View Full Version : The Tears of Isha-Eldar RPG

12-03-2006, 13:30
It was silent in the Temple of Isha as Farseer Elui Cython made his peace with the Goddess. The Farseer was fully armoured and prepared for battle. He had been given a task to fulfill by the Masters of Isha and he would not fail in this quest as failure was not an option.

'Farseer, those that have been summoned are awaiting your council,' an attendant said as they melted back into the darkness of the temple.

Cython got to his feet and turned round to leave the Temple, making one last small prayer as he left the Temple. Cython made his way to the Council room that had been given to him for this mission. There waiting was his retinue, an assassination strike team brought together to kill a common enemy. Amongst the retinue there were those that had voluntered and there those that had been summoned by the Farseer, as he had seen them in his visions.

Cython entered and saw that not everyone was present and those that were, were resting or chatting amongst themselves. Farseer Cython made his way to the middle of the Council room and sat down, looking at those that had made it here already.

'Greetings brethren,' Cython said with a bow. 'We still wait for the rest of the retinue, I will begin when everyone is here.'

OoC/Okay get to the council room or already be there. Its your choice. Feel free to make allies, potential enemies and what not, but keep it to a minium. Also you all feel a deep respect for Cython and his aura is that of death itself. As if he is not natural in some way, as in something odd even for an Eldar ok?

So lets get this started!/OoC

12-03-2006, 15:21
H'yllwess O'Naerrhyssis stood, resolutely, in a corner of the stone-clad counsel-chamber.
Her jet Shrine mask, with it's nominally weighty steepled mantle of pearl-studded black chitin mounted on the crown, was set before, with a certain reverance, on an ostentatious side-table of black glass in the fashion of an hourglass.
Her mane of blood-coloured hair swept back, save for fine twin braids reaching her armoured shoulder, framing her oval face.
Her expression was set, insofar as any Eldar countenance could be called stoney - a stance of solid alabaster, in the direction of the Corsair: his own posture more saunterly, his Piratical countenance altogether more nonchalant to her russet eyes than any of the others nobly assembled, and in that moment a sense of rigid, immobilising calmness stole over her, as it might a predator confronted with it's own dark reflection in a looking-glass.
Not presuming to formulate strategy of actions, tactically, in preparation of the forthcoming storm, for the only such thoughts were those of the divinely inspired Seers and Farseers - august masters' of ceremonies in the theatre of war - she tensed and released muscles, preparing to fly under their ministrations.
On the spur of the thought, the great doors yawned wide, and her dark eyes beheld him, being of darkness infinitely more voluminous, paragon of mystery absolute, as the Farseer swept forth, and his words swept likewise, the peal of cosmic bells...

12-03-2006, 17:58
Elendiora glanced around the confines of her prison or as the craftworld eldar had called it, 'chamber' why had she not listened to the old teachings of what these eldar are like, decadent fools.

Just as she prepared to meditate someone entered or rather a group of people entered a 'warlock' and what she had learned to be 'guardians' all stood in their full battlegear, the warlock instructed her that the farseer requested she join him in the council room. She had never seen the farseer since she first arrived on the craftworld and was slightly surprised by this. She was even more surprised when all her equipment was returned to her.

Though she had no idea where this council chamber was that didn't seem to be a problem the 2 guardians following her kept her right, though she knew they were only there to keep her from getting to any of the sensitive areas or access to the webway. What did they think she would do?

At length she found the council chamber and walked in and was slightly taken aback by so many eldar all fully kitted for battle and the farseer. She took a step in and was directed to sit by the farseer.

Tanith Ghost
12-03-2006, 19:56
Ulrik walked in lazily, helping himself to a seat. "Farseer Cython. Good to meet ya. I got passage back home as soon as I got your offer for this mission."
He grinned. "You know I can't resist taking a chunk outa the bad guys."
He twirled his laspistol in is gun hand. He figured between his flippant additude, scruffy looks, and wearing an imperial issue flak jacket, the more conservative eldar were already disaproving of him. Go figure. That's why I skipped town in the first place. Ulrick figured Cython knew he'd get the ranger's full attention once he began. He surveyed his fellow warriors.
A good bunch. Lots of talent assembled here. Aspect warriors, pirates, even an exodite. Ulrik tried to recall what he knew on them. Great. these guys are even more of a country bumkin than me, and don't belive in fun of any kind. These aspect types probably don't approve of relaxing either.

Still, things could be worse. The bug menace could be on the front stoop.
The necrons could be waking up en mass. Hell, the greenskins might've found the place. He refrained from taking out his hip flask. Most of his brethren would take a dim veiw of it, given his already considerable toing of the line.

The Silver Crosses
12-03-2006, 20:15
Anstari Zhai walked in with his Strom guardian squad. He had both blades in cases attached to his back. Looking at the farseer his mind felt the weird mental aroma that encircled Cython.

He kneeled at his presence and so did the rest of his squad. He then looked at the farseer ready for battle...waiting for orders.

13-03-2006, 02:03
'Please have your squad await in the hangar,' Cython said as if in a whisper. It was more of an echo than a voice and the Storm Guardian reflexed quickly.

The rest of the squad departed by a subtle change in Zhai's body posture and the veteran squad filed out smoothly.

Cython's heart weeped as he watched his brethren, the very civilisation of his Craftworld, march out in a military manner. The Guardians on the Garden of Isha were not like those of other craftworlds, but trained soldiers of a military arms that needed to train and was more like an Aspect path than a chosen role in society.

'Ulrik, I would request you remain formal while in this Council room. We are Eldar, are we not?' Cython asked with a look. The Rangers was an outcast more than a proper ranger, but alas he was young and the youth had a fire that Cython envied. Even in his youth, he never had that fire. He was always cold.

Turning to the Exodite, Cython bowed. His ropes follwing him as he knelt to the floor and laid his head low.

'I am Farseer Cython,' Cython said in a low voice. 'Please forgive the abrutness of bringing you here, but you have a role to play in the future to come. Either way, you would have always been here.'

Cython paused and engaged with her eyes.

'Wait Elendiora, all will become clear,' stopping the Exodite from speaking.

Cython then sat back down in the middle, sending a nod to the Banshee as he knew she was watching him. The Banshee was paranoid of him, but that did not matter, such things could easily be overcome.

'We wait for more to arrive.'

13-03-2006, 02:19
Lileath was allready sitting in the room by the time that the Farseer had entered. she sat with her legs crossed and her blade on her knee's she was focusing trying to turn her mind to macth the blade in the mental world. the wraithbone quivered and shot sparks out. She did not know what her next task would be but it was not for her to know. all she had to know was that she was a warrior seer of her people and that she could not fail them.

