form, driving the creature to its knees. It was at this moment that the warlocks seized their chance. Acting in almost perfect unison, they successfully impaled the beast through its heart and decapitated it. With its death, the Infinity circuit finally calmed down and the masses of civilians and warriors alike to act under their own will once again... 

_Several long hours later..._​
The war council convened. The intrusion of a Daemon aboard a craftworld was virtually unheard of, even on a world so close to the Great Eye. The senior exarchs were all present, as was the recovered yet still weary Farseer Maechu. At his side stood Requiel and Kendra, the courageous warlocks who had vanquished the creature and saved his life. Opposite them was the venerable Farseer Eldrad Ulthran himself. 

'You have done well Maechu, as have your apprentices. But this event shows that none of us can act on certainty in this war.' Eldrad explains. 'Even the most secure looking pathway can lead to one`s downfall. You were reckless. And until you have recovered your wits and your composure, I will be overseeing your forces myself.' 

'This is unnecessary!' Maechu protested in outrage. 

Eldrad raised a hand and silenced him. He beckoned to two of his warlocks to remove Maechu to a resting facility while at the same time beckoning the other two young seers forward. 

'Kendra, Requiel.' He greeted them. 'Your time under Maechu has made your abilities and experience grow quite well, as any of us would have expected. However I hope you learn equally from his mistakes as his triumphs. Let this serve as a reminder that none among us are infallible.'

Eldrad then turned to the gathered crowd and raised his voice. 

'Our next strike is foretold to occur in two days!' He informed them. 'Steel yourselves, for now that the enemy`s ploy has failed, they will be more desperate than ever to see us annihilated!' 

With that, he strode from the war chamber, signalling the two young seers to follow. 


--- --- ---

Kendra and Requiel: Still worn out from the effort of vanquishing the creature (It was Kendra who impaled the beast`s heart while Requiel severed its head) how do you react to Eldrad`s decree? 

Svent: Following the dismissal of the war council, you leave the ranger`s pulpit behind and seek out Lealeterel. She wordlessly leads you back to the shrine of the Bared Talon and takes you inside. Your training is to begin immediately. Are you ready for this, or will you resist? 

Drasi: Svent has left the ranks of the rangers behind, leaving you and barely a handful of thinly stretched rangers under the command of the corsair Orlath. Does this cause you to question your own life decision and yearn for the path? Or are you as committed to staying free as ever? 

Eriel, Jae, Carane: The three of you witness the dismissal of Maechu as well, and following this your exarchs will lead you back to the temples. They emphasize that you have demonstrated weakness of will and intend to increase your training to prepare you for the coming conflict. After the encounter with the daemon earlier you are all spent and exhausted. That your exarchs seem to want to train you so soon after seems outrageous. What will your reaction be? 



All: (ooc: I don`t expect a lot from this post, but it is needed as a midway between one battle and the next. If you want more info, PM me, otherwise simply assume that regular training takes place between now and the attack.)


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

svent stayed silent for much of the final meeting during the aftermath of the demon infiltration. his mind lingered beyond what most considered sane or normal, he didn't concern himself with what was going on, to him the fighting, it didn't really matter at the moment. the war? he didn't care, the demon coming in and screwing things up? nope still didn't care, the fact that his gun's frame was still smoking and parts of it resembled burning tissue paper or cardboard? only moderately concerning, but what was on his mind, what he focused on now, was the road ahead... his eyes fixed on the ground down in front of him as he stood there lost in thought for the entire meeting, hell he didn't hear a single word that was said, he just stood there without words and without movements.

down on the ground he saw the tiles stretching out from his feet, the point where the tiles met just sitting right between his legs. a line was all he saw, a road, a path that he was on... some grand journey. his eyes traced along the path, it was bumpy, filled with a lot of craters and dibits, but it came to a cross roads.. looking at this breaking point svent considered his road ahead. for most there was only two possible paths, the path they were on and another path that was available. no one ever chose to really branch out on their own, really wasn't any room for it... but svent... he cared as little for the preconceived notions of paths as much as a large carnivorous semi aquatic lizard with a mouth full of teeth cared about what it was eating as long as it was eating. 

on the right he saw the path of a simple ranger, limited by what they could do. so many of them found it apealing to stay at range, never using anything more than a longrifle... and then you had the left path... the one that was now before him. strict, unrelenting, structured... he hated it already. but he was at a cross roads, he realized his path was stagnenting on the journies of a ranger... he needed more, his wonder lust, that insaciable craving roaring in the back of his mind like a hungry dire bear that had just been woken up rudely from hibernation. 

moving down the path a bit he'd take a few steps, standing now before the two lines that went off in separate ways... growling a bit he wasn't content with this... not at all. so he did something that caused a few to suddenly stop what they were doing and stare on in confusion. he removed his power sword and slammed the blade's tip into the ground with a great deal of force, as if to rip open a new path for himself to take... forge a new road ahead of himself... so he took that blade of his, and wrenched it along the tile until it reached the other side.... it's path was ragged, jagged, and barely structured... darting back and forth between the side of the structured path, and the side of the ranger... it got to the same place the others went, but it was clear for him that he wasn't content with what was offered... not in the least.

with the scar in the tiles left behind svent ventured towards the temple of the Swooping hawks... his ranger's helmet tapping against his side as he entered the archway. as he entered he could feel the eyes and nearly feel the thoughts of the other eldar as they watched him enter and move through the shrine to the echarch and her contingent. 

"ah you've finally arrive young swoo" the swooping hawk on the left of the echarch started but svent just shook his head "i am no more a swooping hawk than you are a laughing toad in a bog. i am me, myself, and i. i walk my own road, just as you walk yours..." interrupted svent as he stood there before them, however the one on the right didn't take kindly to this. 

"Watch your tongue in front of the echarch!" the swooping hawk on the right seemed particularly miffed by svent's carefree approach and lack of structure, grace, or discipline in his current stance. 

"and here we wonder why other races think we're so stuck up... " sighed svent as he approached the echarch, only to get the palm of the left hawk's hand placed firmly on his chest. 

"you've got some nerve outcast coming in here li" the man started, but split second later svent's fist connected with his jaw and knocked the surprised eldar to the ground. 

"First off, yes i have some nerve. after being hunted by my own people, my own race, my own craftworld, i've got the godds damned right to be! you aint ever been hunted by your own you foolish twerp, never been having the thunder of your own guns baring down on you for simply existing! so yes, i've got the nerve, i've got the Gaul! YOUR OWN MOTHER WASN'T EXECUTED IN FRONT OF YOU WHEN YOU TRIED TO RETURN HOME JUST BECAUSE SHE GAVE BIRTH TO A OUTCAST!" he roared in a manner that seemed like he was going to pummel the man with his bare fists if need be. but he made no movement to do so other than just cracking his knuckles idly as he stood there in a rather slack stance as if striking another of his kind wasn't something odd or out of place. "so yes, i've come here to travel the same road your kind exarch does. and you're old enough to know that she wouldn't have sought me out, not taunted my wonder lusting mind with her insasiable words had she not known what she was getting herself into with me. i will fight as one of you from this point on in the war swooping hawk. but i am not you... i am me." svent offered a hand to the eldar who still lay on the ground to help him up, a notion that confused a few onlookers. 

picking up on the change of tone, the other simply smiled behind the mask and nodded "then we have a long path ahead of us. " he noted, reaching back behind the exarch to retrieve the armor svent was to use... handing it over to the outcast who stripped free of what he had on for the moment before looking it over. 

"no offense or anything but i'll stick to my own colors. so if you have anything in orange and black i'd be much obliged" he replied with a sly smirk, dawning what he could....

when it came time for the helmet svent shook his head, "like i said before. you are you... i am i. i'll be fighting as myself, not as one who wont remember his deeds in the morning after. " at this point svent removed the damaged mask from the disguised hip plate of his ranger's armor and dawned the mask over his face as if to denote this was his choice. "remember these words, even if you dis guard them as the ramblings of a estranged outcast. we all walk a different path, no matter how similar our paths may be, they are all in fact different. all of them influenced by conscious and unconscious choices that we make. this choice, is mine. i choose to remember... i am not forced to, it is my choice, my active, and acknowledged choice. our paths intertwine now, they are now a road, a long journey... but they are still different paths."

another hawk in the room seemed confused by this... "... w..wait, just how old are you ranger? how many centuries have you been alive?" inquired the man, svent just chuckled in response

"i'm a lot younger than you think, and to be honest i just pulled that out of my back side to make a point."


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Requiel*

Requiel was still swaying as he left the war chamber, following Eldrad. He was shocked at the simple ease with which he had dismissed Maechu, but understood that Eldrad could see the different strands of a situation in a way in which he could never hope to approach. Even so, perhaps Eldrad was himself making the same mistake, to assume that their enemies had collapsed so easily was to underestimate the true threat of Chaos, physically defeated or not, a daemon was still a powerful foe. But then surely Eldrad had already accounted for every possible factor, after all his experience with the great enemies of the galaxy was far in advance of Requiel's. He only hoped that his doubts would prove baseless, he had witnessed a craftworld brought low, near destroyed, and had no wish to see another suffer the same fate, or worse...


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Eriel was put through exhausting training regime after the other by his Exarch. Sometimes with his squadmates, sometime against them, quite often against the superior Exarch. Being exhausted to the point where Eriel would simply collapse in the temple, from the strain on his body. All to steel his mind against the games of chaos, he was told again and a again, as he was forced to pick himself of from the floor to continue. His muscles aching, his mind reeling from the physical abuse, his heart beating faster than it ever had and his breath sounding like a ork on a rampage. This going on hours after hours, no rest no food or water. Untill Eriel simply couldn't move anymore, he just lay on the ground of the temple staring into the simulated night sky. Eriel couldn't hear the orders of the Exarch or his concerned squad mates.

All he could see was memories, memories of the daemon as it had defiled the craftworld. Memories of what it had taken to resists its powers. Memories of dieing Eldar, and those that had survived. Memories of the emotions that had been displayed in the dome of unheard melodies. Fear, terror, courage, anger, spite, wrath, sadness, loss and purpose. Eriel was not afraid anymore, he had survived one of the universe worst horrors.

