<Cair> The Reaper turned towards the pilot. "No, I gave the Shaper my word, and the last thing we need is two alien races on this planet who don't like us."
<Architect> With a small respectful nod to the Aspect, the pilot moved forward - down the cliff side and through the foliage. The Kroot gates, of impossibly large tree trunks, got bigger and bigger as the Eldar advanced. Through the spikey barricades, the gruesome trophies began becoming more evident, as skulls, helmets and rifles littered the approach - even a small human tank, decorated by banners of the Kroot. A horn stopped Minnaloushe in her tracks. It echoed through the air so tense. The gate opened slowly...
<Architect> The gate made way, sliding upward like the maw of an enormous wooden beast. "Visethianne?" Asked Minna. "We're going in," he replied. The crew-appointed captain didn't want to word his concerns, but he slowly readied his rifle. Inside there were dozens of Kroot assembled in a semi-circle, with two Krootox riders on each side. A Shaper stood in the centre, clearly waiting for the Eldar. "Guardians, box formation. Minna, auto-target the large beasts, Cair, Amriel - you're with me. Vethellien, you stand by the ramp and be ready to cover our retreat should be needed. Liss Kara'shanwe, be ready to warp behind their lines - and Liriasol... You take aim at their leader, don't miss." The Avenger sighed. "If things look bad, don't hesitate to carry on, team." The four Guardians aligned behind the Avenger and Minna turned 180 to release them. "Open the main ramp, Minna."
<Cair> The Reaper nods, grabbing the message from his armor as he moves behind Visethianne. "Ready when you are Brother." <Amriel> The Corsair stands as well "Right behind you Visethianne."
<Kholivaz> The Commorrite smiled at the ancient Eldar, a rictus grin more easily found on a skull- Like Nezorath's hanging off of his belt- than on a living being. "Many thanks, old one." With that the former Hellion took off, leaving the Halls of Isha before wearing out his welcome with.. well.. Everyone.
((OoC: Work, school, and social life have been keeping me super busy, Uriel. Just now looked back and saw the post. Also power at my place is out so I'm on my phone. Apologies for typos.))
OOC: awwww poor skarboy *pat pat* well hope all gets better soon! And sorry, I am just eager The Artisan was busy with thoughts as a familiar individual stepped into the edge of his vision field. "Now if that is not the man with the hundred knives." Zryas-Vehd said with a sly smirk. "Got to use your... Gift, yet?" He was obviously referring to the knife he had left in his room back then when they met for the first time and had quite a conversation.
<Kholivaz> The Commorrite gave a sly grin as he patted the skull hanging from his belt, "That I have Zryas-Vehd, one of two that snagged me this prize. It is actually one of the reasons I now seek you out. You offered me your services and I need them for.. Someone else." Kholivaz was clearly in unfamiliar water. Doing something for another? What madness was this?
<Desek> At last some semblance of peace had fitted into place and Desek was momentarily freed from duties aboard their strike cruiser to return to his room for rest. Perhaps in a less strained time he would seek out the healers but his most grievous wounds were all of mental strain and would thus require but simple rest. Having dropped off most of his supplies within the armory for repair and care the Iyandite wandered off down the halls in little more than a pair of white trousers that reached down to his knees, well beyond the point of much modesty as he shambled toward his quarters...to find like many others the door had been broken down and the Kabalites had helped themselves to scavenging the place. It was moments like this he was glad he left anything of value behind, trusting his memories as the only mementos of home and loved ones he needed, physical objects never lasted so long as things so happened to be. Wandering over to his bed he found the sheets had been ruffled up and various....stains present, blood making up only a quarter of them. Feeling his stomach churn the grabbed an edge, and cast it away into a ball by the corner, falling flat onto the mattress and laying face down with a slow groan before ultimately passing into sleep.