But she felt odd in the presence of this farseer he was the sorrow she felt for all of her lost brothers and sisters. the Pain that tapped at her heart. She did not care to know why or how he was like this for it could not be good.

Tanith Ghost
13-03-2006, 02:21
"No problem, Farseer." Ulrik said nonchalantly, holstering the laspistol and sitting up straight. Anyone else would've gotten a smart crack about taking the stick out, but Cython had his respect. This guy was the real deal.
Too bad. Wouldv'e been fun to yak with the less stiffnecked warriors there.

The Silver Crosses
13-03-2006, 02:59
Anastari watched his beloved veterans walk out. He had trained them well in the time he had with them...and was proud of them. Now returning his gaze to Cython awaiting his orders that he was sure Cython new would best benefit in the future...wether it be a victory...killing a chaos lord...or hid death and a chance to become a wraith guard. Which ever the path, he was ready to take it.

13-03-2006, 03:53
Yurijah walked into the room, dressed in full combat gear. His fighter had only just docked, after getting leave from his Pirate Prince. Sitting down beside someone who had only moments earlier put his pistol away, he placed both of his own pistols on the table beside him, in case he would need to draw them later on. Next he grabbed a flask from and took a long sip, as he did the world seemed to blur around him, as the intoxicating effects quickly took over, he offered some to the person sitting beside him, not even noticing the fact that he was wearing an imperial flak jacket.
"Wanna sip mate"

Tanith Ghost
13-03-2006, 06:14
"Don't mind if I do." Ulrik said, taking to offered flask. "I was wondering when
a pirate type would show up. Too many stiff necks in this round up."
He took a long swig, enjoying the change from the rum in his own flask.
"Name's Ulrik Deadeye. Ranger with a devil may care attitude, marksmanship like a Cadian, and rumored by some of the more malicious gossips around here to be half human." He shrugged. "Couldn't tell you the bottom line of that if I wanted to. I never knew the old man, and my ma got killed when I was a kid."
He took out the laspistol. "The flak jaket and pistol were my inheritance. Only clues I got as to who my old man was."

13-03-2006, 06:50
Standing off too one side she nodded to the farseer. Would always have been here..?

OOc/ haha we have an inacurate ranger :p basic eldar > cadians ;)

13-03-2006, 11:45
Yurijiah took the flask back and had another sip. "As accurate as a cadian aye? I have to say cadians are pretty bad shots on the main, as are most mon keigh. just call me Yurijiah thats all you really need to know, and if your gonna ask about my arm, it was blown off, a lucky shot really from a mon keigh, its constantly in need of replacements, my body seems to reject bionic implants."

13-03-2006, 18:06
Sinking to one knee, her head lowered in humble supplication at the Farseer's nod of recognition, H'yllwess raised her deep russet gaze, beyond her crimson hairline brows, towards the Exodite.
With such discreet intensity her eyes absorbed that tall, unknowable figure: the narrow face, of seeming marble, of what flawless creation.
Her eyes, twinned mirrors of glinting jet, to reflect back the viewers gaze of adoration.
Her hair, each strand indistinguishable in the light, yet gleaming in turn, as if lacquered, lovingly - the very colour of midnight, drawn back and bound.
And the very garb she wore: her hooded cowl, her cloak of some dark, preternatural material, devoid of ordinary thread or fibre which transcended even earthly colour, as it appeared at once deep red, then dark green, then darker blue, then regal purple - over and upon which H'yllwess's unerring sight slipped and scrabbled, and failed to find focus.
With harshly tightened breath the Banshee struggled to regain inner composure - harsher still as she observed the Farseer himself kneel to one who had heeded, or who's ancestors had done so.
To one who had foresaw, so divinely, ultimate inevitability - and the horror therein.
To a Farseer - as to H'yllwess - such eminence must lie within that cloaked countenance.
Dropping her eyes now to the cold stone floor, somewhat hastily, she resisted squeezing them shut, and exhaled, slowly, steadily, silently, so she hoped. And prayed.

Tanith Ghost
13-03-2006, 18:18
"Cadians? These guys make our own guardians look like trainees. The great enemy's been on their case since day one and still ain't so much as got their foot in the door yet. You can say what you like, but I've seen these humans fight. These boys are the real deal." He took out his own flask, took a sip and offered it to Yurijiah. "Underestimatin those primitives would be a big mistake.
I've had scrapes with mon-keigh before. Pirates, crooks, that type. They couldn't hit the broadside of a craftworld. Cadians though, these guys might as well be married to their lasguns. Helped them out once against a cult of the enemy goddess. Once you've seen them, you don't wonder why the humans are practicly rulin this galaxy."

OOC//Marksmanship with a 24" range weapon>12" weapon.
Cadian trooper> Eldar guardian.

The Silver Crosses
13-03-2006, 20:04
Zhai's gaze wandered to the others in the room. The rangers were in numerous supply which...was unusual he thought to himself. There was the fareer of course...an exodite. This he had encountered them once...kind of an aggresive group if you asked Anastari. Then he saw the banshee...quite a creature of destruction. The armour colours of her craftworld..unlike his black armor. his helmeted face then looked at the ground wondering what lies ahead.

Tanith Ghost
13-03-2006, 20:12
"You guys really need to learn how to relax." Ulrik said to no-one in particular.
"No point gettin demoralized now. We're not even out the front door yet."
He said to the storm guardian. "Care for a belt?" He asked, offering the flask.
"Watch out though. This stuff's got a kick like grox."

The Silver Crosses
13-03-2006, 20:24
The storm guardian shook his head. "Have not drunk the stuff in ages. Don't think I will now either. Thank you though." he said. Realizing he was kinda harsh he continued. "I have had bad experiences with the liquid...getting myself into bad situations...in battle...at home, and such. Enjoy it though." he said nodding his head. He then noticed the flak armor which he had been eaves dropping and interested in what this ones past might be. He studied it and then looked at Ulrik. "Have you ever tried looking in an imperial record for a battalion with similiar colors my friend?" he asked. "I'm sure it would be easy to find out...the mon-keigh codes are easy to crack...besides the adeptus legions of course."

Tanith Ghost
13-03-2006, 22:25
"Might be something to look into later on." He said, nodding his thanks the storm guardian. He looked over at the banshe. "So what's your story, doll?"
She was kitted for bear, no doubt about that. He knew those masks were
bad news for whoever fought banshees. And the swords they carried were on the level to say the least. The armor was less the concealing, granted, but most likely for freedom of movement than to show off. Not bad looking to boot. Forget it mate. Said the voice of common sense in the back of his mind. She's probably sworn to celibacy or something along those lines. Besides, when's the last time any craftworlder looked at you with anything but disdain? He mentaly shrugged, waiting to see if the 'doll' crack was toing the line too much.

