Previously @Uriel1339 @Jorimel
Iktomi listened to Yareli's comments. A little taken aback, but standing by his honesty. Then she told the tale of heroic Corsairs combating the dark kin of Commorragh. "Truly, such a tale is worth a few drinks at the local port. I particularly enjoyed the bit where the Lord-Admiral Yriel himself swept you to safety. Obviously he would have proposed then and there if your father hadn't been there, right? One might think you're trying to make me jealous of wielder of Twilight... As if he wasn't hard enough to compete with." Iktomi laughed jovially.
The Eldritch Raiders and The Void Dragons were not enemies, but they were in competition. Conflicts over territory, salvage, and dueling was very common between all Corsair bands.
After coming to his aid, Avrielle asked of Iktomi's ship. "The Arcadia? Yes, I believe it to still be in working order. Not that's it's currently under my orders. Before we met, that ship was my home. My chariot through the stars and place where I keep my stuff. Are you interested in seeing it for yourself? I'm sure it can be arranged..."
Iktomi finished with a mischievous grin.
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Now within the Audience Chamber, Iktomi thinks what an Eldar with everything going for him would want.

Warlock Liasethanil spoke with several of the Eldar present discretely, for they wished to give their requests privately or else had other questions to ask. He took note of everything, and with the scribe at his side sent the information back to not-so-distant Lugganath so that the gifts could be ready upon their arrival.

The return to the Craftworld was swift, The Wrath of Asuryan arrowing through the void with the elegance of one of Kurnous' darts. A scatter of smaller ships now clustered around the Hope of Eldanesh - home to those on the Path of the Diplomat, the Scientist, the Archivist, the Artist. As the Wrath drew away, the singular vessel of the revered Bards of Twilight passed with an honour guard of lesser ships. Perhaps the Ancients knew of tales that were elsewhere forgotten? It was their sacred duty to preserve every mythic cycle of the old Empire, the better to learn and know what was done, and must remain forever undone.

On arrival at Lugganath, well-appointed visitors' chambers were made available to those who did not live upon the worldship. Krocell and Firlone took their leave, returning to their Shrines, and after being presented with a wrapped package in shades of dull green, Artar silently vanished into the webway confluence of the port with the slightest wave of farewell. The Ranger desired his own company for a while.

Kethellion took another such gift, though his was smaller as he stowed it carefully away. He looked over at the small group with whom he'd travelled. He beamed across at Kortana, always slightly more cheerful in her presence, and looked down at Avrielle. The little radiotech smiled back, looking slightly saddened.

"You're going on, then?"

"Yes," he confirmed, "I'm going back to Lord Serontine's realm. I - made a couple of agreements there, to speak with people, to share information. And besides, I think you have skill enough in the lore of the webway," he nodded to Sarik and Kortana, this time professional. "And - well, as I said, one must be prepared to find happiness anywhere." He looked at Morvan, giving the slightly older Eldar a small bow of respect.

Avrielle gave Kethellion a tight hug.

"You take care of yourself, and ... and remember to eat!" she said, looking up at him once more. All other farewells said, the young Ranger took his leave.

A wide, elegant aircar swooped down from the main concourse, flown by a young woman on the Path of the Pilot with the characteristic flair of those who studied on the Corsair Craftworld. Nonetheless, it was possible to enjoy a smooth ride to the Chambers of Fourfold Instruction, next to the vaulted dome where the Seer Council met to deliberate the fate of all who sailed on Lugganath. Warlock Liasethanil would present the remaining gifts here and outline the mission he had presented aboard the Wrath in more detail.

[more]

The Chambers of Fourfold Instruction were lofty, four-lobed, delicately wrought from a filigree of electrum and leaves of pale peridot and citrine. The yellow-gold of a young sun's synthetic fire illuminated the space, sending rays down between the gaps in the canopy. One almost expected jewelbirds to hover and dart between the artificial trees, but instead watch-drones perched secretively at the entrances. One scanned Faenkon's own, but did not raise an alarm.

Warlock Liasethanil waited on a dais in the southernmost lobe - the direction of travel to far lands in the lore of Eldanesh - accompanied by his spirit-guides and one Warlock in training. As promised, he had brought what was agreed.