Eriel needed to meditate, so that was what he did right there on the ground in the temple. Even thou his squad mates was shaking him, believing him to be unconcious. The Exarch still yelling at him to stand up, simply knowing better. But Eriel was travelling into his soul, sensing nothing of the outside world. And he calmed his soul, repairing its cracks and purging it of any taints he could find. Some of the cracks and taints waking memories of old battles, but they did not but Eriel out of balance or unsettle him. They just were a part of who he was and what he was to become, even thou the details of his future was still shrouded in mystery.

When Eriel opened his eyes he lay on a lawn sweet scenting flowers around him. He did not know how long he had been away, but he was not in the Dire Avenger temple anymore. His armour had been replaced with loose fitting robes. A couple of Warlocks sitting on each side of him, they were also meditating. Eriel did not know where he was, but a familiar face greeted him. _"Finally you arrive young Dire Avenger, I was afraid I had to go into your mind and pull you out myself"_
Receiving a helping hand to stand up, Eriel was guided to one of the exits of the massive gleaming garden dome.
_"Its very rare I see anyone outside the path of the witch, go so deep into meditation. Many on the path of the witch can only dream of being able to enter so deep a meditative state you have just experienced young warrior."_
As they exited the dome, a skiff pulling up along side Eriel, his companion gently pushing him up on the skiff.
_"It will take you to your temple, your exarch and squad mates awaits you with your gear ready. We will soon depart to go to battle once again."_
As the Skiff moved away from the Dome, Eriel watched the farseer enter it again. Eriel was stunned not knowing how to react, Eldrad Ulthuan had given him a helping hand, and had held his hand on Eriels shoulder as he had been guided outside. Eriel did not feel worthy of that honour.


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

*Carane*

Carane slowly nodded at the Exarch's words, bowing to his experience in such things.

"I think I understand your teaching...these foes will not let us rest for a second and we must be vigilant and ever watchful.

"I will not shy away from what happened, but I will question, so I hope it does not sound like disrespect, for I have the utmost of such for you and the Temple and for this Craftworld. 
"Saim Hann always quests for the true answer, not just the most obvious one:

"It is true, I did not run forth and try to battle the daemon. But, without weapons, all I would have done would be to empower that beast with one more soul to feed it's Master.

"I will not claim all the credit, but I did my best to save others from being drawn to it's thrall. I had to make a decision in the face of a triple-headed choice:

"Firstly, I could have cowered and hid or run screaming to safety, saving only myself:
"I believe that such a situation would have been a selfish act, cowardly and unbecoming of the bravey of our Temple.
"It would have been a slight against our people, because we are one...not just a disparate bunch of individuals.

"Secondly, I could have waded into the fight, unarmed where I was obviously not fit for anything other than a swift demise and to be easy fodder to further emppower that...thing.
"I am here to learn, to become a sharper weapon in the hands of Asuryan and Isha and the others. I am beginning to see the true devotion and bravery that this Craftworld is famed for. However, I do not think that throwing away my life for nothing is anything to aspire to.

"This leaves the third option: helping others throw off it's spell.
"I had assessed that I could not meaningfully confront it, nor would I retreat from it. Yet I could not allow inability to grip me either, just sitting back and permitting that monster to take people over.

"Saving other's lives was more important to me than throwing my own away meaninglessly.

"The man who sang inspired me...reminding me that I am greater than just one person amongst many...that together we are much stonger than our individual skills would seem to offer.
"Training at Temples, as a squad, is that not also what is being taught..? That we fight as one, one mind, one voice, one cohesive blade to tear the heart from our foes?"

"Later, I shall try to seek him out, to thank him and to learn from his resolve. I am ready to admit I am wrong if it is the case, but I _thought_ he showed a good example..."

"I will always serve wilth all of the obedience and dedication that my soul can summon.
"But I will not be branded a coward or a weakling for seeing the more important goals and doing everything I could do in an hour of need.

"I understand criticism spurs us on and we improve as a result.
So let us to it, then: Let us train to the limits and you shall see what happens when -in me- you have the most dedicated student ever to walk through those Temple doors!" 

If her words had come from anyone else, perhaps they might have seemed a cheap and hollow boast, more arrogant and angry at the Exarch for his words than anything else.

However, Carane's body language was defiant but resolute...her face remained dedicated and ready to learn everything she could, eyes shining with excitement at the new skills -and the honing of existing ones- that were to come. 

As she strode to the waiting armouring-room, Carane's resolve was not to be "better" than anyone else, but to be the best that she could be and to prove herself worthy in his eyes once and for all.

Of course, it would only be painful hours later, dizzy with fatigue and limbs crying out for respite (which nether she nor the unflinching Exarch would grant) that she realised exactly _how much_ dedication was required, yet she acquitted herself well in the trials.

[OOC: I have no idea how Eldar send mesaages to people they don't know, but Carane will try to at least send a missive to Eriel...or try to find out who he was so she can do this later].

[Anilar, I'm not godmodding, but I don't know if you wanted to meet up and do a small interlude between now and the battle or not? Or maybe later? Up to you - Andy.].


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Drasi slowly paced the corridors of the Craftworld. He saw Svent enter the Swooping Hawks temple and gave a simple nod of farewell. He continued on his way, stopping in front of the Striking Scorpion temple. He removed his helmet and gazed at the building. He saw the Scorpions performing their training and remembered what it had been like. He felt the yearning in his heart, a yearning to be part of a brotherhood once more.

Alecian had shattered his heart. He had been outcast for something he had not done, exiled for another’s wrong doings. The Exarch had ignored his pleas and cast him out, all for the sake of reputation. His story was one of betrayal, of torment, of exile. No matter what his heart wanted his soul was that of an outcast. He had lost the one thing that kept other Eldar following the path, trust. Trust in others and above all, trust in themselves. Drasi had lost that, had it stolen by the Eldar he would have given his soul for.

The path he walked was a dangerous one for She Who Thirsts was even harder to keep at bay without the constraints of the Eldar path. But he would not have traded places with anyone. The burden he carried was his to bear, no other. Other rangers yearned for a return to order but for Drasi there was no return to order. He was a true outcast, a warrior with no path to walk and no leader to follow. This was his life. He may not have chosen it but it had chosen him. He was a ranger through and through with only a few parts of him yearning for the life he lost.

That life was gone and with it his old allegiances. He turned away from the temple...


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

Jae felt exhaustion begin to overcome her, and fought the unbearable urge to rest every step of the way. They had been drilled through countless formations, endless spars and seemingly limitless punishments for their 'failure' against that accursed deamon. Jae would've spat at the memory, if she had the strength to do so; they had fought unarmed against a child of she who thirsts! UNARMED! And yet by the grace of Khaine they had triumphed, and as a result were rewarded with this unrelenting hammering by their exarchs. Then there was the farseer himself, both of them; the mighty Eldrad himself had relieved Maechu of his command, an insult, a humiliation no less, no matter how you cut it. Jae did not know if the farseer had deserved such treatment, or whether the chaotic incursion was a fault of his own making, but the sight of the warrior who had lead them to victory, distraught at his own failure, would not leave her head.

The floor felt cold beneath her hands, Jae had collapsed after the most recent spar, her opponent lying somewhat bruised opposite her, neither caring anymore about the result; far too engrossed in their own personal agony for anything else to matter. However, the physical fatigue was nothing, Jae would endure until she died before she allowed herself to fail in front of Jolinaar. No, it was the memories, the tormenting flashes that burst into her mind, of screaming eldar and that sickening, twisted smile. They wouldn't leave her alone, the crunch of an eldar skull and the iron tinge filled her thoughts, Jae threw herself again and again into the drills, if only to forget. She was angry with herself, furious; for the second time in her life she had been vulnerable, and she had suffered because of it. She had been a mere spectator in the fight, the two brave warlocks having to face the deamon, with the aid of the hidden ranger and the Exarch herself. 
"UP! We do not surrender until Khaine wills it so!" the hard thwack of the Exarch's baton tossed Jae aside as if she were a helpless doll. A groan escaped her lips before she gritted her teeth and pulled herself to her feet, ready for the next stage of their punishment.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Kendra could barely comprehend where she was, let alone who was talking. She stood in with the war council she thought, aboard the craftworld still, at least she hoped it was. In their fight with the daemon she had impaled it through the heart while Requiel had taken its head from its shoulders. The two of them had saved the craftworld, but both were left taxed from the fight.

Kendra looked around the room, senior exarches stood assembled as did Maechu who was alive but still look a bit haggard. She stood on one side, Requiel another. She looked across the table at the figure who dominated the proceedings, a figure of immense power, a figure to be respected.

Farseer Eldrad Ulthran himself. 

'You have done well Maechu, as have your apprentices. But this event shows that none of us can act on certainty in this war.' Eldrad explains. 'Even the most secure looking pathway can lead to one`s downfall. You were reckless. And until you have recovered your wits and your composure, I will be overseeing your forces myself.' 

'This is unnecessary!' Maechu protested in outrage. 

Kendra stayed silent at this, not wishing to comment. While it was true Maechu had let his guard down, had allowed a daemon onto the world he wasn't entirely to blame. None of them had discovered the presence of the foul thing until it was almost too late. Eldrad raised a hand and silenced him. He beckoned to two of his warlocks to remove Maechu to a resting facility while at the same time beckoning the other two young seers forward. 

Kendra stepped forward without hesitation, though she did have some niggling thoughts at the back of her head. 'Kendra, Requiel.' He greeted them. 'Your time under Maechu has made your abilities and experience grow quite well, as any of us would have expected. However I hope you learn equally from his mistakes as his triumphs. Let this serve as a reminder that none among us are infallible.'

Kendra inclined her head slightly to show that she heard and understood his comment, too tired for words. The fight had taxed both her mental and physical forms, and she needed to rest.

'Our next strike is foretold to occur in two days!' He informed them. 'Steel yourselves, for now that the enemy`s ploy has failed, they will be more desperate than ever to see us annihilated!' 

