The orbo seller was one of those rare individuals who enjoy striking a bargain more as a slightly competitive sport than a means to simple trading, and Iktomi had all of his Corsair charm to call upon. The result sat now in his pocket, a nice little collection of green orbo crystals of very good purity, and a little shard of something she called ymilan which she said was strictly not for smoking but for cleaning out the pipe to ensure it burned sweetly. It was a good day to be alive, still more as he could feel the call to the rendezvous point growing now that he had everything he needed. Time to seek out what every Pirate wants - treasure, whether knowledge, artifacts or riches.

As Iktomi sauntered back through the shadier market districts he could feel eyes on him - not those of an enemy or a predator, this time, not in the strict sense of the word ... he smiled, receiving a frankly appraising stare followed by a grin in response. Some Corsairs are anything but meek Craftworld ladies. Certainly an interesting day to be a dashing free trader out on a mission to make a legend.



[OOC If there's anything more you want let me know and I'll edit!]

The little warp spider climbed onto the Warlock's palm, its tiny weight barely sensed as it settled onto the ball of his thumb. Morvan's emotions swirled, and it seemed for a moment to be caught up in them, rising as if in a tiny vortex a couple of centimetres over his gloved hand. Then it dropped, quite harmlessly, and sat still, beady black eyes looking up at the giant above it. A moment later it ran up his index finger, and pressed four of its limbs around it as tightly as it could.

For a moment the Warlock thought it might be trying to bite, but there was no sensation of teeth, or any venom ... if the little creatures had any? ... only the lightest pressure as the spider exerted all its strength. It held the position for half a minute. Morvan had never seen anything like it. Then it ran up his wrist, seeking a little bare patch of skin, which it tested carefully with the tip of one leg. The Seer felt nothing - no intrusion, no breaking the skin. It brought the limb to its mouth in a delicate gesture. Then it bobbed once, looking up at him, its colours becoming a little brighter and more cheerful, and dematerialised, as its kin are known to do.

Over closer to the ship, he could see the two Rangers - Artar and Faenkon - talking among themselves as they waited for the others to arrive. Time to leave this worldship and go, if only briefly, out into the void.

Once they had concluded their business aboard the Craftworld, the group gathered at the rendezvous point [ @DaBlackOrk @Xaphen @BlackShield @Zyver_Wyrdmake @High_Adept_Zeth @DaKaptin ].

The scoutship was a small vessel, but nonetheless the sleek hull held a fine compliment of guns - starcannon and fore and aft laser batteries. Not a ship about to take any nonsense. Its equally practical (not to say Piratical) and equally well-armed Captain was an older Eldar woman, about 400 years old, with a tough exterior and somewhat plain-speaking way about her. Also, from the brief time spent with her so far, not one to tolerate fools. Fortunately, none of the little group could be described as foolish. She escorted the seven Eldar into the passenger seats of the star-runner, advising them to strap in, stow their gear and be aware of their surroundings.

"It won't take us too long to reach your destination," she said, "I have orders to drop you off, make sure you get a good start and then leave to await you once your mission is done."

"Captain Ellessia," Avrielle said, fearlessly speaking up, "are we to make our daily contacts with you, then, instead?"

"No, make them with Warlock Liasethanil, as arranged," she said, and slid into her pilot's seat at the front of the ship. Time to leave Lugganath.

The star-runner shot into the void, the vast bulk of the worldship below a Leviathan surrounded by shoaling vessels as bright as tropical fish. The speed was incredible. Yet thanks to superior Eldar technology, all that could be felt was an exhilirating sensation of acceleration, and a slight popping of sensitive ears. Ellessia wove the craft around huge trading ships in anchor at the huge dorsal star-ports, and underneath a visiting Biel-tan vessel with a speed that stole the breath. Her hands ran over the consoles in well-practiced arpeggios, crystals lighting at her touch. Lugganath, beautiful Corsair haven, hope of the Eldar race, was soon a dimming shadow behind the surging craft.