The Silver Crosses
13-03-2006, 23:42
Anastari nodded and then listened to him talk to H'yllwess in the way that he did. He hoped she would not cut his head off for he knew banshees had very short tempers...if any.

14-03-2006, 03:22
Yuijiah laughed to himself as the ranger tried to crack onto the Banshee in front of him. Whether he survives this will set the tone for the mission, leaning over to him he whsiper in his ear. "If she kills you, can i have your stuff"

Tanith Ghost
14-03-2006, 04:05
"She kills me, you can have my rum flask." Ulrik replied in a whisper. "She even answers me I owe you a drink." Ulrik fought down the urge to laugh.
"Aloof, maybe. Short tempered, I'll find out."

14-03-2006, 11:25
OOC//Marksmanship with a 24" range weapon>12" weapon. Cadian trooper> Eldar guardian.

OOC/ If were going by weapons ranges, then a ranger would be range 36" and hence far more accurate or have greater marksmanship than a cadian.

14-03-2006, 12:46
OoC/Guardians and Cadians have the same accuracy and no self respecting Eldar would compare themselves to the Cadians. A Ranger is far superior to a Cadian markmans and as to the weapon difference, GamesWorkshop screwed them, not the fluff Tanith.

So quit belittling your Eldar nature./OoC

Farseer Cython began to regret the strands of fate he saw. How could he get stuck with a self hating Eldar Ranger? Something was amiss, but if Cython had a choice and was not tied to the strands of fate, he would kill the Ranger for the multiple insults he had already delivered.

'Ulrik, I would prefer you kept your self hating ways to yourself,' Cython said with a knife edge to his voice. 'The Monkeigh is weak and blind, their race is nothing more than a virus that is destroying our universe. They are a plague, Ulrik, nothing more.'

Cython paused as he then turned to everyone.

'The Old Ones created them, for whatever purpose it is lost to time, and they are a blight. They land on planets and elliminate any indegious life and mutliply. They do not understand the harmony of the Universe. They soil Isha's name!' Cython cursed as his fist banged hard against the table, bringing a strange eerie silence. 'Now I would prefer this type of conversation to end, Ranger Ulrik.'

Cython became silent as a dark fury radiated from the Farseer. Clearly he had no love of the Humans.

Tanith Ghost
14-03-2006, 16:43
Ulrik shrugged. "Up to you. But let me ask you something. If they're such a plauge, and we're so much better, why aren't we runnin the show anymore?
That's one of the things I could never stand about craftworld life. Too much pride and not enough reality. I'd figure if we were the better race, we wouldn't be so full of ourselves that we hate everyone else. Up to you how you look at the rest of the universe, boss. But personaly, I reserve my hatred for the great enemy."

OOC//Hey, I'm a rebel.:p And I've done the feild work to know what Cadian quality is. Or rather I like em for the way they show up chaos at every turn.
My character does hate chaos over all things and respects those who fight against it.

14-03-2006, 18:05
'You know the story of our race, child of Isha,' Cython said quietly. 'They battle against Chaos, but also harbour it, bring it to bare. They are easily corrupt and will bring the end of our universe.'

Cython paused and looked Ulrik in the eyes.

'I see many paths when I use my abilities and one that was shown to me I shall not speak of, but the humans were the Heralds of Destruction,' Cython said as if mournful.

14-03-2006, 19:05
H'yllwess raised her head slowly, as she deemed reverant protocol to allow, rising to her feet as the subdued war of words raged between the swaggering Ranger - so infuriatingly amiable in his discourse with the Piratical scavenger O'Naerrhyssis had earlier briefly surmised, so darkly presumptious in his show of regard for her armoured loveliness, so obscenely nonchalant in his manner before the haunting figure of the Farseer (he, and the lily virtue of the Exodite) - and Lord Cython, that same arch-scryer of the stars.
Fire and frost warred within H'yllwess's chitinous brassier, within her spine, within her soul, as she maintained respectful calm, resistant to the ever-present rage within her, the incandescent, shattering, piercing divine mania that lay within the armoured breast of every Banshee.
If her expression flinched, she didn't heed it.
Stilling her vibrant heart, she concentrated inward once again, and prayed wordlessly, as did a Sister, to the private, hidden idol currently occupying her pearl-lidded, navel-set Soulstone, to the zinging, shining ikon of the Lady: Zar.
But in the swimming heat of the chilled chamber - heated with words and holy breath - in her mind's eye all she could see was the blindingly pure figure of the Eldar Exodite within the very room.
She seemed to represent H'yllwess herself, prior to the blessed agony of Enshrinement, existing, innocent, free from sin, foetally treasured in the facted shell of the Soulstone.

That figure seemed to exude pious virtue from every carameline pore.

In that moment of reverie, H'yllwess herself felt dizzyingly less than pure.
In the direction of the Farseer, to Isha, she prayed silently, wordlessly, piercingly, for the cold heat of battle.

OutOfCharacter: Silver Crosses: H'yllwess wears black and gold, (http://www.warseer.com/forums/showthread.php?p=522890#522890) mainly, not green.
Slazton: Has Bmaxwell PMed you? Is he on his way?

Tanith Ghost
14-03-2006, 19:57
"Not one word. You owe me a gin." Ulrik said quietly to the pirate. No big deal.
He figured the banshee wouldn't have anything to say to him. It was a damn miracle she even bothered to give him a dirty look. He turned to the storm guardian. "I may be an irregular and a rebel, but push comes to shove I won't let you down. Same goes for you, miss." He added to the banshee. "I know you probably can't stand me right now, seeing how I can't seem to take anything seriously. But I know the score. Might not seem like it, but you can count on me to get the job done."

The Silver Crosses
14-03-2006, 20:04
"I would never doubt a brother of my own craftworld Ulrik. You are unique in personality but still have the heart of an eldar...and that is clear."

14-03-2006, 23:55
"You should be dead you know. still the look she gave you, who knows maybe she will miss her foe in battle sometime and accidently fell you." He laughed as he handed the flask to Ulrik

Thane McHammer
15-03-2006, 08:21
As those meeting argued, one final member walked slowly up. Clad in a simple white shift, black hair flowing down straight, it made for a serene figure.