To Kortana, the Warlock gave a long bundle wrapped in an embroidered cloth, tied with two separate sealed cords. To Yareli, he presented a small crystal wafer, inscribed with the rune of Lileath Dancing Beneath Unsundered Stars, and a flat circular box in plain iolar wood. He took Morvan to one side for a moment, Llyr padding along beside his feet, and spoke to him, Seer to Seer. He looked to Avrielle, who still wore the Corsair's hat, and an eyebrow rose in the slightest gesture of surprise. The young radiotech returned his gaze with respect, but held it. Liasethanil, to those that knew the Warlock, seemed pleased by her response. He passed her a small plate, about palm-sized, that fitted against her Guardian armour just under the neckline and above the waystone. It was enameled in orange and black, and bore three gems. He handed Faenkon a small pouch of saurid skin, and turned to Iktomi. Still without his hat.

"I am a modest Eldar," Iktomi began, gesturing around the chamber, "as I am sure my companions will tell you. Especially my dear Yareli," he said, with a smile.

"I hear that congratulations are in order," Warlock Liasethanil said, without the slightest hint of skepticism.

Iktomi bowed.

"And I could not ask for anything more than the happiness being with you all has brought me," he declared grandly.

With the presentation over, the small group adjourned to the chairs set around a small, decorative pool in the floor of the chamber. It was rumoured to be useful for scrying, yet now it only reflected the faux-sky above, leaves rustling with whispered breezes. Two other Eldar were escorted into the chamber, their honour guard of two Fire Dragons falling back once they had brought them to council. The Warlock stood once more.

"I present Imaldris, Warlock of Ulthwe, Scryer of the Seas of Fate." A tall, well-built Eldar male in the black robes of an Ulthwe Seer stepped forward, a Singing Spear in his hand. He moved with grace, measured and with perfect balance. His pale yellow eyes regarded the group.

"Spiritseer Irlityra Caensela of Lugganath, Speaker of the Dead That Yet Live, Sacred Bridge between their world and ours." The Warlock bowed his head a little in further respect of one prepared to place her mind fully within the Infinity Matrix and commune with the dead. Irlitrya wore her robes in the most autumnal of Lugganath's shades, her long brown hair a freeform cascade over them. A Witch Staff in her hand bore signs of vigil and discovery, and tiny spirals of neatly-carved runes wove around the wooden shaft.

After introductions had been made, and water poured for those that wished to drink, Warlock Liasethanil began to elaborate on his proposed mission at last.

"Word has reached us from our Rangers that we have a treasure great beyond measure within our grasp if we are bold. The chances of this rumour, rather than any other, look well upon the skein." He paused. This was not a thing to be said lightly.

You must speak of it to the younglings, they will listen well, Zamenath encouraged him.

So long as I do not persist in remarking upon their age, ta-aesthir, perhaps, he replied, before speaking aloud once more. Such was the comfort of Seers.

"You know, doubtless, of the Dream of Iyanden, to awaken the last hope of the Eldar in the form of omened Ynnead," he said, gravely, feeling the weight of his five centuries. Warlock Liasethanil did not believe in the grim counsel of Iyanna Ariennal as written, but he did respect her power as a Seer. "We of Lugganath do not believe as House Haladesh believes: that the Justified One may only be awoken from the spirits of every last Eldar, dead. That is the counsel of despair. But we believe that, nonetheless, Ynnead may yet awaken."

"When this being arises, they will need a weapon - the symbol of Hope in the Darkness, the sign that the Eldar will never go willingly into that last winter night, that we will fight, eternally, to reclaim our peace and the souls of our people. That we will one day free our gods, tearing them from the vile belly of the Dark Prince, taking back what was stolen and devoured by She Who Thirsts, avenging the fallen!" His voice swelled as he spoke, and the air in the chamber resonated with martial fervour.

"We will stand beside the Justified One and we will triumph!" The Warlock took a breath. His hand as he held the glass trembled slightly, and he took a sip of water. "I am asking you to seek out the Sword-"

"This is where you're hiding!" There was a commotion at the entrance to the chamber, and the two Guardians stationed there were pushed back, one scuffling with another Eldar as he pushed him to the floor. The first was nimbler, evading her would-be captor and striding into the conclave.

