"Hmm...it seems we are back to the Infinity Circuit biosphere..."said a solemnly held figure that approached the grim bunch of Eldar Guardians,woundees and a human.As Zeth approached the group exiting a shaft that lead to this sphere he tossed a glance toward few of the comatosed Eldar in the med pods.Their eyebrows twitched and lips were uttering something from time to time as if they could feel the presence of the psyhic matrix that is their Infnity Circuit. "I know the way from here to the bridge."said Zeth as he stoped near one of the med pods that seemigly was losing internal pressure and the glass-like transperent panel was becoming ever more so clear. "How much time do we have before these pods go critical?"asked Nurin as he turned toward the duo Guardians.The desert wind blew toward them mesmerising the Errant`s robes slightly.
<Zonid and Xerah-El of Anamnialoc> "They still have half a cycle. Our brothers and sisters from the main force should come for us soon - the battle is over," responded the male. "We... Would like to thank you, human, for standing with us against the promise of violence," added his companion. Around Zeth, around a dozen wounded Eldar nodded approvingly.
"Gratitude?Hmm...i see your reasoning and i thank you for speaking your mind Guardians."said Zeth as he half-bowed to them and the wounded Eldar. "Since we got time on our hands...i would like to go deeper into this desert."said Zeth as his gaze trailled off into the distance were the duststorm blocked any greater depth of view.Even his augmentations couldnt pierce the thick sand curtain that has arisen in the desert.It was most diffinetly psyhic in origin and not the usual part of the biosphere. "Miss Harbringer...stay with the group i have something to observe."said Zeth as he made his way across the desert.Nearing the duststorm he found that he had to invest ever more so strenght with every step of the way.The wind was very strong and visibility was almost brought down to zero...at least to those that were not blessed with the gifts of the Machine God.He wondered...how in His name is this controled enviroment. Leaning on his Power Axe with both of his hand...his hood flapping left and right with his back hunched and his eyesight kept to the group,the venerable Errant looked more like a lost pilgrim then a man of science and explorer of the God-Emperor`s realm and all its wonders....
<Kholivaz> Kholivaz's hand snapped back to the table as if stung, his intentions pure. Well, almost. He stared at the Exodite, fascinated by the mixture of grief and defensive anger beneath the surface. It was almost innocent, his clueless behavior concerning the grieving warrior. If innocence could ever be associated with the children of the Dark City. The former Hellion laid his head back as he decided it best not to push Astora to giving the Healers a greater amount of work to do. An all too familiar voice came from behind a nearby curtain and his eyes snapped to where Daeva stood hidden, "Dae-", he brought a hand up to his face with a grimace. It was obvious he had not been looking forward to this, being under the influence of a Healer once again.
<Desek> Sitting up the Warlock freed himself of the blood puddle, shaking out his damp robes as they clung to his limbs. Looking about in full at everything about him Desek frowned and began to wander almost aimlessly amongst the fallen. It was a well trained reaction he had picked up over his years, when one awoke amongst a field of dead they should wander and gather before anything else; to pick upon the fallen and make sure no soul stones that might be preserved are lost. Warmth was returning to his limbs, though whether it was the spilt blood against his flesh coming to fold as the unnatural chill left him or simply his body shaking off the grim paler brought on by his memories he couldn't be entirely sure. It mattered little.
<Aspect Warrior> The Mymearan opened his eyes as life around him started to pick up. All the unconscious woke up, almost at once as if they were summoned to be awoken. He smiled soft on the revelation of them being fine, though he did not speak to them for each had their own thoughts or guests. <Artisan> "You had me scared, my friend. Like back then when I had to drag you out of the Vespid cave which you thought to be an Eldar Ruin." Zryas-Vehd said with a soft smile and stroke the Farseers hair a bit out of his face. The Artisan was not as old as the Seer, but still wrinkles became even upon his Eldar face visible. Since he ever arrived on the Anam Alqethyr, the Yme-Locian aged a felt millenium. At the same time, he was glad to back at Aranethyrs side.
<Farseer Aranethyr> "That time with the Vespids counts for naught," the Seer argued. There was something younger in him, like that arrogance and feelings of being invincible that came with those who could still count their years. He began trying to lift himself up, but the Healer that had worked so hard to amend his inner crystal cuts and the splinter-pierced stomach placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder. Farseer Aranethyr brushed her off. "I need to make a statement... The Anamnialocii-"
<Daeva Arimane> "Charmed to see you too," started the Healer. "Don't worry, I won't need to put you in a trance. I'll just," she placed some runes around the former hellion, which levitated above his wounds and emitted a strange multi-coloured light. "Leave these hanging here and I'll be back in a while - don't move them or they won't be able to reconstruct your tissue." Daeva's voice was warm, yet seductive. A mother's and a lover's all at once.
<Architect> Night played on and the Aspects on Medyenya rested before the vigilant eye of Kara'shanwe. Visethianne the poet slept with his back leaned against the oversized roots of an ancient tree with his rifle in hand and his over-the-shoulder aim assistant scanning the inscrutable of the jungle. A pale white smoke came out of the fireplace, it's trail dying before it reached an Eldar's height. One of the four Moons of the planet shone amidst her temporary throne of stars.
Zryas-Vehd pressed him gentle back into the bed. "I can deliver. You, rest. We don't want to risk you trip, fall and ram some of your crystals in your important organs, do we?" The Artisan was certainly not known for jokes and his rather extreme worst-case example was just showing even more how serious he was about his friends status.
