<Architect> "Lenora!" Yelled the female Guardian at the bay, letting go of her weapon to retrieve the red-haired maiden that had surfaced from the damaged healing pod. "What have you do-" she snapped at the Magos, but her voice was cut by her partner - the male Watcher of the Anam. "Humans... We cannot move the gravely injured. You two go, take our brothers and sisters capable of walking." A grim determination showed through this man's voice as did fear and anger. "We'll stay here and meet our Fate, whatever it comes to be." Lenora's last breath faded away and the female guardian took the Spirit Stone that was attacked to her breast. Evelyn rallied the walking able, around seven Eldar whose wounds seemed grave. "We're ready to move, Lord Zeth."
(OOC: That was the most beautiful psychic power post I've ever read.) <Architect> The Scourge flock began losing coherency under the volume of power Desek's Guardians laid on it and it finally panicked after one of their number fell dead - then there was that Warp-spawned nightmare approaching... The Haemonculi saw it coming, a pitch-black creature unlike anything they had seen. The male stepped on its path, liquefier firing his own acidic blood at the effigy and venom blade at the ready. "We are what your children fear when you've turned off the nightstand! We are the ever-present dread at the back of your mind! You do not scare me!"
OOC: And THAT makes it all worth it and I sincerely appreciate the compliment! A voice touched every single soul in the room, Exodite, Craftworlder and Fallen alike. "You need not fear. " Was all Desek's loyal kin heard, the rest whom stood alongside the coven of Haemoculi received the rest. "Only Die. " The spray of blood sizzled against the avatar's armor, dissolving into a single rune that now dominated it's chest and overshadowed the others: Suffering. With that first blow the clock started as once the rune faded out so would the creature. Stepping forward a void opened within it's face, a toothless maw that screamed with a maddening variety of voices. Terror, agony and fury were all reflected in the mixture that rose from it's lungs, the keening wail of a Banshee mixed in with the echoing war cry of an Ork transitioned into a howling of gibbering daemons that was in turn swallowed up by an echoing bark from some form of beast or another. Scything talon coiled back like a predator prepared to strike the Executioner propelled itself into the air, feet drawing up into the endless depths of the robe so that it could glide over to the female holding their Exodite prisoner. A hand extended mid-glide toward that single Flesh Crafter, an entirely impossible chill overtaking her as it tried to overtake her in a grip of frost and paralyze her for the coming talon stroke meant to tear apart her very life essence rather than bother with such mundane obstructions as flesh.
<Architect> The male haemonculus cowered before the piercing cacophony of war cries, leaving nothing but air between the effigy and the female flesh crafter. "What-" she muttered, unable to move her hand. Astora capitalized on this and spun to release herself just in time to step out of the way of Desek's shadow. The female haemonculus, wearer of the gauntlet, readied herself as much as she could - but death had for her other plans.
<Desek> For a moment he considered expending his energy to fully freeze the woman in place but it was a waste and only a contemptuous strike from the talon was gifted upon her as the limb flashed out to pierce down through her neck, stomach and out just above her waist. Astora heard the same whisper that had touched every mind earlier. "Seek cover...." Next the Guardians whom had formed up with Desek received further orders. "Disperse, bolster the lines and do your kin proud, it won't be safe here once they figure out I'm still here..." Casting the body of the Haemoculi up into the air and leaving gravity to do it's thing with what was left he turned back to he who had defied him first and put on such an convincing mask of arrogance in the face of such a foe. Wracks were of course an issue, the disgusting underlings of the Flesh Crafter's were loyal as ever, yet loyalty made a poor shield for those who had it and the Executioner was spurred onward with yet another roar and a vision to accompany it. Enforcing his own memories upon their minds each Wrack and their Master saw the same scene of a ruined Craftworld, streets caving and cratering beneath the foot falls of a massive black Carnifex wreathed in shadowed flame bearing down on them. The Haemoculi saw more than the rest as his guard were scythed down in a moments pass and the figure was still bearing down upon him....
His vision was blurred, shadows dancing across his vision. A groan emitted from metal jaws as the Hellion forced clear sight back to the fore, "Tyrant skin the Covens and.. Khaine and the Dead Gods damn it!" His feet kicked him over his shoulder and up to his feet, sprinting as a hail of splinter shards buried into the spot he had once stood. Kholivaz moved quickly, weaving between the Haemonculi's remaining creations and the Craftworlders, eyes set on the aged Farseer near the end of the chamber. A storm of shards followed him, the whine of the cannon always just behind. Desperation drove him to two things, the first being the fusion pistol appearing in his hand. Even one as insane as the Craftworlders may claim him to be, the Commorrite wasn't stupid. Such a weapon could very well blow a hole in the hangar, the miniature weapon of the Fire Dragons having nothing but raw destruction in it's frame. The second action was far more.. Difficult. As he raced towards the Farseer and the line of Craftworlders; splinter shards at his heels, he asked for help. Insanity. "Decrepit one! Destroy the carrion's shadow field so I may end this!"