With that, he strode from the war chamber, signalling the two young seers to follow.

Kendra followed, content to stay with the powerful seer for as long as possible. She was weary but followed.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

*Update*

Kendra:

The day after the meeting is spent for you training under Eldrad himself. Not because he deems it necessary, but because he sees in you the resolve to see this path through to the end. In your heart he sees the resolve necessary to one day eclipse even his own power despite your own doubts. He takes you through various drills, beginning with traversing the skein of the webway with your thoughts, pushing the limits of your abilities until your mind can take no more. He then directs you to practice more offensive abilities, focusing your psychic powers into a weapon of rage and destruction. He teaches you the finer points of channeling your power into your own body to increase your speed and strength. When the day cycle nears its end and your mind can take no more, he has you practice your sword techniques instead. This entails roughly fourteen hours worth of training before you are released to rest and recover. 

During the second day, you are given the morning to act as you please. Feel free to interact with others or simply take time to yourself. As dusk approaches on the second day, you are called to the dome to make ready for war, then you will assemble with the other seers (except for Requiel, who has his own squad now) as with last time at the craftworld`s main Webway Portal and await orders to move out.

Requiel:

The day after the war council is spent for you practicing and refining the ways of spiritseeing. A talented spiritseer named Olia is your guide in this. Olia uses her own experience to show you the principles of the craft. At the node where before you returned the spirits of the dead to the Infinity Circuit, now instead you are summoning them back to wakefulness. You will encounter dozens of minds as you go through this training. Olia will have you keep the spirits in limbo for minutes at a time, conversing with them and learning from them. Few are still coherent after so long, and those that are typically emit the rage borne of a warrior killed in battle. As the day cycle draws to a close, she will at last have you assemble a small squad of five wraithguard, drawing the spirits of five you deem adequate into blank waystones made for this purpose, and then grafting those spirit stones onto the wraithguard bodies. Once this is done, you may leave them in a silent meditative chamber nearby where they will await your call for battle.

On the second day, you are free to act as you wish as with Kendra above. You will assemble just before the craftworld day cycle reaches dusk at the same location after collecting your squad. 

Svent:

Your first day of training as a swooping hawk focuses on the principle of donning your war mask. Lealeterel will drill you through the practice again and again until you get it right, a difficult task given that you have lived without discipline for so long. At the end of the first day however, you will succeed. *Don your war mask for the first time, a metaphorical practice in which your mind splits into a separate portion of itself to shield your true self from the atrocities you will wreak in battle.* Once you remove your war mask and slip back into your true frame of mind, the exarch will congratulate you upon your achievement. You are then allowed to rest. 

The second day involves you training with the weapons of the temple. You master the lasblaster drills easily enough thanks to your experience with a rifle, but she then has you refine your skill with a sword by showing you techniques and having you interpret and apply them through sparring with her. As the day goes on, you begin to realize that Lealeterel is doing more than teaching you the ways of battle. The exercises of donning your war mask and physical exertion have all but dissolved the rage you once felt. As Dusk falls on the second day she announces the call to battle. Due to your inexperience, you will not be fighting as a swooping hawk just yet. As she assembles her squad and makes to leave, she instructs you instead to remain behind and await their return... *PM me if you are confused, there is more to this.*

Drasi:

Svent`s departure from the rangers leaves you to return alone to the others of this path. As you walk, seeking solitude over the course of the first day you instead find Orlath sitting on an outcrop jutting from a spire near the upper end of the primary dome. You seat yourself beside him, both of you looking out over the damaged ground where the daemon had attacked. Orlath greets you quickly, and for a time is silent. As dusk falls, he begins to speak of regret for his past. The details of his story are deep an saddening (details up to you if you wish Santaire) and you realize have a lot in common with your own past. As he stands to leave, he mutters something about withdrawing from Ulthwe`s campaign and returning to somewhere you didn`t quite catch...

Concern grips you, but he is clearly in no mood to speak. Therefore, when the next day cycle begins and Orlath is nowhere to be found in the craftworld, you must make a choice. You can seek out Farseer Ulthran or the Autarch Eldranna and report his possible desertion, or you can seek Orlath out in the webway portal docks to try and talk some sense in him. *PM me with your choice and I will provide further details.*

Eriel:

The training you have endured over the course of the first day has left you drained and in a state of mental exhaustion, so deep in fact that the Infinity circuit sensed your exertion and it was brought to the attention of Ulthran during his own meditations. As he helps you to the skiff that takes you back to your temple, it occurs to you (after the initial shock of having been entertained by Eldrad himself) that only the seers usually delve so deep within their minds. Though Eldrad dismisses it as a result of intense training, you are less inclined to do so. You may try to unravel the mystery yourself by attempting to meditate once more in the privacy of your own home. Or you may seek the council of your exarch. *PM me with your choice.* 
As dusk falls on the second day, you will be called to battle and will assemble with the rest of your squad at the craftworld`s main webway portal.

Jae:

The first day after the war council has been spent training, so today is yours to recover and prepare. With the primary dome still being cleaned up after the attack, you must seek another avenue to relax. You may meet up with Carane if you chose to go to the dome of the seers. Otherwise you may entertain yourself. At the end of the second day you will ready for battle and assemble like the others. 

Carane: 

On the first day after the council, you have proven yourself well, impressing the Ulthwe riders and the exarch alike. 

The second day is yours to spend as you see fit. Your first thought is to try and track down the eldar who had been singing during the daemon`s attack. A brief inquiry from one of the Infinity circuit terminals reveals his name to be Eriel but attempts to contact him prove futile, meaning he is engaged elsewhere. If Jae turns up you may organize some socializing, otherwise you may entertain yourself. At the end of the second day you both assemble as with the others.


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Eriel couldn't believe himself, he had been walking and touched by the great Farseer Eldrad himself. He had seen him before, on the battlefield in war councils, but he had never just walked with him. He had also talked to Eriel, talking about his meditation. Suddenly with a flush of emotions, Eriel remembered his meditation, and some of the experiences and memories he had met in his soul. But somehow they were just right, they were just him. And Eriel realised that he had achieved something, that was mostly reserved to those of the path of the witch.
Did that mean he was to join that path, or that another future awaited him. He did not know, but he knew he had to try and do it again. See if it was something he could do without help, or the physical exhaustion he had been under.

As the skiff brought him home Eriel shortly pondered if he should talk with his exarch first, but he decided against it. He needed to know as much as he could before seeking guidance, and maybe the coming battle would bring some wisdom too.
Entered his home, Eriel started preparing for the meditation. He hadn't eaten for a day or so, so he ate some bread and berries with high amount of energy which would be released slowly so his metabolism wouldn't skyrocket and keep him awake. He but on some light beautiful music, lit various incenses and drank some sweet juice.

For hours Eriel meditated, but it wasn't different from any other time he had meditated in the past, he couldn't get anywhere near of where he had been just the night before. It disappointed Eriel! but he was not surprised. Before sleep took him, Eriel made a mental note of seeking his Exarch wisdom and knowledge, when the coming battle had been done with.

A few hours later Eriel awoke as his calling stone chimed, reminding him that he was to go to the Dire Avenger temple to prepare for battle. And as so many times before Eriel quickly got up well rested and motivated. He got a on a Skiff and took of for the temple to prepare. Eriel quickly adorned himself in his armour and warmask, faster than he had ever done. It scared him a bit, afraid that he might have forgot something or done it too fast. But at the same time he felt just right for the battle. Following his squad to the webway portal for deployment.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Requiel*

Their two minds intertwined as more were drawn from the circuit, demonstrating how each spirit was coaxed into a limbo, neither within, nor without the infinity circuit. Requiel felt how Olia kept each soul in limbo, conversing with them before leading them gently back. He let his mind reach out, gently, oh so gently, until he could discern a separate soul from the softly flowing mass.

Drawing it on into a state of limbo between circuit and soulstone, he opened his mind to it. A wordless howl of rage burned into his consciousness and he almost recoiled. He soothed it, before leading it into the soulstone, promising it the chance of vengeance. _Soon, soon._

Five wraithguard prepared, he pulled his mind back into his own form. Leaving them in their own thoughts and minds, he left them in a silent meditative chamber, allowing them to become at peace with themselves, focused for the coming battle.
_________________________________________________________________

The next day he took the last opportunity to wander the streets, marvelling at the structures along the streets. They were much the same as those of Iyanden, but unlike those of his home, these were still intact. A great sorrow filled him at that, but he shook himself free, he could not allow these things to cloud his thoughts. As he rounded the corner he spotted Kendra, calling out to her, "are you prepared for the coming battle sister?"


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Drasi wandered alone through the Craftworld. He was looking for peace and solitude, a place of calm where he could rest and think upon what had happened during his life. Instead he found Orlath sitting atop an outcrop jutting from a spire near the upper end of the primary dome. He sat beside the corsair and for a while the 2 just stayed there, gazing over the wreckage where the daemon was finally vanquished. The artificial sun faded an approximation of dusk falling and Orlath began to speak. His voice was quiet and appeared calm although his hand seemed to quiver as he spoke.

“I was born on Iyanden,” he began. He seemed not to notice Drasi listening, merely reliving events of the past. As he recounted his tale Drasi listened with a growing feeling of kinship and sadness. Their stories were remarkably similar, tales of betrayal and being cast aside. Once he had finished speaking Orlath stood and muttered "I should return to..." Unfortunately Drasi did not catch the name of the place he was returning to. Drasi resovled to find him in the morning and left for his quarters...

Refreshed from a night's sleep he donned his armour before going to find Orlath in the hangar bay. When he encountered the ranger he tried to convince Orlath to come with him to finish the fight but the corsiar stubbornly refused, even going so far as to try and convince Drasi to come with him. There is no way of telling how much that request confused Drasi. He wanted to go with Orlath but felt he had a duty to see this fight through to the end. His temper snapped and he talked quietly but forcefully, berating Orlath for his determination to leave, claiming he was breaking the trust others had held him to when he joined this force.