As he crossed the threshhold, silence fell. The weight of ages was felt to all, and heads bowed deep in respect, some less than others. Holding up a hand in acknowledgment, Alextraz did not sit, nor move from the doorway. He had heard the arguments, the farseer's loudness.

Calm eyes washed over everyone, and he crossed his arms in a manner that is usually reserved for parents gently admonishing their children, giving them knowledge as well as a warning.

"The tree that is life sheds many leaves, different colours, different sizes, but they all originate from the same tree, and they go to the earth in the same manners as all the rest"

His voice was quiet, yet it resounded in the room. It echoed slightly, but with a nod, he turned and left the room, headed for the sparring arena.

(Anyway, I'm in China, so I'll post when I get the chance. Chow.)

15-03-2006, 17:23
OOC//Hey, I'm a rebel.:p And I've done the feild work to know what Cadian quality is.

OOC/ Dont use 40k stats as a representation of what the different races are. Go by Inquisitor if anything. The average eldar bs in inquisitor for a guardian is 80+ topping out at 140 for a pathfinder. An average guardman is between 50 and 70 at a push. Now all the cadians training which is only slightly higher than post other regiments will give them extra skills as represented by the sharpshooter skill in 40k.

Tanith Ghost
15-03-2006, 17:50
Ulrik was the first to get his wits back. "I've seen some commanding auras before, but that one takes the cake. That must be the scorpion."
He'd had words with the storm guardian and the pirate so far. The only other eldar near him was the banshee, and she wasn't talking. Ulrik resisted the urge to slouch. He hated arguing with craftworlders. Still, Cython was in charge. He might be jaded, but then he always saw a dozen futures, and was an old man to boot. "So what brings you out to this neck of the woods?"
He asked the exodite. "I thought you backwoods types hated craftworlds."

15-03-2006, 18:26
Half-heeding the Rangers' words, O'Naerrhyssis regarded the lithe figure, her head bowed respectfully. His tone, his manner, succinct, as she had previously observed in Warriors of a hallowed, insectoid Aspect.
His words, simple, sparse, and at the same time somewhat tragic in their Autumnal observation, they put her in mind of prose she had heard recited some years before; verse of a sincere, sanguine note, but slightly dispassionate in tone, as of humbled realisation, dawning gradually. Apathy, bound by chivalry.
Some of that prose, she recalled, had been composed in her honour.
Realising she was on the verge of reminiscing over her first betrothed, something she had sworn years previously to discontinue, she put the thought from her, and considered the Warrior.
Was he eulogising his life, in anticipation of death?
If so, was he in contemplation of battle?
Was he considering honourable suicide - perhaps, at alien hands?
Was he therefore to join this very righteous endeavour - as was not uncommon, particularly for sanctified Aspect Warriors - in pursuit of such a fate? Whatever, his visit to an occupied counsel-chamber would not be frivolous, nor go unforseen.
Or was he, rather, rhapsodizing in open invitation to duel, to the same ends?
Such was also a practice familiar to Warriors, of any Shrine.
The silence of inscrutable Lord Cyrath was a Farseer's most common sign of acquiesence - any other response would be anything but inscrutable.
H'yllwess elected to settle her last question in due course.
No doubt a duel would set her spirits in re-allignment, and release the stifled song in her heart.

The Silver Crosses
15-03-2006, 20:13
Anastari rose and his shadow grey sash uncrumpled from sitting. He looked to see which way the banshee was turning. A scorpion and a banshee fighting eachother in a sparring match would be a good fight. Madiblaster versus sound. Very interesting

Tanith Ghost
15-03-2006, 21:13
"And this is why I left the craftworld." Ulrik said. "The overbearing, arrogant , self rightious attitude. Case in point- the banshee. Aparently we rangers aren't good enough to talk to. As for the exodite, we'll soon find out."
He said to the pirate. "The storm guardian's the first civil craftworlder I've seen in a long time."

15-03-2006, 21:32
She smirked at the comment "I was with some of your kin a group of rangers I had befriended, but as soon as I stepped foot on this craftworld we were seperated. It just adds weight to what I already know, the craftworld eldar are decadent fools and your obvious fraternisation (is that a word..) with the monkeigh just shows that even the outcasts are still doomed to repeat the past mistakes of our race, I truely lement what your kind will bring upon us once more."

Catching what seemed to be the banshee bowing to her she nodded back as the banshee departed.

ooc/ my head hurts from reading your posts vforvenator

Tanith Ghost
15-03-2006, 21:49
"Craftworlders are decadent? You sure about that? Most of the folks on the craftworld look like it'd kill em to crack a smile, let alone anything decadent.
And while you're condeming me for not hating humans, you can add orks, tau, and demurig to the list. If their fight's with chaos, I'll help em. The enemy of my enemy, after all." Ulrik said amazed she even bother to answer.
"I have to admit though, you a lot less aloof than our fearless leader here or the banshee."

Edit:ooc//Paragraphs are your friend, vforvenator.;) :p :)

The Silver Crosses
15-03-2006, 23:49
Anastari looked back. "I am not sure if I completely agree with your statment Ulrik...but. The enemy of my enemy of my friend makes sense. So I supposed you are correct. Orks is crossing the line, but the tau are a fromidable race."

16-03-2006, 15:52
As she stood, poised in consideration, the Banshee's ornate mask observed the rest of the congregants, as if it were her faithful lars familiaris - set ceremoniously upon the oversized onyx hourglass, supported by it's fine comb of narrow prongs: curving as a scalp, to slide into a crimson mane.
It's black steepled tiara: an aquiline spearhead, reflective as a dark mirror, studded minimally with mother-of-pearl - in the fashion of a constellation, perhaps?
It's brow, below this steeple: of the same black colour, with minute rows of golden skulls, in twin arcs of diminishing size - marking out her fine eyebrows.
It's features: fashioned after it's wearers' own, but with a baroque harshness to the jagged ears, the deep eyes, the narrow nose, the cheekbones - an androgynous Eldar face, bereft of all fluidity of lines, of softness to the natural curves.
Fine twin teardrops of gold studded the right cheek, their paths trailed by the glitter of gilt tracery - while a glossy nacre tear winked on the left, tailed by silver.
And within the gaping, concave maw: a deep-set, silver grid of acoustic amplification, of mind-shattering, nerve-wrenching, soul-shredding, sonant-edged psykosonic assault.
Were a breeze from the echoing corridor beyond to whisper through that malign mouthpiece, would it sound a note - would it snap minds, and so signal the end for any listener, as effectively as from it's owner's tongue?
Tallow candle-flames fluttered in the chamber, so the mask seemed to blink, or to alter it's gleaming gaze.

