You cannot win. The Bloody Handed God may not be as strong as he once was, and Isha may be a prisoner for now. But in the end, what can you do to stop us? You cannot kill us, that much has is certain. We could survive to the death-heat of this misbegotten realm of existence if we so desired. Our survival - and thus, victory - is assured, brute. But assume for a moment that it is not. Imagine that Rhana Dandra comes, and the last Child of Isha dies. The last Eldar soul takes it's place in the Infinity Circuit. Just as your twisted gods howl their triumph, Ynnead awakens. Their howls are soon cut out by the horrible realisation that Reckoning has come. In it's fury, Ynnead tears apart your Gods - enjoying the shrieks of fear and agony from She Who Thirsts. Screaming and howling in hollow triumph She was born, and screaming and howling it shall depart this realm, and into the endless Void She shall be cast. And so will our race be born anew. I have seen this in my runes, in the very fabric of the stars themselves. Kill us, hide from us - it matters not. We have already won. You cannot win.
*Bursts into laughter* You know, for a race who has constantly been deceived and nearly been destroyed despite their apparent foresight, you place alot of faith on your visions. Come now, you cannot honestly believe that your sorcery can be trusted? The warp grants you these visions, the very fabric of the Gods giving you this so called prophecy of ascension, and you believe you can trust the whispering of the very forces that have lain your kind so low? So arrogent, so assured of themselves, so blinded to the reality. You face your twilight years Eldar, try as you might to struggle against fate, your time is over. Your species had it's turn in the sun, but now, man comes forth to claim the mantle of this galaxy's master. Your pathetic gods were barely able to fend off one of mine, what hope does this Ynnead, if he does exist, have against the combined power of the Ruinous Powers? As for killing you, believe me, I can, and I have. The only thing that keeps your race afloat is it's ability to flee into the shadows, running eternally from it's death sentence. But listen and listen well Farseer, Chaos is eternal, it is patient, and it will wait for as long as it takes. So go and hide, believe you are safe within your Webway, but eventually, we will find you, and we will send your souls to their rightful owner, this I promise you.
By the stars my kin speaks the truth! I only wish to add a quote from a fellow warlock: "Eradicate them all, we can no longer tolerate their filthy presence here" [OMG I need to go back to study more english if I want to take part here ]
(Your english is flawless - this coming from someone who lives in Finland!) Tell me, servant of Khorne, why do you think your gods thirst for our souls so - especially Her? They have ample amounts of other, more willing souls that are sacrificed to them by fools on a daily basis. It is because they fear what they can do. It is because, in their malignant sentience, they can sense their end approaching, and it is their hope that by taking from us our way of excacting vengeance, that they may be spared. They hope in vain.
Your words are so pathetic I wouldn't even call them struggling, your simple yet ignorant mind cannot stand the truth! You speak about our death about thousands of years, yet we are still here watching your kind dying like maggots in a bucket! *while listening to Farseer Urist she feels that the Stars themselves provide power and wisdom to him* See? You are already lost, so before the warlock set his lightings away you should leave this place! [[Don't tell me I struggle with every sentence ]]
The debate of the false gods continues. I shall wait for my opening, the ever patient hunter. (You both have great English in my opinion)
(Canada, and trust me, I'm barely getting by. So nice to have a nice verbal debate rather than just yelling insults back and forth.) I would assume She Who Thirsts... *Clear disgust can be heard as he speaks of Slaanesh* hungers for your souls merely because obsession and lust are simply part of her nature. The threat your gods pose to mine is little more than an idle threat, for if you would only see reason you might understand, the greatest of the Eldar gods, pose no more threat to the Ruinous Powers, than the greatest of the gods of old. They exist merely as a memory, cherished perhaps, but ultimately irrelevant in the cosmic game the Chaos Gods play on a daily basis.
*Turns to glare at this interloper, snarling in annoyance.* Tread carefully worm, you betters are speaking, and I would rather not be interrupted again.