Drasi's outburst was noticed by Autarch Eldrana who came over and politely asked Drasi to leave the buisness to her while one hand rested on the hilt of her sword. Suddenly feeling wretched at having more or less told her about Orlath's desertion he walked over to join the rest of the rangers as they waited to enter the webway, all the while watching the exchange between Eldrana and Orlath...


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

*Jae Can-Aeth*

Jae walked aimlessly through the settlement, her mind wandering through memories and lingering on those that struck her as worth remembering. It wasn't long before she lost track of where she was or where she was going, and eventually she stopped caring, content to let her feet guide her. She still had not been freed from the scenes of that battle in the Dome, word of the tragedy had spread like wildfire, and the war being persercuted against the great enemy had become all the more real and dangerous for the public; that was not to say that an Eldar was ever ignorant towards the dangers of their hated foe, but to have one strike at a craftworld with such ferocity and such ease, was a sign of a calamity in the making. The elders of Ulthwe had seen such things in their endless age, Jae saw many aged Eldar sitting silent amongst their brethren whilst the younger went about their lives. Jae saw their eyes bear into her, a stare that asked of questions that they already knew the answer to, most probably better than Jae herself, _they know a storm is coming..._

Soon enough Jae had reached her destination, despite not having one in the first place; the Dome of the Seers loomed above her, a symbol of the power of the Eldar race and their pivotal role in the fate of the universe, within the walls of the great structure, the destinies of lesser races and the mighty eldar themselves were studied and decoded, balanced and judged, before being acted upon by the forces at the behest of the Seers. Jae journeyed into the mighty building, finding herself amongst a small crowd of Eldar seeking the guidance of the Seers, or simply searching for clarity within themselves. Slumping on a bench, wincing as a dull pain throbbed from the previous day's training shot through her spine, Jae looked out at the interior of the Dome, a thriving center for the craftworld, the beating heart that pulsed the lifeblood of their race. Looking carefully into the crowd, Jae could make out a familiar figure, a warrior from Saim Hann who had been present at the attack on the craftworld; Jae remembered watching the woman risk life and limb dragging civilians to safety before running back into the danger zone to rescue more innocents, many of which were so enchanted by the deamonic being that they tried to fight her off. Jae stared at the warrior for some time, trying to recall her name, and wondering whether or not to approach.

(OOC: AndyGorn, I kind of left it open, suffering from writers block so have NO idea what our characters could talk about or how to open a conversation. PM if you have any ideas or are interested  )


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

The next day passed by Kendra as a blur. She was lucky enough to still be in the presence of Eldrad, who had decided to help her train to focus her mind and powers better than she already could do. She was awed to be in the presence of one so wise, so old. She had trained hard, wanting to show her desire to continue to tread the path, and follow the mighty Eldrad lead by becoming a farseer.

Throughout he told her that she could amount to something more powerful than he was, but she doubted that highly. While she was normally confident in her abilities there was no competition when it came to the two of them, he was the greatest Eldar Farseer that had ever graced the Ulthwe. He had lead her in drills, the first helping her to traverse the skein of the webway with her own thoughts, forcing her to push herself to the limit of endurance. 

After they had practiced this he taught her to turn her mind into an offensive weapon, capable of focusing her psychic powers into a weapon of rage and destruction. She followed his teaching closely, knowing that it was a privilege and that she should take all of his teachings to heart. 

Eldrad even saw time before she practiced her sword techniques to channel her powers and make her already considerable speed and strength, compared to a human at least, increase to new heightened levels. She was a blur of movement as she practiced her sword skills, attacking and defending styles switching seamlessly and her sword seemed to be an extension of her own body. 

The next day she had the morning to herself, knowing that she would need to be focused for the coming battle. She went to the dome of seers where she sat and meditated, clearing her mind of all distractions, all obstacles so that she would be ready to fight when needed. When dusk approached she armed herself and joined the other seers that would be going into battle, minus Requiel, who seemed to have abilities with the wraithguard, and as such would be leading a squad of them.

As the force assembled at the webway portal she saw Requiel, who quickly came over to her and ask if she was prepared.* "Of course I am ready for the coming battle brother seer, let us hope that few lives on our side are expended today, and good luck in leading your squad into battle."* She flashed him a smile, before moving over to the other seers, ready to lend a hand in battle wherever they saw fit.


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

svent's first task was a simple one all things considered, or at least as far as he was concerned... dawning a mask, yet this task alone he was given an entire day to complete. "dawning a mask... what could possibly go wrong?" he'd ask moments before he dawned the mask for the first time. the mask sat in the palm of his hands as he moved it up over his face to put it on... at first he didn't feel anything so he thought he'd make a comment. "cant see a thing out of this damn mask." he'd comment, standing there holding it over his face in an attempt to dawn it. second later he was slammed backwards and smacked his head against the floor. not by another eldar or some new threat, but seemingly by the mask itself. groaning some he removed the mask, ripping it off of his face as arcs of eldritch energy lashed about from the inside of the mask that were leaping from his face to the mask. first time dawning the mask and he'd received a tremendous backlash as the masks's task and his mind collided like a pair of ork freight trains on a collision course with each other. 

the mask skidded a few feet from his body as he lay there, his face with several burn marks imbedded on it from the backlash as he looked out over to the mask's resting place, sitting on the ground taunting him. "oh shut up..." he growled, pulling himself to his feet as he stormed over to the mask, not that he had much luck for the next few hours. time after time he'd dawn the mask, attempting to allow his mind to split like the intended outcome, but each time he was flung back, smacking into one thing or another, most often the floor. to say things were going well would be a outright lie, it was as if the mask was rejecting it's new owner. 

"come on you!" roared svent as he slammed his mask on once more, pinning his back against a wall as to prevent from being blown back once more by the backlash. it seemed to stay there for a few moments as if the process worked. 

"how do you feel?" asked one of the eldar tasked with making sure svent didn't kill himself in the process. the eldar had sat there somewhat confused that he hadn't given up already. it had been a good 15 hours since svent first started dawning the mask. 

"i'm in a lot of pain, and i feel like i want to kill something, and then scream into the air for a few hours straight..." svent would reply rather honestly in a strained voice as if angered to the very core of his being. 

"you know, i think it's working... i think he's ..." he was about to say i think he's got it, when the burst of light exploded out of the eye sockets of the mask and svent's head smashed into the wall behind him and he slumped down to the ground one more time motionless. "never mind..." the eldar groaned and moved over to assist. 

hours later and it was nearing the dead of night... everyone was assuming that he was going to fail in this last attempt. many had tried to sway him to taking a break and try again tomorrow. svent didn't listen in the least and kept trying. this time however, no backlash, no burst of light and flying corpse just to leave a smear on the ground... this time, svent stood there, twitching some as if he was restraining himself from killing everything in the room. "Vengeance...will be mine" he'd snarl as if he was literally going to butcher someone who had wronged him severely. the first thing to approach svent nearly got the full release of all of his rage at once as he lunged at another eldar who had made to approach, but the exarch snatched him from the sky and ripped off his mask before dropping his motionless form at speed and let him skid across the ground. 

the next day came around and the task of dawning his war mask was no longer there. now he just had the task of mastering his new weapons. the rifle proved no challenge for svent to the point they didn't bother with further demonstrations or practice engagements after the first bout with the rifle... instead he had a unexpected opponent with a sword... the exarch herself. 

svent was used to sword play, but his thirst for vengeance, his hunger for beating a object into a squishy paste hadn't faded, but this spar would change that. the two stood apart from one another for a moment as she explained the purpose of the fight, but she got three words in before svent began his assault, a relentless barbaric blitz of slashing, stabbing, parrying, and flurry strikes, although all through it svent seemed as if he was struggling to hold himself back, struggling against everything the mask wanted to be to hold it back. some would see it as a mistake, but it was svent's effort to retain some part of himself for what it was worth. 

the exarch and svent seemed to fight on even ground for a few moments, svent constantly pressing the offensive, constantly unleashing his vengeful assault upon the exarch who kept blocking each strike and attempting to make ones of her own, in which svent would block, parry, and reposite in kind only to have it loop back around and around and around in a never ending cycle. but svent's form was unrefined, but it was far from harmless. it lacked the normal eldar grace, it lacked the years of dedicated form and function of every other swooping hawk with a blade, it was more like a whirlwind of sand and shrapnel being unleashed in a torrent of rage. if anything it kept the exarch on edge for the most part. but as the fight went on, svent seemed to loose steam so to speak. his form still held the feel of a relentless sand storm, but it was becoming more and more refined, as if the rage and the thirst for vengeance was fading from him. 

the fight lasted for hours, neither of them willing to relent, nether of them willing to give up... but it all had to come to an end sooner or later, and that end came with a unsurprising twist to be honest. 

a loud resonating twing lit up the training grounds like a monastery bell being struck as svent was disarmed. the exarch was quick to claim victory but svent's fist soon met her face mask with the rest of his unrelenting form as he continued his assault. disarmed and out gunned svent still fought on as if he had completely thrown caution out the window. the fight ended with the exarch grasping hold of svent's skull with her hand and kicking his chest to rip his mask free. svent skidded back and fell to a knee, dazed, confused, and at a loss for what was going on. the feel of a weapon in his hand was the only thing that got him to his feet and in a battle stance, eyes locked on the exarch who held his mask in her hand.

dusk fell upon them with the exarch clutching svent's mask in her hand. straightening herself our she addressed her fellow eldar as the leader of the swooping hawks, calling them to battle for a fight ahead. but svent was still left wanting. the aspect of adventure, new sights, new sounds, new places to go and explore wreaking havoc in the back of his mind, his wonder lust still not sated after so many years. 

with the call to battle announced svent found himself instructed to stay behind, his experience grounds for sitting this battle out, this was news svent didn't take well, but he kept his protests to himself, not voicing his anger at this decision, however it was plastered across his face. as the swooping hawks left... svent began to plot and plan... he would not be left behind, he would enter the battle regardless if he was wanted or not. they were his brothers, his sisters, and he'd be damned if he let some poncy exarch tell him that he wouldn't fight or render aid.