Tanith Ghost
16-03-2006, 15:57
Ulrik was getting bored. He mentaly went through a disguise concept he was working on. The Ghillie suit. Total concealment in a hostile enviorn. Made of netting that broke the wearer's silouete and adorned with feild debris garnered from the operating area, it would provide a new level of sniper concealment. And with a barrel guise, such as a branch or loose pipe to complete the illusion, he's be able to get off as many as half a dozen shots before he'd have to move. Maybe not. Stick a muzzel supressor on top of this
kit and that would jump to ten. Enough headshots, and I could potentialy take down a whole squad before they figure out where I am.

Edit:Damn GW gestapo.:p Denial of the space dwarves will not make them go away! Squat power! *goes to edit post to say 'Demurig'*

Second Edit: Slaz, some IC stuff to you announcement would be nice.
Just a suggestion of course.

16-03-2006, 19:58

Imagine this to be an Inquisitorial meeting. You just don't get up and walk out now do you? By leaving all of you are showing a great insult to my Farseer. So I am giving everyone the chance to either edit posts (as for Thane I will PM him ok?) as I don't want anyone leaving this council.

Its a Council meeting, not a walk in, say yes I'm here and leave.....:mad:/OoC

The Silver Crosses
16-03-2006, 20:11
(Hooray I never left. I wasn't planning on leaving either.)

Anastari watched as everyone left. He sighed and sat back down and watched his farseer wanting a response so he could return to his veterans and practice in te arts of which best fit against there enemy.

16-03-2006, 20:16
OOC/ deleted.. Silver why on earth did you post that since we are all changing our posts anyway.

The Silver Crosses
16-03-2006, 20:22
(Oh...I thought they would all just come back in on the next post. Sorry.)

Tanith Ghost
18-03-2006, 22:23
OOC//So this doesn't die while Slaz takes his sweet time...

Ulrik looked over at the Exodite. The banshee seemed almost in awe of her.
He didn't see the big deal. A backwoods eldar version of a human caveman.
Mistrustful of everything and everyone beyond whatever jungle she came from. "So tell me- what makes you think we're doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past?" He started twirling his laspistol lazily again. "Outcast isn't really a
path per se.Guys like me, we're not really under craftworld command. We just kinda help out now and then." He shrugged. "Not much I can say to my lack of hate for the humans. They hate chaos, I hate chaos. That's common ground enough for me."

19-03-2006, 13:53

OoC/ So I am giving everyone the chance to either edit posts (as for Thane I will PM him ok?) as I don't want anyone leaving this council. OoC
Posts Edited.
Let's not leave this for dead, chaps, it seems to be going pretty well so far.

19-03-2006, 14:11
She rolled her eyes lazily as he asked about the mistakes of the past repeating themselves, "you society is exactly the same as it once was, everyone can do what they want when they like, they give into their desires that just fuels she who thirsts. If you cannot see this then you are more a fool that I thought."

She smirked, "you know nothing of your on society, you are indeed on a path, that of the outcast, you may have severed your bonds to your craftworld but you are still a part of them."

19-03-2006, 16:18
H'yllwess observed, her soul seething inwardly, silently, as the hotspurred exchange of words quickened and quelled: now between the strident, irreverent Ranger, still so disrespectfully brash and bold in his manner, in his words, of ancient providence, of sacred rite and responsiblity, now of base humans, of-... of Chaos... that unspeakable, unwritten word, of the black mirror of all that H'yllwess held dear, of the very universe inverted, the name and title that she daren't even whisper. Muscles knotted over H'yllwess's flat stomach.
Between the Ranger, and the figure who had earlier set the young Banshee's spirits on edge, who had stirred russet leaves in her chest, when that one had been shown deference so honourably by none other than a Farseer, by Lord Cyrath.
The Exoditrix's words flowered hotly in the chill air, and H'yllwess was enflamed with shame, deep within.
She Who Thirsts...
Enflamed with shame - for her life, for her birth, for her Craftworld, for her entire existence, so it seemed.
She Who Thirsts...
She felt the bloodlust rising, the inner mania of her Shrine gathering pace, and in that moment wished to kill the Ranger, the rip and wrench him, with bared teeth and hands, before the honourable assemblage.
She ached for battle, for the scent blood and pheromone, with the wan Exoditrix bearing witness to the slaughter - so that H'yllwess might win the Lady's acknowledgement, her honourable approval of her valour, in the most time-honoured, chivalric constraints.
In just such honoured fashion had this meeting been convened, presided over by a Farseer - and a Warlock.
A counsel o' war...
Soon - soon, she would get the release her soul craved.

Tanith Ghost
19-03-2006, 17:58
"I'm pretty sure you're mistaken about craftworlders doing what they want whenever they want. Why do you think I ditched this place?" He indicatd the Banshee. "These guys are even more uptight and restrained than you. She probably wants to kill me just for being here. Our fearless leader probably
ain't to happy with either for not being dead serious. Anastari here seems to be the exception to the rule, but end of the day, he's still as dutiful and unswervingly loyal to the eldar people as you." To the banshee, he just shrugged. "Sorry if that gets your temper up your highness. I dunno what you call honor, but with me honor is defined as keeping one's word, never betraying an ally, and settling one's diferences with words where possible."

19-03-2006, 18:21
"The fact you were able to 'ditch' this place just shows my argument to be true." she smiled at the ranger who clearly had no idea what decadence the craftworld eldar still shared with those who had caused the fall in the first place.

19-03-2006, 23:43
OoC/I have sent PMs to those that we are waiting on. They have till Tuesday before I post and continue this ok? I need to wait as a few of them are key characters :p/OoC

The Silver Crosses
20-03-2006, 20:04
Anastari sighed. so much fighting between craftworlds. So much hate. The objective could never be achieved if this craftworld didn't agree with eachother. This group needed to be united.

20-03-2006, 20:14
OoC/ im still here my character just has nothing to say/OoC

20-03-2006, 23:09
Cryton looked upon everyone as he rose, signaling the beginning of the meeting.

'My fellow kinsman,' Cryton said with a bow, 'as you know when I forsee something it is usually means great danger for our Craftworld and the Pirate fleet. Two nights ago, such a vision I had forsaw.'

Cryton convlused as his powers ebbed from him, surrounding all who were present in a thick black shadow as they all soon saw his vision.