Now - seven days from the cut-off point for the return journey - it did not take too long to arrive close to the scene of the last sighting. All eyes were on the section of space ahead (save those that wandered, out of habit or paranoia, seeking any other dangers that might intervene at a moment like this). And soon, appearing out of the void like a flame spreading up a sheet of paper, the bright shape of a ship came into view.

The ship was unmistakably Eldar in design. Rael and Iktomi could not place it among any of the known Corsair bands. Faenkon and Artar had not seen anything quite like it in their travels - to Artar, although he could see some design elements found in Craftworld and Dark Eldar styles respectively, the one it most recalled was that of the Exodites. But it had a more fanciful, less rigidly functional line. It appeared to have sustained no damage from the void apart from the light pocking from meteors and micro-meteorites that spacefaring entails. It looked large enough to sustain at least one habitat - the green lungs of a travelling Eldar ship - and the more rounded midsection definitely held more than basic accommodation and armaments. Sleek weapons housing decorated the hull at several points, and there were aft ventral bays in which the small scoutship might land. Ellessia brought the vessel in slowly, scanning the hull for any signs of hostility - or anything else. The ship did not fire, but something caused her to frown nonetheless.

"I cannot make any sort of readings for life signs. The ship is shielded, as the Seers said. I detect no weapons systems targetting us but," she spared a short glance over one shoulder, "in that case, how could we tell?"

Avrielle looked to her neighbour. This did not inspire confidence.

Krocell strapped into the seat he had chosen, adjusting his posture until he had found one where the seat did not feel so awful. He was not so fond of sitting with his armour on. No, no.
A chainsword of the Oex pattern, normally seen in the hands of all Striking Scorpions, rested on his hip with the sleekly built shuriken pistol resting on the opposite side.
He had opted against putting on his helmet, instead letting it rest on his lap until it would be required.

Pretty, the Scorpion thought when he saw the ship, even amazing. So very, very Eldar in design, yet so far from anything I have ever seen or read about. Can't we go any faster? Just the tiniest of bits faster.
Spirit of adventure sparked inside, desire to walk the unknown ship's corridors and to collect whatever writings it might have.
What great stories it must hold within.

"Well, if I might point out the obvious; they would have fired at us already if they had intended so. Unless they fancy letting us throw wild ideas around before blasting us from existence, they are not going to fire." Krocell said, voicing what he very well thought obvious, but saying it anyways.

He imagined the Scorpion inside watching everything from afar; acknowledging everything with the eye of a warrior, but not taking part in anything, just watching from deep within Krocell's spirit.

Checking his gear one final time he looks up to see what the pilot is concerned about. Something was definitely spooking her, hopefully they weren't about to be shot out of the void.

- Iktomi
The ymilan worked like a charm, hadn't been this good since he bought it... 'Was that really 70 cycles ago? I should probably stop soon. Might stunt my growth...' He thinks while taking another drag.
The scout vessel was impressive, as was her Captain Ellessia. A void sailer of great experience, and she carried herself with diginity. As if on the bow of some great war vessel. 'To the Captain, a ship is their home.'
When they arrived, Iktomi had since stopped smoking. His full attention on the massive vessel. "This is something else. Such an unique design, and it's size is impressive. Might not be a bad idea to just get the engines running and take the whole thing back. Bound to have a few items of interest about it."

Noticing the two rangers looking at him,and with a dematerialization of the warp spider,Morvan headed for the ship,saluting the two gentlemen with a nod of his head as he entered.

Pale Warlock strapped himself in the seat that was nearest to him.With a helmet in his lap,and his Witchblade beside him,suspended in mid-air with his psyhic power,Morvan wondered at peculiar behavior the warp spider exhibited.With a shake of his head he dispelled the thoughts from his mind,allowing his full attention to fall on the matters on hand.A tiny bit of himself missed the little creature,even despite the dangers he could be found in,if it accompanied him.

Captain Ellessia was obviously a practical woman.That could have been seen in her movements,speak pattern and generally,body language.One didnt needed to be a Warlock to spot certain things and Ellessia was certainly not an enigma of the galaxy.A strange sparks formed as Morvan observed her aura...a tingling of pain.Captain certainly saw a thing or two,after all...she appeared older then him.Careful observation of her suppressed emotion,the very flood that she kept at bay spoke of her age well enough.She was at least twice as old,and she didnt change much over her years.How typical and tragic somewhat...