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

*Carane*

After the exertions of the battle and training Carane certainly needed a rest. A brief meditation offered brief relaxation, yet also told her what she has feared all along:
She had never been arrogant but, now that they had been attacked in their own domains, she knew that there was little she could be certain of anymore.
Lives snuffed out in an instant, dreams lost, destinies unfulfilled.
Inside she wept yet found it hard to open up and cry to fully release the feelings and move on.

Along with trying to learn about other Craftworlds, she suspected that others in the Clan had thought she lacked the stomach for the unending war and approved her posting here.
She tried not to dwell too much on the reasons behind it and just to enjoy her time in unfamiliar surroundings, learning as much as she could. Yet, recent events had been a turmoil and she needed to centre herself much more than her own small prayer-shrine could never hope to accomplish.

Feeling the need to purge herself of any mistakes that she had made, Carane changed clothing so that she now wore a tasteful long pale yellow robe -her Clan's colours for apology and reconciliation- along with a deep scarlet sash with the double icons Saim Hann and the Craftworld she now called home. Her long hair was tied into plaits, held by a ribbon of the same colour as the sash.

Her journey to the Dome of Seers was quick and uneventful, but it still took her several moments to cross the threshhold as though reticent to see what she might find there.
Stepping through the portal, she began to realise why there was truly no place like the Dome anywhere else on a Craftworld.

Studded with hundreds of crystals, an occasional parchment and scrying stones that she had only ever heard about, the place was a true wonder:
Soft bells tinkled in the half-breeze...perhaps stirred by the brave voices and spirits of the passed (still remembered and recalled) as they waited to be called upon again?
Although she was no Seer and didn't really understand their ways, it was still a powerful image that refused to leave her whilst she was in this place.

To one side, on a nearby bench was the form of someone she thought she should be able to remember...cursing inwardly for her failure of clarity, there had been so many new faces and unfamiliar bearings that it was hard to recall everybody.

'Nothing ventured nothing gained', she figured and approached at a respectful distance.
The warrior woman's bearing was noble and forthright, yet perhaps in pain.

"Excuse me, but I have the feeling I should know you. However, things are so new here that I have barely had time to talk to anybody. 

"My name is Carane...I was formerly an Artist of Saim Hann...now I am an apprentice Shining Spear seconded to your Craftworld. These places never cease to amaze me...may I sit and take the weight off my legs for a time?"


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

As Eldranna faced down the defiant corsair Orlath, the assembled warhost waited in anticipation of the arrival of the great seer himself. The argument had faded into background noise when Eldrad finally arrived, looking with approaval at the assembled warriors with his helm carried under one arm and his other carrying his signature staff. When his eyes fell to where the Autarch should have been his smile turned into a scowl. 

He panned his gaze across to where the corsair's vessel was stationed, and the two figures talking heatedly before it. He approached calmly and placed a hand on Eldranna's shoulder. 

'Resume your position Autarch.' He said. 'A coward is a hindrance, better he be off the battlefield than in our way.' 

The two of them left the corsair behind, not sparing him a backwards glance as they rejoined the column ready to leave. The two of them donned their helms and with a simple gesture, the column moved out. 

* * *​
The outpost of Norris Fall was once an Imperial strongpoint, but had since fallen into disrepair and been reduced to a mere checkpoint along the Servants of Chaos supply lines. It was vital, but the Imperials had thus far ignored it in favour of more valuable and safer targets to commit their forces to. 

Over the last year, it had seen a huge increase in activity since a warband of the Iron Warriors had begun taking advantage of it. Now, almost half a battle company was stationed here to secure it against the now higher likelihood of attack. All pretense of infiltration had been dropped and full scale war was well underway. 

Silhouetted against the grey horizon, the now fortified outpost was a vision of death to any potential attackers. To lay siege to it by typical means would require an enormous commitment of forces. 

Or a potent distraction... 

* * *​
'Order the advance.' Jacob ordered. 

'Inquisitor?' The Colonel asked. 'We cannot take that fortress. My men are no match for astartes!'

The Inquisitor turned to face the impudent colonel in the command room. The officer's forces had been dispatched to this sector without reason at the Inquisitor's order without reason, and the colonel had protested every step of the way.

'You cannot begin to understand my methods Colonel, nor the greater scope of my plan.' Jacob Mykyas fumed. 'Order your men forward. Order your tanks to open fire. Victory can be ours here, but some sacrifice will be required.' 

* * *​
Eldrad stood aided by his two attendant warlocks as he extended his considerable sense to see what was happening within the complex. There was movement, a lot of it. Around him hovered the many runes of his calling and he studied them as closely as he studied the events on the edge of his sight. The timing was as he had predicted thus far, the mon-keigh attack was underway and the defences were being redirected, unaware of the hidden eldar. 

He boarded his wave serpent and signalled the advance. As one, the line of Wave Serpents and Falcons moved out, forming a weaving pattern of death as they closed the distance. Defensive turrets noticed the approaching craft too late and even then struggled to form a lock on the elegant grav tanks as they wove to and fro. Suddenly the formation broke, allowing three falcons to the fore as they lined up their weapons. They slowed just enough to allow their pulse lasers to open fire. Three of the turrets lining the western wall were reduced to smoldering wrecks under the onslaught, but the damage did not go unpunished. 

One of the falcon tanks was pinned by two of the remaining turrets and breached, crashing to the ground with an indignant crack. Even wounded the tank sought to kill, its turret still able to move and claiming another turret before it was finished off by a third shot to its hull. 

The rest of its squadron continued to draw the turrets fire, allowing the transports to unleash their cargo just outside the fortress. At two points, fire dragons and wraithguard approached, levelling their weapons and forcing new openings.

The attack was well underway.

Eriel, Jae: The two of you with your respective squads and exarchs follow the fire dragons through the breach. The dragons immediately take up defensive positions behind the first of the barriers they find, a group of parked transports, and allow the avengers and banshees to take the spearhead of the assault. 

You are met almost immediately by several squads of heretic soldiers, indentured slaves to the Iron Warriors. These men are desperate and almost frenzied, but will cause you little difficulty.

Upon their swift defeat, a voice behind you compels you to continue forward. Eldranna stands there, escorted by a contingent of guardians. You press forward, towards what seems to be the primary building of the complex before being ambushed from the side by a squad of Chaos Space Marines. Their armour is a dull metal in colour bearing foul runes of the Primordial Annihilator. Two Avengers and three Banshees die in the initial attack before your squads rally. Each of you will find yourself fighting a corrupted marine by whatever means you can. One of your respective squad will aid you each, but even so you will not be able to finish your foes this update. Through the heat of combat, you may glimpse Eldranna duelling with the squad's champion. You are unable to render assistance. 

Svent: You have by no means been on the path long enough to let a simple stand down order keep you from rendering assistance. So it was only natural that you turned your other skills towards infiltrating the guardian squad that now escorted the autarch Eldranna. With her, you followed the aspect warrior squads into the breach and with your squad hold back the initial wave of human soldiers from the left even as the warriors push forward. You're carrying a shuriken catapult and your own knife, wearing a helmet to conceal your infiltration. Try to fight like you expect a guardian would. Eldranna will cut down three of the humans herself while you among the squad finish the rest.

Afterward, Eldranna issues the order to continue forward and you follow the Banshees and Avengers towards the complex's primary structure. Being behind the aspect warriors, you and your squad witness the emergence of the tainted marines before the warriors themselves can react. Three of them die to the initial bolter salvo before the warriors react to engage. Eldranna triggers her wing pack, darting forth to engage the unit champion in a duel. At this stage you can either add your fire to that of your squad, or risk exposing your presence by trying to catch the Chaos Champion from behind. Whatever you choose, the fight will not be resolved this update.

Drasi: You had been observing the initial attack from several hundred metres out, hidden in the shadows with the reserve force. Alongside you was the shining spears and the swooping hawk aspect squads. As soon as you saw the defence turrets go down, you all set into motion. You have a borrowed jetbike for this endeavour, alowing you to fly over the walls once the turrets have been destroyed. You land atop the ramparts, drawing sword and pistol. Your objective is to work your way towards the Northern wall where the mon-keigh siege is taking place. You will encounter the odd human sentry, but these will be easy to overcome.

Within short order you establish a firing position where you can see the tainted mon-keigh firing upon their loyalist brethren from the ramparts. You watch as the swooping Hawks perform a flyover attack, demolishing another turret with their grenades. Before they can retreat however, one of their number is shot down, her flight pack suffering damage and she lands heavily just inside the wall. She lays still, and there is no way to tell from here whether she is still alive. The constant rain of shells from the attacking humans and the threat of a wandering patrol finding her means she is vulnerable, as the rest of her squad are forced to retreat. Nobody has noticed you yet. You can stay here and snipe those manning the walls as was the intent of your instructions, or you can hastily run back down the now clear ramparts behind you to your jetbike to perform a rescue, though this will abandon all hope of stealth and could see you both killed. Make your decision, the consequences will be resolved next update.

Requiel. Kendra: You two along with Requiel's wraithguard squad form the escort for Eldrad Ulthran as he leads you towards the complex's southern barracks lay. 

*'He is up ahead.'* Eldrad explains to you. *'Our target. He must not survive at any cost.'*

*'I do not understand.'* One of his other warlocks asks. *'Do we not seek the destruction of this outpost?'*

*'Eldranna will see to that.'* Eldrad replies. *'There is an individual here that must be stopped, for in the coming days he will usurp his master's position and form a far greater threat in the course of this war.'*

Reflect on this, why did Eldrad not inform anyone?Even his own apprentices were ignorant of his motive here.

With this information, he directs you forth with renewed purpose, but you do not need to go far. The attack has become evident to all within the walls and they begin to emerge to form their counterattack. A squad of ten tainted astartes approach, their leader drawing the seer's gaze with a palpable ire. 

*'Kill them all.'* Eldrad orders, the command mimicked moments later by the marine champion as he lifts his glowing blade high.