A dark laughter echoed as planets screamed in death and blood as a dark pink cloud surrounded Exodite worlds, flowing towards the Pirate fleet, destroying it with one fatal blow, and then a final attack on the craftworld itself. The craftworld itself screamed a blood chilling scream of pain and agony as everyone could feel the Eldar within dying in horrific ways. Suddenly the vision became nothing and a laughing Eldar was before them. It was a twisted visage of its one graceful nature and was mutated in the way of chaos, sickening those that saw the imagine. The vision soon ended in a light of hope as everyone one of their faces blurred into one light that attacked the twisted Eldar, destorying it, ending the tide, but then it disappeared as if it never happened.

Cryton froze and fell to the ground, breathing heavy and looked at everyone else.

'The visison has been clarified for your minds, but it shows exactly what you believed it shows. We are a possiable thread, we as a unit can stop this Dark Eldar and prevent this from happening,' Cryton said with a dark sigh. 'You have been called to me to kill the Dark Eldar and his kinsmen, that is all I request of you. Vetern Sergeant, your unit will have a new leader, I need you by my side at all times. The rest of you are also apart of my retinue and hold no more ties to your previous units is this clear? I require full control of everyone to keep us alive.'

Cryton paused and looked at them all.

'Do not worry, we are taking a raiding army to the planet and commencing an extended attack to aide the foolish Imperials. I may not like it, but the humans will take the full blunt of the enemy assaults while we do what is needed,' Cryton said with a sigh.

'Any questions?' asked Cryton.

Tanith Ghost
20-03-2006, 23:23
"Just tell me if we work with the Imperials, we won't backstab em when it's all over. I know how most of you feel about humans. I know you hate them, boss. But if we agree to help them, then betray them when our ends are met, we're just as bad as this renegade we hunt." Ulrik looked Cython dead in the eye. "If we just manipulate them, can we really claim to be right here?"
He could tell Cython was annoyed at the very least. "Make no mistake, I won't let this renegade escape alive. But I also won't forget my standards of right and wrong."

The Silver Crosses
21-03-2006, 01:55
Anastari had not expected that. He was dedicated to his craftworld though. Nodding to his farseer with a bow, he asked a question with a smile that could known by his tone. "When do we leave to destroy this heresy?"

21-03-2006, 13:00
Cryton turned to the Ranger and returned his gaze.

'The Imperials are not aware of our prescence in this,' Cryton whispered. 'They shall be used and directed by our will, but never shall we ally ourselves with them. The Imperials are puppets, Ulrik.'

Looking at Anastari feeling the familarity in the Storm Guardian's body posture and looked at the Guardian.

'All in good time my warrior, all in good time,' Cryton said as he looked at the Eldar Banshee. Her warrior spirit was screaming for the death and derstruction and every emotion she felt coursed through Cryton.

'Soon H'yllwess,' whispered Cryton. 'You will dance your dance.'

21-03-2006, 13:47
Lileath finally rose and spoke.

"I shall not fail you farseer for if I fail you I fail the Craftworld and that is not a option"

she picked up her Spear and bowed infront of the farseer. she had heard of his many victories over the Great Enemy it was trurly a honor to serve under him.

"Listen to Cryton and heed his words this path we are takeing is not only risking our frail mortal frames but also our very souls do not take this task lightly for it will not be forgiveing"

Lileath felt her spear move in her hand it was anxoius just as she was but she needed to keep it contained until it could be used to serve Cyton and ultmatily the craftworld

21-03-2006, 15:03
Lord Cryton's stark words pealed vibrantly in the sparse chamber, as they were echoed by those of the Warlock, but they could not seem to fully drown the preternaturally lingering ring of the phantamogoric screaming from H'yllwess's ears, nor fully disperse the supernatural sense of gloom which seemed to pervade the chamber, clinging to shadows in the visions' wake.
Faced with not merely the eventual destruction, but the ultimate damnation of the Garden in it's entirety, the abhorrant, eternal enslavement of everything, of everyone she had ever known or loved, O'Naerrhyssis's flawless rounded chin crumpled as her teeth sought her pale lower lip - a habit long since abandoned, or so she had thought.
Thinking also of the glimpsed annhilation of the Exodite Worlds - of their soul-suffocation, with agonizing slowness, in the irresistable tide of cloying warp-effluent - grief seemed to strike H'yllwess more deeply still, a breathstealing blow that reached within her armoured chest itself.
Feeling tears of emotion budding deep within their ducts, she supressed them with a calm effort of will, such as she might supress a flow of lifeblood in combat.
Still, she retrieved her black Mask from the glassy table with the same calmness, putting it to her alabastine face, connecting tiny locks and catches to her collar, to her gorget, clicking the visage into place, as her crimson locks spilled down to spider over her shoulders, to frame her Masked face as a black heart outlined in blood.
As her twinned red braids hung to reach her curved, armoured breasts - the nipples black chitinous studs, each circled faintly by gold or silver tracery, threaded with a slim ring of gold or of pearl.
Those rings glinted as O'Naerrhyssis stood once more, and slung her quillioned powersword over her shoulder in it's scabbard of red shimmer-lizard hide.

Tanith Ghost
21-03-2006, 18:36
Ulrik had nothing else to say. Same old selfish deal. Maybe the exodite was correct. Maybe there were repeating the past, being so selfish. Calously manipulating others to save their own skins. In the eyes of the ranger, the unsuspectin stranger had better know the truth of wrong from right.
Ulrik went over the old saying, from a time back when humans were confined to earth and his people were empire. Mythical warrios called rangers enforced their laws, adhering to little regulation, save for truth and justice. That was what he valued the most. If you're gonna bring this dark renegade to justice, you need to have justice on your side.

The Silver Crosses
21-03-2006, 20:54
Anastari nodded. "My fighting spirit is a patient one farseer." he said sitting back down. " I will protect you at all costs."

Thane McHammer
22-03-2006, 17:52
I walked down the path from the meeting room, slowly, deliberatly.

It bothered me that there was nothing they could do but bicker and squabble, while the Farseer clung to his morbid dreams and ideals. Nothing changes, it seems...

As I moved though the crystal trees lining the path, I considered my options. I could go with them, help them on their path, or I could stay here, aiding the craftworld and those around me.

Choices, choices.

They were young, I must admit. Not even three centuries, a mear child. Or what would have once passed for a child. Now, everyone had to grow up fast, such were the problems that faced our race these days. I sighed and folded my hands behind me.

Choices, choices...that is what we all must make in the end...

Tanith Ghost
24-03-2006, 05:48
Ulrik got up. Granted there was an abundance of overly stiff necked uptights, but they could use all they help they could get. He walked after the eldar who walked in, then walked away. "Hey man." He said, trailing a few paces back and to the right. "I know we look like a bunch of imature children, but we could really use your help." Ulrik just hoped he wasn't too out of line speaking his mind. Even a born wiseacre like him could tell this warrior deserved respect.

