Discussion in 'Eldar' started by Bloodbourne, Aug 25, 2015.
Good idea. Are all Eldar cable of this feat or only Seers?
I'd say it would take a Seer to do it safely.
Oh.. What would happen if say a novice tried? How dangerous would it be and what would happen?
Well, whereas all Eldar are psychic, if one tried something like that untrained it would range from failing to do it to worst case scenario, attracting daemons from the warp who swarm the unlucky psyker and devour their soul, so ... it could go badly.
I would only have a proper Seer do this.
I feel like the PSA of Craftworld Eldar But it's true. Also don't drink and mind.
Hello everyone, here's something I wrote. Hopefully there's enough Craftworldiness in there and little boredom!
Clad in red runic armor and dark robes Seramille strides the battlefields purging chaos and enemies of the Eldar race under the banner of Craftworld Saim-Hann. She wields a powerful weapon, a singing spear, to annihilate any foe, be it a machine or a living organism. These armaments, supplemented by a shuriken pistol and an ornate helm, constitute to her battle Warlock outfit, for she threads the Path of the Warlock. But such honorable present is not without a dark past: among the Eldar, Seramille's skin tone immediately betrays her as one of the Dark Kin.
Seramille's existence began in the unforgiving twilight of Commoragh, but she had been considered lucky amongst the Dark Eldar. She was born a Trueborn in the Kabal of the Crimson Blossom, priviledged to had been given life by another Eldar being, not a soulless machinery. However, in a city governed by the survival of the fittest rule, being born to one of the noble families was no guarantee of safety, and indeed such ancestry sported various kinds of danger. As each and every Dark Eldar sustains him- or herself with pain of others there is little room for emotions other than hatred, malice and pride. The Trueborn differ from other denizens of Commoragh mostly by their immeasurable conceit surpassed only by the Archon's, who is the leader of a Kabal. Mischievous plots, assassinations, treacheries are daily routine amongst them, so everyone must stay alert at all times and be prepared for almost anything, lest he or she falls prey to the machinations of others.
There had come a day, however, when everything changed. Seramille had a terrible dream. In it she had a vision of a planet surrounded by three lights. Unspeakable danger lurked there which, if not stopped, would spread and consume untold numbers of Eldar. Seramille had been used to dread, for she had been fear itself for countless Mon-Keigh in the realspace. But this vision brought the terror on herself, true and unmistakable. And as the realisation of what happened came to her, the fright deepened. Even though all Eldar are inherently psychic, the Dark Kin are very rarely able to manifest any power. Any one who would try that in Commoragh does so at an enormous peril, and nobody speaks of the gruesome fate which awaits anybody caught. And it was what she had done.
From that day onward a sense of doom overcame Seramille. She had a hard time cherishing agony of others, as her own inevitably approached. Realspace raids became the only solace, as the focus needed in the battle required everyone to lay all other thoughts to rest. There came one particular raid, when the Dracon, leader of the Trueborn, announced to his retinue that they were going to help the Craftworld Saim-Hann in fight against the forces of chaos on a defiled Maiden World. The corrupted Mon-Keigh made there their refuge and the Craftworlders offered the Archon of the Kabal to take as many slaves and souls as he would want. In return they would coordinate a combined strike against the chaos worshippers, and purge the precious planet. As such deals weren't a rarity, and any Kabal needs a constant supply of slaves to exist, the Archon ordered preparations and all animosities to be put away until after the raid.
On the eve of the battle, an allied Haemonculus approached the Dracon and told him there was an outlaw, a psyker, amongst his warriors, and all effort would be put into finding one after the raid. There is no greater dread for the Eldar than She Who Thirsts and any psyker can draw her attention to Commoragh, even possibly open the portal to the immaterium. The Dracon ordered the rogue to be found, but luckily for Seramille, the raid was to be started soon, and she had already boarded a Venom craft in which she rode to battle with the other Trueborn. Forces ready, the Kabal departed into the webway.
The combined army assembled in front of the webway gate leading to the Maiden World, Ethayran. Although Eldar can use those gates, they are not able to reproduce them, and such ancient device is of great importance to the whole race. The task of opening the gate to the realspace was handed to the Seers of the Saim-Hann, but whole army was to first gather and prepare because the strike must have been fast and sudden in order to surprise the enemy, as is both the Saim-Hann and the Dark Eldar way. Like many times before, Seramille felt the thrill of the hunt, her senses on highest alert, her muscles readying to hold and aim the heavy splinter cannon with bullets so toxic even a tiny drop of one could kill several eldar-sized beings. She readied herself to face the horror of the enemy, and to indulge in the feeling. The air was filled with tension, as everyone waited for signal to ride forward.