Kendra, you lead Eldrad's apprentice warlocks in a charge along the left flank as the wraithguard approach along the right. This is where your combat training will pay off as the three of you in concert will fight an astartes each to keep them out of Eldrad's duel. You are dimly aware of the champion thundering past, his attention focused entirely on the farseer. Keep fighting, though your own duel will not be resolved until the next update. These are Chosen of Chaos you fight, they will not be light opponents.

Requiel, your wraithguard react to your command even as you react to Eldrad's, striding forth and vaporizing several of the astartes ahead of you. Through your sight, their aim is perfect and a second salvo eliminates two more. The last two survivors hit hard however with lethal results. One of your wraithguard is cut to pieces by a shimmering power weapon while another is shattered instantly by a crackling powerfist. The other two wraithguard react, swinging their heavy cannons and hurling the sword wielder from his feet. The marine with the power fist however succeeds in crushing the weapon of his foe and prepares to strike down the unarmed wraithguard. You must react quickly, duel one opponent and allow the wraithguard you have left to team up against the other. But which will you face, the agile sword wielder now rising to his feet or the cumbersome but lethal powerfist user?

Carane: You were waiting alongside the swooping hawks and the ranger as the initial attack took place. Upon breach of the walls you take to the skies. Splitting off from the ranger and hawks with your squad, you have been instructed to target a small barracks near the southern corner. This, based off information provided by the collaborative inquisitor Mykyas, houses an entrance to an underground tunnel. You will encounter a group of human soldiers here attempting to secure the position.One squads worth, no challenge at all for the four of you.

During this, you hear the sound of wraithcannon discharge followed by the sounds of battle nearby. Eldrad was under escort by that unit as you recall, and if he is under attack he may require assistance. Your exarch is adamant on holding the position despite his opinion that it is ill suited to the aspect. For this reason, it should be reasonably easy for you to convince him to allow you to leave and render assistance. You need to be convincing. If you need help here, PM me and we can work out a dialogue. 



OOC: Big plot point is coming up, so don't be shy now. :biggrin:


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

It was time for battle, Eriel could taste it in the air. Every warrior present full of anticipation, as Eldrad strode into position among his soldiers.
Apart from the wraithguards and the witches everybody with there warmasks on.
Eriel himself had not felt more ready for battle, he had adorned his warmask with ease, much easier than he was used to. But still something was not quite right, but he could not figure out what and there was no time to ask anyone for advice. It would have to wait to the aftermath of the battle.

Eriel and his squad was released almost onto the walls of the enemy outpost, breaches melted into the wall by the weaponry of the fire dragoons, that were already advancing through to the inside of the fortified wall. Eriel and the Dire Avengers quickly followed them inside, and as the Dragoons took cover behind some enemy vehicles, the Dire Avengers opened up a coordinated fusilade of shuriken fire into the frenzied enemy soldiers that was counter attacking. Many of them simply cut down, by there lack of self preservation. But it also meant the enemies was getting closer that much faster. There return fire being pitiful inaccurate, and the shots that hit, only making small dents or scorch marks on the superior armour of the aspect warriors. But as the chaos troops were about to scream there warcry and charge the Dire Avengers, seemingly out of nowhere a squad of Howling Banshees crashed into the unaware humans, slaughtering them to a man. Only Exarch Aldrakkan having the weaponry and skill to follow the banshees into the bloody merciless melee.

Autarch Eldranna, standing behind with her escort, ordered the battle formation forward towards the central building, as they had defeated the first wave of humans. To Eriel one of the guardians moved in a way, that gave him a feeling of deja vu, but couldn't quite but his finger on where and when. But he didn't have time to think about it, as the formation quickly moved forward, suppressive shuriken fire being sent towards the building and the ramparts.

Halfway towards the building, all hell broke loose, as metal grey chaos marines ambushed the formation. Before everybody had reacted to the fight several Dire Avengers and Howling Banshees torn apart by the primitive but powerful explosive shells of the enemy's bolter weaponry.

The world exploded in noise shouts, orders and counter orders. The noise of the burst of enemy bolter fire exploding against what ever cover, eldars are using or simply fired into the air, where moments before a banshee had been. The shrill piercing sound of shuriken fire fired on full burst, as eldar was scampering for cover.

Eriel ducked behind cover together with one of his squad mates, they quickly comming into a shooting duel with one of the chaos marines. His obscene runes, making it hard for the Dire Avengers to keep there aim on him for long. And there shurikens seeming to be unable to pierce the armour of the marine. Eriel was once again reminded, as he had so many times before in battle, that nomatter how primitive humankind seemed corrupted or not, there aptitude for warfare was impressive, and there instruments of destruction are quite powerful and something to respect.

As the battle progressed around them, Eriel once spotted the Autarch in duel with the Chaos Champion, but it was quickly interupted by another bolter fusillade against his cover. Eriel and his squadmate was forced to abandon the crates they had been hiding behind, as they were torn apart by the explosive rounds. Eriel threw one of his plasma grenades towards the marine, the explosion and the shuriken fire of his mate making the marine duck behind the wall ruins of a old building. 
Eriel sought cover behind a cargo truck, that was close to the ruined building, his squadmate hiding behind a hardened concrete obstacle.

Communicating with his Squad mate, Eriel expressed his intention of sneaking around the Vehicle and hit the marine ambush in the flank, asking for cover fire.


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## andygorn (Apr 1, 2011)

Dispersing from the main formation to take station at the Southern bunker entrance, Carane's helmet magnified her vision:
With the attack underway, Carane had thought to see more of the debased cultists that usually swelled the ranks of the Fell Gods, yet these foes were evidently more heavily armoured, just like the ones she recalled from her own Craftworld's battle-stories.

'Don't get distracted, steel yourself for the coming fires' she reminded herself. Sometimes she feared she might become caught up in the battles for their own sake...the flash of duelling lasers and shurikens, the fiery blooms of explosions and wreckage. Such an existence was far off for one of her inexperience, but she was aware it was an ever-present possibility for her kind.

Re-focussing on her duties, evidently at least some of the humans had sought to establish a strongpoint behind sandbags and a gun emplacement, manhandling a bulky autocannon into position to strafe their lines.
Almost silently, hundreds of discs slashed through the air, carving open nearly half of the defenders as well as making a mockery of their hasty defences, yet they had been almost too late as the heavy gun began to frantically swivel, pouring shells at any Eldar which came into view.
Had the humans stayed on-target and concentrated their fire, they may have provided a real threat, but the sporadic and wild automatic firing which they threw up instead served them ill.
With searing bolts of lasgun fire splashing across the Spears' canopies, or cutting the air beneath the agile jetbikes, a second pass saw the humans cut down in their makeshift trench, unable to defend themselves from four directions at once.

With the nearest threat ended for the moment, the Exarch's restless motions on his mount spoke volumes about his eagerness to enter the fray instead of being held on the flanks, unable as yet to make a significant impact.

The battle-awareness of the squad went up to another level as they heard the dull crumping sounds of explosions and the high-pitched whine of replying wraithcannons.

"Sir, I do not mean to be disloyal, but Lord Eldrad may be in danger. I am sure that he knows what he is doing, but there may be times which even he cannot account for.
"The foe may yet attempt escape via these doors but, whilst we wait for them, can I have permission to leave the unit and scout to his area?
"If it is nothing and he wishes us to remain here, I shall return immediately, but if he needs assistance, I will communicate let you know to come and I will do my best to help him against the foe in the meantime until you arrive.

"We are one of the fastest units in this army, and one of the swiftest Spear Shrines on this Craftworld; you have taught us well. But if we lose Lord Eldrad, he will not be merely a 'casualty', or this a 'battle lost', or even a 'world lost'...his passing will shall be mourned by each and every remaining Craftworld soul.

"If I am elsewhere and I am needed here instead, then I will do my best to hurry back, but I take whole responsibility for my actions and for any ill consequences which occur if my absence causes them and where my presence would have made that difference."

"Just like Asuryan's chariot of old, my steed is also anxious to chase down the foes without mercy...let me do what we have trained for."


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## Yru0 (May 9, 2011)

The transports insulated them from the sounds of battle, the dull thunder of cannons and frequent bursts of communications pumping the warriors' bodies full of adrenaline, Jae felt herself tightening at the tension, trying in vain to calm her thoughts for the coming storm. It was a tiny, seemingly insignificant, green light that shone in her helm that pierced every other sensation of the world, a single blinking indicator that the endless time of waiting was finally over. As one, the squad stood stoic still, the glowing eyes of masks and the slight shimmer of their blades illuminating the interior of the transport, until the doors descended and they lent their cries to the symphony of war.

The banshees were directed straight at their target, a lethal swarm of harpies deposited into the belly of the beast; they moved like a river, flowing deftly, gracefully, over and around obstructions to reach their foe. Jae found herself sprinting past a squad of Dire Avengers who were mercilessly engaging the hated enemy. Her sword soon soaked in warm red blood, Jae found her screech turning to cackling laughter as she and her sisters cut down the tide of Mon'keigh, their howls of war now cries of terror. Autarch Eldranna stood leading the charge with her personnal escort, Jae felt herself swarming forward along with her squad, the cries of the banshees joined by that of other eldar who followed their Autarch deeper into the bastion of the great foe.

As the eldar advanced upon what seemed to be the primary building of the complex, Jae began to feel a nagging sensation, that something was off; it was a natural instinct honed into a warrior through endless hours of training and experience, the resistance they had thus far encountered had been far below her expectations, and the route to apparently the main structure was clear, it could not bode well. Jae pushed aside the stray thoughts, the Exarchs and the Autarch would lead them true, and any doubts in her mind would lead to her own demise; the squad stormed oblivious onward, until one of Jae's sisters erupted into a cloud of gore.