24-03-2006, 10:57
'Do not worry Ulrik,' Cryton said with a sigh. 'The Striking Scorpion has no choice. He knows the tides of fate do not lie and he knows of my 'rare' talents.'

Cryton looked at Alextraz and could see the Scorpion's thoughts coming to the conclusion Cryton knew it would.

'Alextraz, you are respected amongst our Craftworld and the Pirate fleet,' Cryton said his voice calm and collective. 'I will need your fighting skills to defeat the Great Enemy. She Who Thirsts intends to destroy eveything we hold dear about Garden of Isha unless we attack the source that will cause this destruction. The Garden of Isha will fall and all of those that somehow live within the craftworld shall become Daemon playthings or worse fall from grace and become slaves of Chaos.'

Cryton could feel his visions surfacing showing him everything in detail, especially as he watched the Master Farseer be devoured by a Keeper of Secrets as the Avatar was destroyed by a Daemon Prince that was once Eldar.

OoC/Okay forwarding this soon, possiably tomorrow/OoC

Thane McHammer
24-03-2006, 11:54
My eyes glinted under the pale light, nodding first to Ulrik, and then to Cryton.

The Farseer's words were true, I had to admit, but his shows arrogance were stiffling. The Enemy would always hunger for our souls, and we would never stop fighting. But I did not need some child of a Farseer to tell me my duty.

For nearly 5 thousand years I had watched over this Craftworld, content in my position, humble before those who continually strove to rise higher in the ranks to power. Exarchs, Warlocks, Farseers...it seemed that the more duty they took on, the loftier they became. I need not remind myself of the tragedy of the Fall...pride and hubris were one of our greatest sins, and I fear that they still might be. Of course, we as a race injected pleanty of guilt and remorse into every thing we do, so it is more self-pity and emotional mutilation than anything...

Collective guilt aside, Cryton would be wise to not assume my motives any more than I assumed his. Every action has choice, and every choice leads to a seperate action. One just needs to choose which action best leads to the desired outcome.

I turned to face the Farseer, looking down at him slightly. I have always been one to carefully choose my words, as we are a complex and intricate race, but often they are misinterpreted...

"Farseer Cryton. My duty has always been as it was, and shall never change. The calf does not assume to userp the bull, and neither shall you. I shall aid your quest, but not because I have little choice in the matter. On contrary, I have full choice, and you are dependent on it. Do not take liberty of choice, young Farseer. Your powers of forsight are impressive, to be true, but do not make the mistake of looking so far ahead that you miss what is happening infront of you...."

The Farseer went quiet for a moment, and Ulrik looked thoughtful.

"And on that note, Cryton, you shall leave my mind as is. I do not wish to erect barriers...."

I left then then, heading towards the Temple. My mouth was dry from speaking...it was the most words I had spoke at once in over two centuries...such are the times...these ever changing times....

24-03-2006, 12:56
Cryton watched the Scorpion leave, taking in what the warrior had said.

Cryton was a leader and was not used to such words. He was used to respect and awe, not a general distaste.

'Alextraz, you make choices that exist. Remember that,' Cryton said as the Scorpion left.

OoC/Thane, remember you will be under my control, but once you are back in your home country send me a PM. I have an idea as to a role you can play./OoC

24-03-2006, 17:09
OOC/ he is back as far as im aware..

26-03-2006, 14:51
The late-coming Warriors' words echoed keenly in H'yllwess's pearl-ringed, armoured ears.
This Aspect Warrior... for none else could be summoned here unarmoured, as a Guardian of noble citizenry, unrobed or swathed, as a mystifying Seer.
This Scorpion... or so she surmised, for of the few staunchly surviving Shrines, such were distinguishable in their poise, their spry stance - jaded dancers of death.
This... Champion? Esteemed veteran, among such dancers? Undoubtedly.
Conceivably, against the inconceivable.
For whom else could so address a Farseer? In the presence of so many as this priviledged handful?
In the company of an august Warlock, of- she swallowed dryly - an Exoditress?
In the company of the Enshrined, such as the impertinent Ranger, such as herself?
Before - at the end of this spectrum - a Guardian? A carrion Corsair?
The muted words of Lord Cryton conveyed a certain deferrence, such as he had shown to the Exoditrix.
Or was he rather displaying faith? Patience? Altruistic resolve? So as to lead by example?
H'yllwess would strive to follow suit.
Her intense eyes glinted - chips of ruby in the orbits of her warMask, those orbits glinting more brightly as blackly mirrored lids of chitin blinked within them, in time with their owners - as they raked the eclectic assemblage.
Her masked face, with it's foreboding, Tragic mouth, conveyed, amplified, the anguished rage which had passed through her moments earlier - in marbled silence.

Tanith Ghost
26-03-2006, 21:17
"Wow. I think he's gonna help us out after all." Ulrik said. "He just told off a farseer, sure as shooting. I like this guy already." He supressed a smirk, watching out of the corner of his eye as the banshee surveyed the room. "So why don't you say something to the exodite if you admire her so much?" he asked casualy. "I'm sure she doesn't bite." He added allowing a slight smirk to show.

27-03-2006, 00:08
Cryton stood up and looked at the rest of those present.

'Come in Pirate Prince Kam'ra'o'shala,' Cryton said as a spectatulary dressed Eldar entered the room. The Eldar was tall with deep green eyes and a sing long braided knot of hair that was a mix of blonde and brown, his blue clothing loosely covering him that flowed as he moved. He moved with a feline grace as the Pirate Prince came to the front.

'I am Pirate Prince Kam'ra'o'shala,' he said with a bow. 'However, you may call me Kam'ra.' The Prince laughed and caught eyes with the Pirate and the Ranger.

'I have been summoned here to escort you to the Imperial planet, Havin IV, where a battle between the Imperials and the Fallen Ones is being currently waged. Its going to be tough running, but nothing my fleet could not handle,' Kam'ra said with the smugness expected of a Pirate Prince.

Cryton looked at everyone and drew attention to himself with a gesture.

'The planet contains the bones of an ancient daemon prince our ancestors died killing and burying within the core of the planet,' Cryton explained with a deep sigh. 'Our dark brethren want to excavate them from this point.'

Suddenly a map of the planet appeared as Cryton touched the screen showing a small area within a mountain range. The rest of the planet was covered in shades of either red or blue showing populated areas and areas of combat.

'The war on the planet is in early stages, mainly cults of the Accursed fighting against the Imperial forces on the planet. Most of the fighting is on the main continent of the planet and in the lower warmer areas where the Imperial settlements are located. The mountain range is our area of interest,' Cryton said as the map zoomed in on the mountain range. 'This is where we will find our enemy.'