Finally, it began. The gate was opened and the armies hurried in their sleek crafts to meet the unknowing enemy and destroy him utterly for their blasphemy against the sanctity of the Maiden World. The gate exit happened to be in a forest, but the device was so big and emitted such energy that it couldn't go unnoticed for long. The Eldar forces poured out of the gate and immediately rushed to attack their targets. Seramille's Venom was ordered, along with other skimmers, to clear a nearby encampent, capture as many living beings as possible and kill the rest. Flying just above the treetops the Venom's crew spotted several buildings and unleashed fire from all available weapons, the hail of splinter shards piercing vegetation to strike any foe, still not aware of what was really happening. As expected, the initial resistance was nonexistent and the raid could continue further without hinderance.
After a brief flight larger groups of enemies could be spotted hurrying in one direction. In the distance, Sermille could spot a hint of an unholy aura, emanating from unknown source. The Eldar forces gathered and headed towards the probable danger lurking ahead. At breakneck speeds they rushed toward the area, where they expected the harshest fights. But they seemed to be too late, for in the horizon there was an enormous rip in reality from which countless creatures spawned. Keen eyes of Sermille spotted Mon-Keigh clad in heavy armor and hideous beasts of strange kinds descending upon the surface of the planet. The Dark Eldar's resolve flinched. They liked to live, and chances were the enemy could be noone other than followers of She Who Thirsts, their only fear.
Suddenly, the air around Sermille's Venom exploded in a cacophony so loud and insane she couldn't hear her own thoughts. What was after could hardly be explained, as the pilot disintegrated along with a part of the vehicle into tiny bits and the rest was rapidly falling to the ground, sending Kabalites to the ground with enormous force. The blast stunned Sermille and she had only been dimly aware of what was happening. Putting all her trust in her instincts, she somehow managed to lessen the force of the impact, which took all her breath but didn't kill her outright as it seemed. Life seeping out of her and without the psychic protection of the webway, Sermille slowly began to conciously perceive the draining of her own soul by the Great Enemy. Her existence began to end, much quicker than she had ever anticipated, and she felt helpless and defeated for the first time in her history. Her fate seemed sealed, with her essence being devoured, there was no escape. In that dire situation Sermille, not knowing what to do, focused on the world around her. Suddenly, the beauty of the Maiden World filled her with awe and she forgot that mere moments before she was hell bent on bringing death and destruction. Lush vegetation of various kinds made her stare in wonder at what she had been missing living in the dark alleys and shadows of the hideous city of Commoragh. Now, for the first time, she wished to live and study the loveliness of the world around her, to bring and contemplate life instead of death. Sermille's mind was filled with numerous regrets when she finally faded out of conciousness.
The Eldar won that day, for the chaos-worshipping, armor-clad, barbaric Mon-Keigh valued their lives more than they valued Ethayran and retreated into their realm in the warp. But the Eldar losses were immense, many tears were to be shed and much grief experienced. The Dark Eldar gathered the remains of more valued members and took off while the Craftworlders of Saim-Hann searched for the spirit stones containing the souls of their dead. Through some strange luck they stumbled upon a body of a female Dark Eldar warrior with only the slightest vital signs. To the craftworld dwellers all Eldar life is sacred, so they took her with hope she could be swayed from her dark path.
When Sermille woke up, she was astonished to still be alive and to lie in such a strange place. The Craftworld's healers tended her body, but her soul needed more than medical attention. Although the people of Saim-Hann are much less strict about the Paths than their other cousins, they all follow them similarly. This was something Sermille had to get accustomed to. Fortunately, upon learning about the Path of Awakening Sermille eagerly stepped onto it to learn the world around her. During long years she studied the Craftworld and planets, stars and all life, marvelling at the wonders of the Galaxy. But her dark past always haunted her, at hand and ready to be summoned.