Void Dreamer Reevia stepped up next to Iktomi and sat down, making herself a space. Warlock Liasethanil was frozen, clearly numbed by the massive breach in etiquette yet also very much debating whether he needed to act in violence.

"So what did Juri and I miss?" She turned back to the other, now rising from the minor tumble and darting free to join her before he could be re-caught. "Come on, Juri, stop messing about." Alerts were sounding and the watch-drones powered laser-targetting matrices. Warlock Liasethanil held up a hand and they stood at Ready, but did not fire. Juri hurried over and found himself a place beside Avrielle, grinning at her as he took a glass of water and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Nice hat."

"As good as it is to see my two dear companions," Iktomi said, carefully, "how did you bypass the no doubt considerable security for a place like this?"

"Flagrant abuse of your authority and use of the Sigil of a Void Dragon Felarch in former good standing with the Seer Council of Lugganath," said Reevia, skating over the former like Kurnous over an icy fjord. "You aren't doing it to us again." She turned to Liasethanil, regarding him for a moment before looking back to Iktomi. "Who's your handsome friend?"

"Warlock Liasethanil, of the Seer Council of Lugganath," Liasethanil said, not flattered, and clearly keeping his outrage in an icy grip of its own. "Felarch Iktomi, are these Eldar with you on this mission?"

" ... yes?" suggested Iktomi. More, guidelines.

"The Seer Council wishes you to seek out the lost Sword of Eldanesh. We have located the Sea of Broken Tears, and re-traced the steps of Inriam the Young. Where some say that there are fragments of this sword wielded by great warriors in various Craftworlds, the Skein disagrees and we of Lugganath see these as lesser swords made by the Smith God for Khaine. This blade - the one we seek - is the very one wielded by Eldanesh. It will not be easy to find, nor will the route be a safe one even with the guidance of Seers," he nodded to the newcomers respectfully, "but we believe that the chance is worth the risk, if you will take it."

He paused, looking to each Eldar in turn. "I will answer any questions you may have, and give you all the information our scouts have gathered and Seers divined."

"And I believe that you now have a ship?"

[ OOC @DaKaptin @Uriel1339 @kanila @Kalle @High_Adept_Zeth @Casavay @Nurianis @Colapse We set sail once more! Thank you for your patience and understanding ]

[EDIT: Sadly Casavay can no longer join us due to work pressures.]

Placing the pouch safely away, Faenkon slowly digested the information given. So many questions, but how many truly had answers? Before anything could be said he watched the late comers to the gathering. He decided it best to remain in silence and listen to the others before venturing his questions aloud. He knew that no question was foolish but with the current mood that now hung in the air it was best to stay on the side of caution rather than to earn the ire of Warlock Liasethanil.

Adorned with the new necklace-choker which was a strong contrast with it's orange versus her blue-teal clothing and ice-cold sapphire eyes, Yareli did listen quite with her full attention, even though the younglings that came to Iktomi's side was rather... Distracting. She rose to her full length, standing tall as the speech concluded.

"A dangerous task you present thee presents us with." Yareli started, sounding harsh and whipping like a cold wind, but the smile on her face gave way for what was to come. "Indeed one worthy of hero's tale so to speak. And if any of us were to live to talk of the tale how Faolchú reincarnated in spirit within a brave group of Eldar, then may we not just be earning true fame but recover something that may change the fate of our very species. Thus, thou humble guests, shall surely become the ancient messenger incarnate, at least of two I am most certain." The noble smiled at Iktomi and Avrielle, giving them a little assuring nod. However she may have dressed her words in silk to let believe it was for the greater of the species, in reality there was a personal motive in this mission. Were they to indeed succeed and return the fabled blade that so many others have sought out only to never return, and especially with the Felarch as their de-facto captain... Then there might be not just a bond of souls, but in fact a long-term investment. Iktomi easily could attract after such tale hundreds of corsairs and declare independence from the Void Dragons. And with the diplomatic contacts and skill that she could provide herself, they could form a corsair force to be reckoned with. Major bonds with at least two craftworlds from the ground up would ensure steady flow of those that are on the Path of the Outcast and good trading relations which would be needed.

Indeed, this could not just be a way to declare independence for Iktomi and break the chain that bound him to Saarania, but her very own instead.