Cryton then sat down and closed his eyes taking in the rest of the world as he saw images of people dying, daemons flaying men alive, the fallen angels of the emperor culled the population as the dark kin stood above them all, laughing. Cryton shuddered and turned to everyone.

'We leave in two hours,' Cryton said looking at everyone to make sure it was clear. 'Meet in the hangar.'

Cryton stood up and left the council room, heading towards his own chambers to mediate and clear his mind of everything.


Prince Kam'ra looked at the others and grinned.

'My shuttle has a small collection of particular spirits and wines that only Eldar could appreciate, if anyone would like to join me,' Kam'ra said with a smile. 'Any takers?'

OoC/Right thats the mission briefing for now. The Prince is one of my characters as well, so feel free to interact as well. So heres what you can do:

Either go with the Prince or collect your things from your room and get ready for action./OoC

27-03-2006, 01:01
OOC/Slaz you spelled Sephiroth wrong, "sephirtoh" :p

Tanith Ghost
27-03-2006, 01:07
"Now we're talkin. Kam'ra, you seem to me thy type who, despite being a pirate knows the difference between right and wrong. I'll take you up on that offer for drink." He said. "Name's Ulrik deadeye. Sharpshooter, scoudrel, and professional wiseacre. I'm the sworn enemy of chaos, and friend to all who fight the great enemy."

The Silver Crosses
27-03-2006, 13:34
Anastari walked out of the room and into his chambers for one last training session. He closed the door behind him and initiated the battle holograms. Drawing his swords he began.

29-03-2006, 13:13
H'yllwess blinked her black mirrorMasked lids slowly, heart beating mutedly, breathing gradually, still at spiritual battle-ease after the fashion of Lord Cryton. So the words of the Corsair did not quite resound with a death-knell, but rather resonated, with a slow-burning intensity.
Fallen Ones...
Daemon Prince...
Witching words... and bewitching: letters and syllables strung together like runes, like hexen ikons.
In her current state, she was perhaps better able to appreciate that which she was hearing; ingesting and digesting the full horror of that which was now unfolding.
In so doing, she now truly hearkened to Lord Cryton's words of moments earlier:
The rest of you are also a part of my retinue...
Those words resounded...
...and hold no more ties to your previous units - is this clear?
Now: clear - stark as a crystal forest.
Her Shrine was hers no longer.
Her Temple was lost to her, forever hereafter.
All she had left was the temple of her body; that, and her sacred arms and armour, hers alone - her Mask, never to be passed on to future Sisters.
As a Howling Banshee - a Sister of the Shrine, a hand-maiden of Lady Jain and, indeed, a Bride of that Phoenix, as truly was she married to the Temple - she was now widowed.
She acknowledged, and accepted.

And now: she saw - and heard in her mind - quite clearly.
Her regard for the Exoditress, which she had thought went unheeded, had been denoted frivolously: mocked. As if the Lady were no more than a passing noble of the Garden.
She addressed the observant Ranger, her voice not high, but an ethereally vibrant contralto through the silver grille of her Mask:
"In the event of your survival, I demand satisfaction...", as she moved her hand to her red-lizard hide holstered laspistol.
".. In the Green Chamber of Knives."

Tanith Ghost
29-03-2006, 19:00
OOC//*insert surprised 'who, me?' look here*:p


"You sure you want that? Not that I wouldn't but I don't think I'm you're type.
Unless you mean you want a duel." Ulrik said with a smirk. "If you really want to, I'll fight you, but I doubt it'll impress your exodite friend. Duels, fancying her, getting jelous...all that stuff feeds the bad guys according to her."
Ulrik took a swig from his flask, making a mental note to ask the pirate prince for a bottle of rum. "You want saisfaction? Anytime, doll." He smirked.

30-03-2006, 11:19
Either side of O'Naerrhyssis's helmed-tiara, tiny red pin-points of light winked active within glossy black shells, as mirrored lids irised open in the pearl-studded openings of those shells.
Those twinned decorative targeters raked Ulrik with their dancing, needling beams of light, tracing paths from his groin, over his belt and armoured chest, spidering over his disconcerted face, to unite upon his forehead.
There they vanished, as H'yllwess turned away silently.

Tanith Ghost
30-03-2006, 18:25
ooc//You do know you're a banshe, not a scorpion, right?;)
Still, it's an improvement from the over-angsty trains of though you were putting up before.;)


Ulrick shrugged. Lasers. If only the old man had left me a carapace vest... Oh well. Just one more thing out to make him dead.
He'd dealt with that before. "Well, Cryton, it's been fun. Remind me to show up for council like this again soon. How does never sound?" He gave the banshee an exagerated bow behind her back. "Until next time, oh high and mighty mistress of the blade who's aparently too good to talk to rif-raf like me." He gave the exodite a mock salute as he left. "Just in case you're a commisar in disguise." He laughed. "No-one else is that obsesed with disipline. Just don't shoot me for cowardice if we're forced to retreat."

11-04-2006, 17:47
With a certain calmness H'yllwess stalked on her black, stabbing heels, after the departing Aspect Warrior who had outspoken moments earlier.
Now was a moment of calmness, of reverent composure prior to battle, prior to - as was her case, especially - the keening, discordant abandonment of order into personal Chaos.
The release of personal furies...
She bore this in mind, firmly.
The Warrior... the Striking Scorpion, or so she surmised - that Temple styled and so-called after the fashion of certain Maidenworldly arachnids: scuttling mites encased in sleek chitin, duelling males of which were observed to perform a rite, a snapping, scuttling dance of darts and stings. A dance of death.
H'yllwess intended merely to talk. To question, on his earlier words, of trees and falling leaves.

Tanith Ghost
15-04-2006, 08:43
"Oh yeah, one more thing." Ulrik added as he strode down the hall. he looked the exodite right in the eye, and gave her a loud rasberry. He laughed alll the way to the hangar where the pirate prince was docked. "Sombody said something about good spirits to be had." He said. "All I need now is some pipeweed and a broad or two. If there's a luxury you pirates don't have, I'd be surprised. That said, let's get this show on the road, Kam' ra ol buddy ol pal. The sooner I slot this dark eldar, the sooner I can go back to drifting aimlessly, drinking my liver to death, and getting told off by the human arbites
for grox hunting."

18-04-2006, 14:12
OoC/Time to shot this crippled beast. This RPG is dead as my doorknob and will now be closed.

Goodbye everyone and thank you./OoC