"Ah come on Jamie! Is that all you have got?!" Venus demanded to know playfully, evading the Pulse Lasers easily. Her Nightshade was in a far better status than Rharijems, but this was just the start. This duel would be a marathon, not a sprint. Bright Lances being easily evaded through a minimal move towards his right - His craft 'Wind Wing' always shot too far to the left, he never adjusted it because he was used to it, but Venus seemed not to. Both Crafts passed each other, both making an upward loop... <Music> View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCQn7PGVopI Both engaged their Pulse Lasers, firing upon their each weapon systems. Rharijem spiraled - apparently aiming straight in the first engagement to kill both with a direct hit. Venus simply dived beneath it. "Don't be boring! Be more creative like the one time we did it in your cockpit!" She laughed, teasing him - Whilst he tried to ignore those memories and gritting his teeth, dashing straight forward, letting Venus get on his rear. He tipped his craft slightly to the right, slightly to the left, slightly up and down, not letting her read where he aimed to evade to. Although both closed down rapidly on the Anam Alqethir. The Bright Lances of Venus flashed with power at Rharijem - Who evades by simply flying straight as she indeed had thought he would evade to the right. The male dived down in the last moment to not crash into the Farseers flagship, Venus flying up. "Come on, I am not like those corsairs! Where is that Crimson Hunter who was so more aggressive and talented?!" "He died! I am no longer him! I will not become an Exarch, just like I won't become anyone's toy again!" Rharijem roared, unleashing his Bright Lances an inch too far as Venus adjusted her speed - having read his mind. Both flew towards each other again, their Pulse Lasers firing without mercy toward their cockpits, but landed no hits due too narrow angles. They rotated in such way that for one milli-cycle they could look into each others faces through the cockpits. At the same time they turned around to face each other again, so far no hits were landed as both were on par and knew their crafts inside and out. In the meanwhile Ishas Shield could do nothing but watch. Mereen narrowed his eyes, trying to keep track of the fight and he knew the moment one of them would jump in they would be dead, their lack of skill and their emotions would be only in the way. The question was just who would be like Vauls 100th Blade and would break and who would bring doom upon the other? Mereen knew if their leader should fall... They would fight for his soul and vengeance, ultimately to protect the Anam. "You can win, Crimson Lead!" The Darkstar Pilot dared finally to say, causing Rharijem to have a realization which casts a grin upon the experienced warriors gaze. 'Of course...' He almost had forgot about it already again, getting devoured by his rage! "Venus! You fight for nothing but your own entertainment, just like the old Rharijem fought for nothing but blind hatred and the rebirth of the Eldar Empire! This is why you lose! BECAUSE NOBODY WILL CRY FOR YOUR SOUL WHEN YOU DIE!" His Bright Lances fired, glowing with uncanny light, as if his will manifested and gave an extra power into them, slicing off the Pulse Laser of his once beloved own craft. Venus did not react as those words seemed to have her heart-struck. How could HE say that?! Out of all people?! He did not even have friends back on Mymeara! Even his family abandoned him! He does not know of his mother or his father! Who is HE to tell her she will not be missed?! That brought them together in the first place! Nobody understood but them that fighting was the only way to survive and that each warrior is better on their own. "And you are no better, Jamie! Once I kill you, there will be no tears shed, not even a funeral will be arranged for you! Not even those on Mymeara will care that their own kin died so far away from his home!" Venus exclaimed and returned the favor of his, her Lances impaling the left wing of Rharijem who could only laugh at the pathetic attempt of taking him out - His pulse Laser fired and drew a huge toll upon her left wing, far more serious than the damage he experienced. Where his wing had a huge hole it affected him not, because no crucial systems were hit - On Venus her Nightshade it differed though, after the first layer of material was shot off, some of the power conductors directly beneath got damaged which would ultimately reduce efficiency of either engine or one of the Brightlances. His wing just had a huge hole which would only be a problem if there would be any air flow, it missed either through luck or determination of this craft the important parts. The Two Nightshades distanced again in different directions, until Rharijem turned around and flying after Venus, she was buying time to fix the power level issues, just to realize there would be none. His Bright Lances fired to scare her and drag her into his Pulse Laser fire, which even worked out to his surprise, she lost her concentration. Too