The sound of the explosive shell and the cries of the attackers reached Jae a split second after she had witnessed the sudden death of her fellow Banshee, and in that time the formation of banshees shattered as each soldier dived for cover as per their training, their armour simply could not withstand such a bombardment. Jae was one of the lucky ones, she found herself behind the wreck of a twisted Mon'keigh vehicle, and therefore was saved the scarce cover it provided; other's were cut down where they stood. Jae saw a banshee realize her hopeless situation, and with her dying breath tried to launch herself at the advancing foe, before being disemboweled mid-leap; whilst a Dire Avenger crouched down to one knee, his futile action of defiance with his weapon buying the precious few moments needed for his brethren to reach safety. 

The metallic explosions of bolt rounds detonating on the opposing side of Jae's cover accompanied the arrival of one of her sisters, who narrowly avoided death thanks to her battle prowess. The two of them exchanged a glance of mutual joy in seeing the other still alive, before the hammering of the ricochets ceased long enough for Jae to loose a few pitiful return shots from her shruiken pistol, the measly barrage serving its purpose of allowing her to survey their situation. As Jae duck back down before the Mon'keigh realized that he could easily weather whatever projectile she fired his way, she explained her plan to her squadmate; there was two more pieces of cover closer towards their assailant, which Jae believed to be a lone Mon'Keigh, the two of them would have to dash past his fire, and, even if he managed to hit one of them, he would not have long enough to stop the other from reaching her goal. The two women nodded in understanding before throwing themselves out from behind the transport, their sudden appearance matched with the flash from their firearms. All they had to do was run.


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## Thebluemage2 (Feb 16, 2012)

Athbra looked at the wall he was meant to crush,he had just witnessed to fall of a Falcon,and was going to exact part of his vengence upon this wall,he readied his fusion gun and opened fire on the monstrosity,yelling a savage war-cry along with his brothers-in-arms as he did so.
The Warcry soon turned into a laugh as he and four of his fellow Fire Dragons easily created a opening in the Mon-keigh's disgusting example of a "Defense",why,a new-born could design stronger walls!
He stoped fireing when the opening was deemed sufficent,and followed the squad Exarch,a Female Eldar by the name of Quanti, who led them thrue the opening to seek cover behind what the Slaves of Chaos deemed vehicles,Rhinos by the look of them,surprisingly similer to there loyalist counterparts,while his fellows set up fireing positions,Athbra took out several Melta-charges and waited until their Close-combat cousins went ahead of them before getting ready to arm them.

_"I shall leave the gifts of the Dragon to deny these primates use of these....Vehicles_" Athbra stated with a bit of disgust at the end and quickly got to work arming the Melta-bombs in cruical areas of the Rhinos,such as in the engines and the unarmoured rear.


As soon as the Melta-bombs were set,Quanti ordered the Fire-Dragons to follow close behind the the other aspect warriors, when they were about twenty feet away from the Rhinos,Athbra detonated the charges,reveling in the following explosion like a artist marvels at his master-piece,Watching how the metal was blasted away in a glorious symphany of destruction and laughing at how frail their "Rhinos" were.

"_Yes,this is a appropiate vengence for the fallen falcon._ Athbra said to noone in pariculer, sounding satisfied.


Unfortionly, Athbra's awe was inturupted by a yell of alarm,Athbra turned to see several squads of "Normal" Heritecs who hardly looked fit to fight_"Then agan,when are the slaves of chaos ever fit to fight_?" Athbra quitly asked himself as he scaned over their enemy's forces.

"_*All infantry*_" Athbra thought with a hint of dissipointment, they would be unable to contribute to this battle in a meningful way,even as he thought this,the "skirmish" was over and he watched the last of the humans bleed out on the ground, they almost imedadiatly started moving agan.

As Athbra followed behind the Bansees and Avengers, he heard a loud cry from the front,
"_Ambush_!" A Howling bansee shouted before being cut-down by the Chaos Space-Marines who seemed to have materialised out of no where,
"_That death shall cost you 5 Marines, Slaves_!" Athbra shouted with the fury his aspect was known for,but before he could take a shot Quanti put her hand on his shulder,stoping him from firing, and saying in a voice that warrented no argument "_There is nothing we can do hear.We must press on._"
Athbra wanted to argue,but he knew it would only waste time and submited,offering a quick prayer for his fallen kin before they moved around the conflict.

"_To that building,My Dragons!That is our destination!_"Quanti orderd as she pointed towards a large building that seemed to be the Command structure a short distence away that strangly seemed to be unguarded.

Athbra had the stange feeling that this endever would not end well,"_*Why would they leave a command center unguarded?"*_He suspicisly thought to himself, but he pushed that thought away as he followed Quanti towards the accursad building,excited at the prospect of battle.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Drasi was already moving as the attack started. He vaulted into the saddle of the jetbike resting beside him and activated it. The vehicle hovered for a second before taking off and Drasi shot off towards the fort. He leaned in close to the jetbike to minimise the target he would present even though there was little chance of him being spotted. He set it on a course and killed the main engines so that it could glide to a halt. He waited a moment and then pushed off from the jetbike.

He landed almost silently and drew his sword and pistol in one swift movement. He paused for a second, taking in his surroundings before moving. He could hear explosions and weapons fire but that was none of his business. He continued running. A patrol rounded a corner and he killed the 2 men quickly, the first losing his head to a sword blow and the second leaving a bloody trail as he slid down the wall, leaving the 2 shuriken stuck in the stone. Drasi saw the swooping hawks fly over him in a delta shape, guns blazing.

He slid into position below the level of the defensive parapet and unlimbered his rifle. He slammed the but against his shoulder and straightened his legs. His eye gazed through the scope and the renegade's head came into view. He exhaled the breath he had been holding as he fired. The monomelecular round crossed the intervening space in a nano-second. Brain and shards of bone erupted from the back of the Chaos worshipper's head and his body staggered backwards and toppled over the wall.

Drasi was about to switch targets when he saw the swooping hawk. She had been hit in her temple's previous bombing run and now lay still in the courtyard. He knew then what he had to do. No doubt there would be some who would dissaprove at him abandoning his position but he would not let her die without attempting to save. Even should he fail he could not let her soul stone fall into the hands of the enemy.

He turned and began to run back to his jetbike. It went against all his survival instincts but just because he was an outcast that did not mean he had lost all sense of duty to his own people...


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Svent moved with the rest of the guardians, mimicking their movements right down to their in sync breathing patterns. he kept his body almost rigid as they followed closely to Eldranna as they entered the breach. the human onslaught of chaos fanatics were easy kills, like kicking gretchin with a spiked boot, it was so easy it was disturbing to svent, this whole thing felt off to him, far to simple even with the humans creating a distraction. 

engaging the humans that moved to try and take their lives svent had to force himself to miss as the guardians opened fire. he aimed down the sights, minimizing their movements, pulled the trigger, and had to actually offset his aim to account for a guardian's accuracy least he give himself away as a ranger who were frankly known for their accuracy. his movements were also slightly slower than an average guardians, not as if he was actively watching them to then do what they did, but to resist the urge to just open up and kill the humans outright rather than what the guardians were doing which he considered playing nice. svent was being damn carefully not to reveal himself so early in the infiltration. 

rather than go for his normal targets of right below a human's nose so that the round would slip on through a weak point in the skull and slice through the spinal cord, or aiming for the heart and lungs, in controlled bursts, or even debilitating shots to further increase an enemy's opening.... Svent fired like a guardian, aiming for just the general center of mass, forcing his shot groupings to become wider than he would like, and also aiming for obvious targets such as the larger cranium of the human onslaught. he could see that the guardians didn't exactly follow any school that showed a decent amount of trigger discipline when they fought off the human fanatics, it was just spray and no need to pray if it hit someone. needless to say they carved through the human meat wall with little effort. 

as the fanatic meat wall was cut down and the ground resembled a butcher's shop that a krootox had stormed through, svent heard the order for the rest of the forces to advance. his mind raced as he forced himself to not let his eyes race to find new threats, he let it appear as if he had let his guard down some just as some of the other guardians did. when the chaos marines appeared Svent forced himself to be just milliseconds behind the first reaction from the guardians as they opened fired. he didn't even aim for the eyes of hte marines! he forced himself to make the same mistakes he saw the guardians making to keep himself undercover. 

svent watched as the eldar up front died to a salvo of bolter fire, eyes now focusing on the same targets the other guardians were, however as the exarch flew off with her wing pack svent's manner of firing started to change as he slowly got the rest of the guardians used ot him not being there even when he was still, well standing right there with them. in essence one minute he was there with them firing on the chaos space marines, the next well... leave it to a ranger to be a sneaky bastard. no one even saw him dissapear so to speak. 

Svent finally managed to pull the proverbial stick out of his ass when he snuck away, quickly slipping back into the feel of being on his own, the only down side in his mind was the shuriken catapult he had as part of his disciuse. 

sneaking along svent maneuvered around behind the chaos champion, getting ready to make his move. if there was one thing rangers were good at, it was moving around without being noticed, even by eldar standards, and svent was no slouch there. waiting untill he was in a proper position svent aimed down his sights, no reason to miss now, no reason to hide... now it was do or let his new teacher die, and to be honest svent wanted to know what she had to offer. she did after all have a rather nice figure in his flawed and twisted opinion.... even if her attitude could use some work.

seeing his chance svent opened fire on the chaos champion, the first few rounds merely as a distraction to open up his target's defenses. he fired from one location and quickly ducked back into hiding, gone from sight and detection. his ploy had done the trick though, a slight hesitation, a slight opening was all he needed as he moved to fire again, this time from a different location where he opened up fully, practically shelling the champion with shurikens. 

the exarch likely wouldn't approve, she'd likely chew him out, beat him around, and discipline him for his actions here... but hey, the fact she'd be able to do that after this battle was worth it in his mind.


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## Serpion5 (Mar 19, 2010)

As Eldranna continued to dart between the clumsy swings of the astartes weapon, her supporting warriors gradually began to gain the upper hand. Eriel succeeded in flanking his adversary with the aid of one of his fellows. Jae and her squadmate charged through the fray. A bolt round clipped Jae's armour ineffectively, but the warrior beside her was less fortunate, being hit directly in the chest and falling lifeless to the ground in a bloody mess. There was no time to mourn the loss, as she closed the gap and ended the life of the marine brutally with a slash across his throat followed by a thrust through his chest plate from her lethal crackling sword. 