After some time she was trusted enough as to be drafted into Guardian squads when the times were dire. Over several years she participated in a few battles, and her growing hatred began to manifest. She could no longer focus on her Path. Sermille's heart remembered how it is to take pleasure from the suffering of others. Driven by dark thoughts and not discouraged by harsh requirements, she joined the Path of the Warrior, particularly a shrine of the Shadowy Claw, one which trained the Striking Scorpions Aspect Warriors. Their tactics of stealth and bloody close combat suited well an Eldar of a Dark ancestry. While on the outside brutal and predatory, the Striking Scorpion Shrine was a big surprise for Sermille. She expected to see bloodlust in the eyes of her fellow warriors, but there was nothing like that. Instead there was patience and skill of highly efficient hunters.
During her years in the Shrine she befriended the Shrine's Exarch, Dishan. He told her about the Fallen Phoenix Arhra, the founder of the Striking Scorpion shrine and their original Phoenix Lord, how his heart became dark and corrupt and he became one of the Dark Kin betraying all the other Eldar. Ashamed of once being one of the sadistic creatures of Commoragh, Sermille exorcised the remains of her malice and took another chance to become free of the stigma of her origin. Thus she had found friendship and a little solace.
But it didn't last long, as a dire need in the shape of a tendril of a Hive Fleet forced the Saim-Hann to call it's most powerful warrior – the Avatar of Kaela Mensha Khaine, the god of war, destruction, violence and murder. For this purpose one of the Exarchs has to sacrifice him- or herself to awaken the Avatar. To Sermille's grief, Dishan had been chosen as the one to have the priviledge of serving the Craftworld with all he had. The Saim-Hann benefited enormously from the Avatar's guidance and the conflict ended with the utter annihilation of the Tyranid tendril. When the war ended, the memory of Dishan and his sacrifice made Sermille forsake the Path of the Warrior. Seeking her place in the Craftworld anew, she briefly walked the Path of Grief and contemplated on the suffering of all the Eldar race. But it was not her destiny, because instead of grief there came the long suppressed hatred. As she remembered her strange dream back in her dark days she asked Seers for advice. Their counsel was plain: to join the Path of the Seer.
Since then, Sermille has learnt how to use her hate against the Eldar's enemies, and just how powerful a weapon it can be. Ordinarily, her ornate helmet resides within the Shadowy Claw Shrine, and when the time of war comes, she connects with the Shrine's warriors and dons the helmet to serve the Craftworld with her talents. Four hundred years of experience, most of them spent on martial training or battling various foes make Sermille a veteran combining the knowledge and skill of both the Eldar and their Dark kin. Recognizing Arkhona as the subject of her vision, she now supplements the Craftworld Saim-Hann's forces on the planet.
Fiction: Vrea Mordyll's Warp Spiders
Scribed by: JerkFaceHead
KiAshra stood before the doors to the War Temple and sweated in
apprehension. Tomorrow would be her first day as a Warp Spider and
what lay beyond those doors more than unnerved her on so many
levels. It was always her family's tradition to eventually train in
the Spider aspect at some point when on the Path of the
Warrior...and that was part of the problem.
KiAshra jumped as the gentle touch of her mother startled her out of
her mental maze of anxiousness! "Come with me my daughter;" her
mother whispered as she put her arms around her oldest child. "
Tomorrow will come and go and you will do well. Have you not proved
yourself? You were my best warrior in the Guardian Squad that I
trained this cycle."
"The Path of the Warrior calls to you; and The Spider Aspect runs
hot in our family's blood. My time at this temple, when I was your
age KiAshra, was some of strongest character and courage building
training in my life."
KiAshra continued to walk with her mother.
"Chylessa,...mom..." KiAshra chose her words slowly...
"It is not the Spider Temple which sends black thoughts to me....I
wish to Embrace this Path with words more than I can say. It is my
uncle, Vrea-Mordyll. He is the Exarch I am assigned to be trained
under, He will be my master in that place. He is a legend and the
most fearful of any Exarch I ever met...so dour and empty....and Mom
he is our Blood!!"
"KiAshra you will have to champion your terror and I will help you.
What can I tell you that will make your mind clearer?"
KiAshra thought and spoke with a hurried voice. "I know that Vrea-
Mordyll was like any other of our elder kin, much like me or you
when he was young. I know the stories of how he came to be an
excellent Warp Spider as so many of our line have done before. Yet
he was strong enough to resist the Path of the Warrior that wished
to consume him. I remember how you told me he was almost consumed
and became an Exarch of the Spider Temple, but was able to leave the
Path of the Warrior to embrace the love for your sister."