bad for himself, he did not hit anything hard enough to cause real damage. With an extreme sharp turn even with powered down engines of the female corsair allowed her, additional with the 'wrong' adjusted weapons, to fire and hit with a Bright Lance diagonally through the nose tip and parts of the Anamnialocian craft, cutting it cleanly off, leaving Rharijem basically with a half left wing - without his left Brightlance though. "Did not see that coming, huh?!" The female pilot teased him as he readied himself for the final Verdict. He pulled his Shuriken Pistol out of the security compartment. "Sudden Death, what do you say? Each gets one Brightlance shot." It seemed like an eternity until she replied. "Didn't had that offer for a while... Agreed." Both Pilots closed down on the center of the battlefield, with their half-destroyed crafts. It looked more like two wrecks floating next to each other in the void, rather than a duel... Only the length of one Nighthsade was between them. Their eyes pierced each others helmets, the Shuriken Pistol out of Venus sight, he opened his Pilot Cockpit, just like she did; at the same time. The artificial Gravity field still intact as it was not bound to the cockpit - Theoretically they could even take their helmets off and still breathe due to the advanced technology of the Eldar. "I still wonder why you wanted to kill me, mind to tell me before I dispose you, Rharijem the next Cyan Wing Exarch?" "Because you just used me as your toy. You promised me love and support, while in reality you just wanted to get to my exarch, my mentor. You wanted him, not me, a true child of Khaine, whereas I am still too bound to Isha. And such you became a danger to my mentor and I did what I had to in order to protect him." He answered reserved, the emerald eyes of his glowing strong through the helmet. The power of the self-realization, of course not having known back then why he felt so strong about his Exarch. His sub-conscious on the other hand, his warrior-self knew all the time that the Exarch was his father. "You are not as stupid as I expected you to be... Jamie." She laughed either sarcastic or hysterical. <Aftermath> <Music Change> View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vW3QK6CTg2g&index=27&list=RD3jho-peCAKs Rharijem simply rose his Shuriken Pistol and pumped the entire magazine into her face. The Shurikens shot through the helmet, but not quick enough which allowed her to activate her remaining Bright Lance which impaled the center of the Anamnialocian Nightshade, penetrating the power core. The Crimson Hunter grasped the dead Guardian and ejected himself from the craft, the explosion occurring just a blink of an eye afterward, catapulting him even further while devouring his legs. Both, the living and the dead Eldar had lost their lower bodies, while his former craft 'Wind Wing' just remained there with a dead female pilot and heavily damaged. In the distance the second Corsair Frigate exploded from the non-stop barrages of the Anam. A single blood-red tear rolled down Rharijems left eye. "I am sorry that I could not save more... Forgive me, all of you. Kurnose, Ishar, Aranethyr... Even you Venus, I am sorry I could not save your soul. But you were beyond redemption, you have done too much... Also you Minnaloushe, apologies that I could not save more. You were there for me in my darkest night. While I do not even know if you still live. Yet I live, through your actions. I shall find the map. The map that leads me toward you, there is nothing else I can... or want to do." The man embraced the dead Eldar as tight as he could, not letting the void rip her from his arms. Though he did not know all he said to himself was relayed through the 'Wind Wing' as it still was synchronized with his armor. The message was received by the Anams Crew, as well as Ishas Shield.
<Architect> A pair of invisible hands reached for his body, a vision of burnt bronze eyes and a skin like the desert sands engulfed him in an indescribable warmth. "Ace," her voice echoed. "My ace..." The Serpent's rune. Darkness wasn't all-engulfing, nor was he alone in the void.
<Aspect Warrior> "M-Minna? Tell me you live..." Was all Rharijem could produce in a weak voice, not sure if he was dreaming, going crazy or in the process of dying. But the warmth was undeniable and he embraced it, just like the dead female in his arms. He clung onto life due the mystery where the voice originated from.
Liriasol listened carefully as he moved. Visual signals were still plain to the sharp eyes of the Eldar in the gathering dusk, but he knew better than to reply on sight alone. There were scents in the deep green undergrowth, from simple spoor to the smell of bruised foliage as a creature shouldered through the brake. The Ranger caught a trace of something musky, slow-moving, warm bovine breath misting the night air. Kurnous, guide my aim ... he whispered, the long-powerless blessing now a memory. His children still knew what the Hunter God taught, and it was thus they honoured him, in this and in solemn remembrance.