Svent, bereft of his usual rifle was forced to rely on a mere shuriken catapult. Turning the unfamiliar weapon to the Chaos Champion that even now was forcing the autarch on the defensive, he unleashed a brief salvo of deadly projectiles. The distraction was enough, giving Eldranna the opening she needed to drive her crackling blade through the tainted marine's neck. As he fell, Eldranna moved to assist one of the Avengers finish off his foe. 

Eriel and his ally succeeded in their flanking maneuver, managing to catch their astartes adversary in two lanes of fire where he could not position himself effectively. Dozens of tiny shurikens found their way through the joints of his armour, rending his joints and crippling him on the ground. It was a simple matter for Eriel to drive his knife between the gap under the marine's helmet and end the wretch's life. 

Quanti led the Dragons the last few metres, signalling the order for the deployment of meltabombs on the supporting pylons of the Command structure. Their advance remained eerily unhindered, and only the sounds of the battle all around accompanied them as they completed their task unhindered and began to withdraw. 

Carane succeeded in convincing the exarch to allow her to leave. As she passed overhead she witnessed Eldrad's triumph over his target as well as his accompanying warlocks succeeding in eliminating the rest of the astartes squad. It appears that asistance was not required after all. This was a relief as she prepared to circle back to where her fellow Shining Spears were waiting. 

Drasi pulled up alongside the wounded Hawk. He leaped off before it had stopped completely and offered his hand. Pulling her to her feet he saw that one of her legs was broken in addition to the damage to her wings. Giving her a hand, he began to move her towards his jetbike. 

* * * 

At the same time as the Melta Bombs detonated, the Imperial Forces succeeded in bringing down the Eastern wall. Two humongous detonations tore the air apart and in that moment all hell broke loose. 

* * *

Drasi: Before you can bring the wounded Swooping Hawk back to your bike, the two simultaneous explosions rock the ground beneath you throwing both of you to the ground. Falling debris pepper the entire complex and ill fortune sees your jetbike crushed by a large chunk of masonry. As you turn to the Hawk you see that she has been knocked out cold, dead or alive is impossible to tell through the armour concealing her form. Will you still try to save her, and carry/drag her limp form back towards the breaches in the western wall to the waiting transports? Or will you assume the worst and evacuate yourself? 

Eriel, Jae, Svent: The Command Structure has been destroyed and the Imperials have breached the base, making it clear that the time has come to withdraw. Even as Eldranna orders the retreat, the Fire Dragons are already making for the exit. All that is left is to gather the spirit stones of the fallen and join the retreat. Do you feel that you could have done more? Do you think the Swordwind should have had a more frontline role rather than sneaking in behind a main assault? Or are you confortable with allowing the humans to take the brunt of the attack?

Athbra: During retreat, one of your fellows is killed by a falling girder. You must stop momentarily to retrieve his waystone, meaning the other warriors and Guardians will escape ahead of you. When you are nearly at the exit, you happen to notice a group of three astartes falling back towards a previously unseen transport in the shadows of another building. You can alert your exarch and divert to try and eliminate these, or you can ignore them reasoning that they are of no threat. 

Carane: All is well with the seers, meaning you are able to rejoin your squad. As the Imperials breach the wall and the Command Tower is brought down, your exarch signals that it is time to retreat. Flying low, you make one last pass over the western side of the base to ensure that all eldar are able to retreat unhindered. You will not notice Drasi's predicament due to focus being drawn elsewhere. As astartes and humans scatter in the mess that is unfolding, you catch a brief glimpse of a humanoid figure that seems to shine with a dim golden glow. It moves quickly among the astartes and after less than a second seems to vanish from view. Perhaps a hallucination but even so this was not natural by the looks of it. Will you dismiss it as a trick of your mind or alert Eldrad to the situation once he and the warlocks are back at their wave serpent? Will you tell any others what you saw, knowing that you were the only one who saw it? 

Requiel, Kendra: Neither of you posted, so cover the previous update then retreat back to the Wave Serpents outside.


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## Thebluemage2 (Feb 16, 2012)

*Honor the Fallen.*

As Athbra finished setting up his many Melta-bombs at the colums of the forbodding command structure, he examend the building more closly,not only was it of inferior make but it was also coverd with the mangled and maimed bodies of mon-keigh and symbols to the disgusting "gods" of chaos. It was a mercy to the galaxy to blow it up.

He watched with barley surpressed glee as Qaunti took out the detonater and, invoking a prayer to the Bloody-handed one, detonated the explosives in a glorious and firery mushroom cloud.

"Such beauty..." Athbra breathed quitly to himself, but he did not have time to truly admire the scene, as two explosions erupted from the eastern wall.

Athbra looked over to Quanti to see if she knew what was going on, he off-handinly noticed her Helment and armour were covered in dust from the explosion{and he imagined he looked the same}.

"Excellent work, my dragans, but it is time for us to leave this forsaken place." Quanti said proudly,"It is time to let the humans pick at the scraps we left them!" 

Athbra growled at this, he knew it was a joke, but he felt it was their duty as Eldar and Fire Dragons to destroy every piece of chaos taint to be found. But the logical side of him knew that would be impractical and to just let the more expendable Humans take care of it.

He noticed that his squad had already started running towards where the escape vehicles were supposed to be while he was lost in thought, and he was about to join them a sudden glare of light hit one of his helment's lens. He turned to it's source and saw nothing but a girder.

"By Fuegan's lance!" Athbar gasped as he saw what had made the light, a figure in deep orange armour was buried under the wrekage. He quickly ran up to see if the Fire Dragon was somehow alive, kneeling before his battle-brother and took off his helm. His face seemed fine at first glance, his noble featurs un-tainted by battle, but as he looked closer it seemed far paler then normal, like all the blood had been drained from it. He began to look down to the chest area to see how much damage he had taken there, and when he saw the ribs sticking out thrue the uncountable gaps and cracks in the armour, he knew he was dead and the armour was unrecoverable.

"Rest, my brother, your sevice to the dragon has come to a end." he whispered to the dead warrior, rejoicing as he found his soul-stone to be unbroken. He put it in a pouch on his waist and got up, the best thing he could do for the fallen warrior was to get his dimmed soul-stone back to the craft-world. Saying one last prayor, Athbra got back to his feet and began running towards where his squad had gone,and noticed with some annoyence that he had fallen behind most of the host. His run had gone by more or less uninterupted, he took in the full sight of the carnage that had taken place, entire areas filled with the corpses of heritecs and destroyed buildings.

He was almost at the exit when he noticed them, 3 hulking figures running towards what looked like a Rhino.

"How could we of missed *that*?" Athbra said to himself, bewildered,"It matters not, there are still pawns of chaos alive and I have not gained vengence for my fallen kin."

He put his armoured hand to his helment's side, where his com was located,but before he could open his squad's channel, a thought came to him.

"_If I alert the host to these traitors pressence, more Eldar blood may be spilled,they may not even be a threat to the host! And if we spend too much time here,we may run afoul of the primitives."_ But as he thought this, his warrior-self once again took control,_"What am I thinking? A trio of Mon-keigh could not possibly stand aganst the vengence of the Fire Dragons!"_

Nodding to himself, he opened the Fire-Dragon channel sent his measage.

"My exarch, I have spoted a small group of what seems to be astartes close to our escape route,shall we enact the Dragon's wrath upon them? They may compromise our escape." Athbra reported as he used his free hand to bring his Fusion Gun to bear.

"_One way or another, the fallen will be avenged."_


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Eriel stood with his warknife stuck deep into the neck of the mon-keigh that had been shooting at them. His tailored genes, training and abilities no match to the flanking maneuver and concentrated firepower of Dire Avengers. But still too many of his brothers and sisters had died this day. The order to retreat had been issued the objectives had been fulfilled, soulstones had been retrieved. Eriel looked up watching the remnants of the Fire Dragoons created mushroom cloud exhaust itself, as the wall that would bring in the untainted mon-keigh crumbled.

Eriel wished to stay, make sure that the taint of chaos was no more, but that would be foolish, it was not the plan nor was it the way of the Dire Avengers, they were not to charge foolishly into battle alone and separate. They were to support the battleline following its flow. Supporting what ever elements that needed them, and now it was covering the retreat to make sure that no more lost there life. So Eriel sheated his knife, picked up his rifle and fell into the familiar movements of disciplined cover and retreat movements, he and his fellow dire avengers had trained decades for.

But somehow Eriel saw they were not the last to exit the base and the battle, the Fire Dragoons being behind them, one individual being further behind. As Eriel reached his wave serpent he saw the last Fire Dragoon turn and open fire with his fusion gun on unseen targets. Eriel stopped on the ramp of the transport, making his exarch aware that there was still Eldar engaged in the battle. Awaiting orders, Eriel kept watching hoping that the Dragoon would survive, there had been enough dead and he didn't want to see another eldar die.


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

svent kept to the shadows as he moved through the ruins of the base. smoking craters, charred corpses, all of these things did wonders to keep the ranger hidden as he discreatly rejoined the rest of the eldar as the battle ended. as the other guardians turned a corner, walking through some smoke left by a fresh battle, svent slipped into the formation as if he had never been gone, sad part was the guardians were none the wiser that he had left in the first place by how they were moving. 

the entire thing felt off to svent, they had the ability to simply wipe these people from the map, and yet all they were doing was causing a distraction? then again distractions were rather fun in themselves, this being no accacption. it wasn't every day the lo'ranga was able to infeltrate a group of guardians, move amongst them and then help save a exarch. the only thing bugging him now was this blasted mask he had to wear to keep himself in disciuse. while they walked svent couldn't help but wonder how it may have turned out if the two forces, eldar and imperial, had joined forces in earnest and not worry about all this stealth and secrecy. he suspected there may have been a lost less casualties than there were. 

once they got back through the gate though svent would have to make himself scarce, dissipating into the thick of the ranks should be fairly easy, it was getting back to the shrine before the exarch that would be the hard part.


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