As the two uninvited guests settled happily into the chamber, Yareli considered the matter on many levels. She could see the purpose behind the offered mission, but perhaps she might seek to leaven it with her own, or twine her path more firmly with the coming way? In either case it was an opportunity. One that the Farseer's daughter was not slow to see.

Just as Warlock Liasethanil was about to answer a question from Morvan, the chamber doors opened once more, this time in accordance with protocol. The entering Eldar was a tall, strongly-built soldier, dressed in the flame colours of the Children of Fuegan, the Fire Dragons. Bare-headed to show that he was not under the War Mask, the Eldar had no hair at all, showing the almost sculptural quality of his bone structure. Piercing green eyes took in the meeting at once.

"Warlock Liasethanil, Lady of the Raging Inferno's Leaping Embers sends her wishes for your success in War," he said, bowing his head briefly as he delivered the formal greeting from his Shrine's Exarch. "The Seers have sent me to aid you, as was decreed."

"Welcome, Amriel," the Warlock replied, seeming unphased by this latest interruption. He made brief, yet polite, introductions and outlined the mission once more.

"Ask what you will, my kin, the lore of our runes and our minds is at your disposal."


[ @MetalDog4 welcome to the Seas of Fate! ]

"Thank you Warlock Liasethanil. I look forward to working together with you all." A smile momentarily lit up his face as he took in his surroundings.

He had been briefed...very...well briefly on what was going on, and the names of these people had already slipped from his mind. He would have to learn them all again. Amriel took one of the few remaining seats, his meltagun sliding around in its sling to rest in his lap as he sat down and focused his attention on the remainder of the briefing. He would stay silent through the first part, waiting to see what questions the others would have. Undoubtedly their questions would give him some insight as to their capabilities, as they had been working together for a while now, and would have the measure of each other's strengths and weaknesses.

"Is that the rune of Yme-Loc I see upon you, Amriel the Aspect Warrior?" Yareli asked with quite some interest and bowed to the meltagun slinger. "I am Yareli Norelia, Noblewoman of Mymeara. Wandering the Path of the Diplomat and destined to be soul-bond to the Felarch, Iktomi." She gestured to the hatless Corsair. "It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance and in the name of our delegation want to extend my gratitude towards you and Yme-Loc for allowing us to be here with us and aid in this noble cause. I am sure as quick as I was inducted in the group not just as fellow-at-arms, but also friend," She smiled at Avrielle, the hat-wearing radiotech, but was quick to turn back to the newcomer. "you shall also become an integral part of our delegation."

Yareli finished with Amriel and gave attention to the other newcomers she failed to introduce herself to, due to the imminent matter at hand (@Colapse , @Nurianis ) . "Of course. That counts for all three of you, since we happen to be in this unique situation all together there is no reason why we should not forge close bonds of friendship. And I think a better time for such conversations would be once we are amongst ourselves and not take any more time up of the venerable Warlock."

"Even the thoughts of standing next to a God might turn one's good intentions into unhealthy ambition," Imaldris spoke next while leaning on his twin-edged spear as if needing its support. A small deception thrown out in the open in order for him to feel the pulse of those around him. It was important to know the thoughts of your "adversaries" both in war and in...politics. Or perhaps those two were the same? Ah, the eternal question!

He smiled inwardly but the emotion never reached his eyes. "And if your belief is wrong and Ynnead does not awake before the final hour, then what? Surely, it will be a boon for our race to recover such a mighty artifact but where will it be kept? Forgive me, but I've yet to see the proof why such relic should be guarded on a Craftworld like this - who knows, maybe a thought will arise in minds of one of your guests that a weapon like that might be better standing on a wall in a Corsair Captain's cabin?"

"My point is - if such relic of a bygone era indeed exists the quest to acquire it must be undertook with maximum care and precision because a weapon like that will unquestionably draw lots of unwanted attention from various parties, both friendly and hostile, and to get it so we could just lose it again would be even worse than the situation where are in now," Warlock finished. His approach to the problem at hand was indeed much more practical because in truth, he hardly believed Ynnead would "behave" like these people believed and awake out of nowhere and even if he did, would he really need a weapon of a hero which eventually failed to protect its wielder from fury of another God?