# A Vyper's Song



## Nizuzen (May 18, 2008)

Hello all,

This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction for 40K. Constructive criticism welcome!

Thanks,

Niz.


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A Vyper's Song:


Plunging through the lush undergrowth, she ran, her throat raw from panicked breathing and the searing gases she had inhaled, spewed forth from the mon-keigh heat weapon. The trees that had been her sanctuary on this world now conspired against her as they whipped her mercilessly with root and branch, impeding her flight from the beasts that pursued her. She had to reach the Way Gate. Others would be waiting there; then the beasts would pay for soiling this world. Her wounds would be tended to, her shattered, ashen armour would be regrown, her bladed reforged, and her bloody vengeance exacted.

White heat exploded in her thigh as the bolter shell ricocheted off her armour, sending her sprawling into the rocky forest floor. Dazed and winded, she clawed onward. Even as she strained with unfocused eyes, she could see the crest of the Way Gate through the trees, the sight renewing her strength. It was not far now. It could not end like this. She was so close to salvation. A line of small explosions ripped through the ground to her right, showering her in mud and pebbles, forcing her into an agonised roll to the left. Gathering her strength, she stood and began to limp forward, her charred right side sending lances of pain through her body as blackened skin cracked and bled under the exertion. As she moved on, soft waves of warmth caressed her body and the pain subsided. She wove along the rocky ground and cold sweat collected on her brow beneath her helm. With each step, the warmth grew, a pleasant tingling overcame her and all the while, in the darkest, deepest recesses of her mind, a seductive laughter snaked its way toward her conscious thoughts. The warmth snapped into cold, hard reality as the massive, armoured fist of the mon-keigh smashed her into the ground.

“Bind it and take it to the landing site for transportation and questioning by Brother Locke.”
“Aye, sir.” The mon-keigh lifted the battered, unconscious Banshee by the arm clear off the ground, reaching his other hand to his belt for the bonds. In in grasp, the Eldar began to stir.

The shadows withdrew and the pain came anew. She stared at the blank red lenses of the mon-keigh's helm and knew her doom. About her, more of the brutal, armoured warriors stood on guard, their weapons levelled at her. The pain in her body was almost gone, as was her strength. She had failed. Craftworld Nal Hadirloc had lost another daughter and would lose many more because of her. Her heart sank and, for the first time, she wished she had died with her sisters in a blast of fiery death, rather than at the slow hands of a bloodthirsty mon-keigh. Hope had almost faded to nothing when she heard the scream of a Vyper. Selfish tears of regret turned to streaming tears of rage. She would not die like this, she would not await her fate like a mindless animal. She would fight. Her free hand hung at her side, lightly brushing her the hilt of her hip-knife. She had killed with it before and she would do so again today. She stared into the faceless mask of the mon-keigh again, channelling her hatred for the grotesque creature before her, her eyes taking in every minute detail: the arrogant spread-eagle, the crude red seals and futile litanies, the brutal, scarred ceramite armour, the soulless nature of the thing. The scream of the Vyper crescendoed as it drew nearer and was joined by others and caught the attention of the mon-keigh before her. Before it could react, she had drawn her blade and plunged it through a red crystal lens, unleashing a blood-choked scream which shattered the other lens as she did. It released her as it slumped to the ground, dead. The Eldar turned, ready to throw herself at her other foes, before tens of tiny explosions ripped through her battered body as the Marines' bolters did their deadly work.

Her soulstone glowed a soft blue as she lay in the forested glade. Her senses faded and a profound peace touched her with its gentle hand. The screaming Vyper passed over her, its cannons blazing, an angel with a song more beautiful than ever she had heard. She had died on the battlefield, a warrior. Peace took her.

The chorus of voices that had flooded her dreams quietened in the presence of the one that called her to battle. “Here is your sword,” it sang, “Awaken, Ehlana, daughter of Nal Hadirloc, for your sisters need you once again. Awaken, Ehlana, wraithlord of Nal Hadirloc.”


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## Talonmaster Raptoris (Jul 5, 2008)

That was awsome!!!!!!:good:


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## TurtleTide (Oct 19, 2008)

i want to no how come no one has read this or replyed for so long? is its because its eldar? well anyway its so so so so so so so very AWSOME!!!!!!!

too bad she had to die tho


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## Concrete Hero (Jun 9, 2008)

Wraithlord.... Mmmmmm


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## Druchii in Space (Apr 7, 2008)

I liked this story alot, well written and a excellent first piece. :good:


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