As the craft sped away,Morvan sat calmly in his seat,hands on his crystal-white helmet,he himself contemplating on the importance of the mission and how expendable they are.Certainly...Eldar lives are valuable,but better to send a group of mostly non-Lugganathians then an entire squad of Aspect warriors.It was a cold practicality,with nothing menacing about it,but still Morvan didnt like it.He saw before his beloved kin turning into,cold and calculated killing machines,doing everything in the interest to protect the race.Some...measures...are simply not worth it,even if survival was in question.What good of,is the survival,if the survivors are only Eldar in flesh and blood?

Thankfully such grim thoughts were quickly dispelled as their destination came within visual range.The ship was sleek,not Craftworld sleek...but still it reeked of Crone design.Definitely Fall-era.He has seen them before,on that faithful day on a distant,Warp-infested Crone World.Tho never class like this,and even then only wrecks of ships,mostly transports,if even that.This was promising to be a marvelous day,a void-worthy Eldar Fall-era ship.Who knows what technology is stored within,the knowledge...the power?!

Warlock knew this was not a picnic,combat was probably to be expected in one form or another.This relic of the past,albeit marvelous,giving a glimpse of the Eldar glory days,was just that,a relic of the past.It should have stayed there for a reason,and its emergence was as every bit unsettling as it was promising.

The pilot found a place that looked, so far as anyone was any judge. most like a docking bay. She made scans and swept the area, but as shielded as the ship was it was mostly visual checking in the end. A testament to the visual acuity of the Children of the Gods. Empty, and large enough to hold a strike cruiser, it swallowed the little scoutship easily. There was a faint hiss and the sense of slight resistance as the vessel penetrated the field surrounding the bay that kept outer space outer and the air within. Ellessia's readings showed breathable atmosphere, if a little odd in composition - more oxygen than normally found on the Craftworld, and a few traces of rare gasses - but nothing poisonous. She set down and, once the group was ready to disembark, opened the exit hatch.

"Khainespeed and fair journey, may Hoec guide your steps," she said, still restlessly flickering the ship's lights around the inside of the bay. It was plain, for the most part simple psychoplastic, with a border around the edges worked in ornate knot pattern similar to those found among the Exodites, save that here and there amid the forms it was hard to tell if they were abstract or represented something more figurative. Animals, perhaps, or the coiling bodies of mythical beasts. There were only two exits from the shallow bay, excluding the void: one small door, with a jewelled access panel, and one larger exit with double blast-resistant doors, likewise with a jewelled command node.

"Thank you," called Avrielle cheerfully, with a hint of excitement as she bundled the last of her contact gear out and began to strap it in place on her back.

"Good luck," said Ellessia, raising a hand in salute as she went to take off and make her return flight. "See you in seven days or so, Fate willing."

The silence after the adroit scoutship manouvred back into the void was broken only by the slight pock of tiny meteorites fizzing against the field. Avrielle scanned the dimly-lit bay, the faintest of glows from lightglobes lending her pale face an eerie cast.


[OOC @DaBlackOrk @Xaphen @BlackShield @Zyver_Wyrdmake @High_Adept_Zeth @DaKaptin Exploring time has come! ]

Upon seeing the mighty expanse that was the docking bay he opted to carry the extra weight of the Long Rifle. Once outside the craft he scanned the area from inside his helmet looking for access to the higher ground. Hopefully he could locate a high vantage point while the others opened the door. Plus there was more than likely a control room located above for ease of viewing and directing incoming crafts.

He turned to the group, "I'm going to find some high ground maybe I can even find the control room. With that we should have ship logs which will pinpoint a time period for this vessel." With that said he made his way to explore with his Long Rifle slung he carried his Shuriken Pistol just incase. Even being Eldar in design he still treated this environment as a hostile entity who's sole purpose was to feed his soul to 'She Who Thirsts'. (I think that's right?)