KiAshra took a breath and spoke on softly now...
"That story gives me hope and courage....but the next part scares
me. I was too young to walk when Vrea-Mordyll saw his own father die
that battle. I mean his whole guardian unit was annihilated by the
Orks! His own men and his dad was one of them. Swooping Hawks saved
Vrea-Mordyll from that morbid hill. Maybe that is why he joined the
Shrine of the Hawk when he took up the path of the Warrior that
fateful day. And he eventually became an Exarch, but you never told
me any more details." Her mother looked to the star-dome above them
and then sighed. She looked into KiAshra' eyes and there was a tear
on her mothers' face.
"When the failure of that battle, the anger in his blood consumed
Vrea-Mordyll; he was doomed to the Path of the Warrior. Faster than
any other he mastered the Aspect of the Hawk. My family tried to
persuade my sister to let Vrea-Mordyll go. To leave him in is war-
lust and make peace with it. No, she would not leave him; and
herself walked the path of the warrior as a Warp Spider to relate to
him. But it was not enough, his will for war-lust, revenge, loathing
and hate pushed him to be doomed as an Exarch faster than any ever
before. He was gone to her, bless her spirit, she suffered so
watching him transform."
KiAshra listened with her mouth held open...."and then..." Her
mother continued, with more wetness on her cheeks now. They sat upon
a resting rock. "You were old enough to remember the Cursed Cycle.
The Chaos Marines chose to fight us on that ghost planet. The
Farseers could not divine anything that cycle and the promised world
was an ambush for our people." "As you helped tend to the young and
wounded that returned, I remember how sweet your young face looked
up to me. I was so glad you were just young enough not to go to
war." KiAshra interrupted..."You were so proud in your uniform when
you left. I could never imagine how devastated you were when you
came back. I still remember your sister's blood on your hands and
that terrible time..." KiAshra shuddered involuntarily. "Yes, that
was a sad time. A piece of me died that battle...but all of Vrea-
Mordyll died that day....or what was left of his proud spirit."
You see we did not have time to prepare the Titan Clans. The dark
marines and their forces shattered our line. Our titan clans could
have brushed them aside easily if they had been there. They had us
routed. They had only one Warlord Titan, but it was horrific. Thank
Isha that it was not yet possessed."
"As we regrouped the Aspect warriors sold their lives to protect our
flank. So many died. Vrea-Mordyll was the only survivor of his unit.
His Hawk's wings were melted from the Plasma Blast that melted his
unit like butter."
KiAshra's mother stared glassy-eyed straight ahead as she went on...
"As he stumbled in the craters tripping over the fallen and dodging
bolter fire; that is when Vrea-Mordyll found the destroyed unit of my
sister...They had died in bitter hand to hand combat with the foul
marines. Oh how that sight destroyed Vrea-Mordyll down to his core.
No one knows how long he wept holding her body. It is only known
that the Warlord titan almost crushed him as it strode past. Jolted
from his sorrow, Vrea-Mordyll, sought refuge in revenge, death
through rage, murder for his Bloody Handed Avatar. It is said that
since we never had time to awaken Khaine...that his bloody rage
filled Vrea-Mordyll and guided him that day."
"We know that he took my sister's Warp Generator from her bloody
body and wore it to gain access to the inside of the Chaos Warlord
Titan and murdered every member of its crew before causing it to
melt in a giant plasma explosion that doomed the marines that day.
Vrea-Mordyll has since been the only Exarch to Switch form one
Temple to another. This love and tragedy he shared with my sister
was stronger than even the Path of the Warrior!"
"You see KiAshra, you should not fear your Great Uncle so much as
pity him. For his spirit is as damned as if Slaanesh had captured
him for herself. You will find strength in him, use his sacrifice to
enhance our people....Let him be your master on this path." KiAshra
had more to dwell upon, but as she strolled down to the pond with
her mother, she felt, more than ever, a part of a greater legacy.
A tale of redemption and one of sacrifice, both excellently crafted!
I'z investid in loadz of purpil paint!
You should not be so cruel. Eldar in their arrogance is almost as blind as humans. Plus, despite the low probability, sympathy between human and the Eldar is possible, it can not be denied.
P.S. You can't ignore LCB xD
Thanks for the appreciation! It was fun to write. Hopefully more people will present their stories.