OOC THREAD ~~Dramatis Personae~~ @BadDo9 - Sairan Husir'sintai - Exarch @Uriel1339 - Anduthir Zarin @Maleth - Ariskia Celarena @Jorimel - Linaya Talathriel @Nurianis - Ladornarr @Colapse - Valerian @Vlayden - Vailaniel Malkan ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sairan Husir'sintai, Striking Scorpion Exarch of the Shadowed Blade, took in a deep breath. The time of war was nigh. There were no hints to be seen in the craftworld known as the Swordwind, no war council had been called, but he needed none of those. He was the fifth to lose himself to the path of war, the fifth to wear this armor. One who knew war beyond all else needed no hints that war was near. It was a scent in the air, a voice on the wind. It was a whisper in the shadows that Sairan dwelled, watching the holographic mon'keigh below him. The Exarch was a ghost in the projected shadows, created by the training halls of his shrine to help sate the desires of a servant of Khaine. Yet when war was near, simulation was little substitute for the truth. His students knew little of this lust, they were not lost. He knew not where they were in the craftworld, following their lives as they saw fit. Nor did he care. If they needed to train, they would seek him out. Until that point, he would wait. The target wasn't here yet. So the strike wouldn't fall.
"I seek the one in charge of this shrine," a figure appeared on the doors leading into the shrine of the Shadowed Blade. He was tall for an Eldar, his ashen hair falling freely from his shoulders. Dressed in nothing but the normal craftworld robes, the newcomer had a look in his eyes of a man who had nothing to lose. "I wish to walk the path of the Striking Scorpion and I believe this is the place for it?"
< @Colapse > Sairan growled as he heard a voice echo from the entrance to his shrine. He was on the hunt, the prey was near. But such was his path, to train those who wish to follow this path. With a dismissive thought, the halls were once again their normal, blank slate. He turned and strode to the doors that led to the outside, willing them open with a single thought. The eyes of the war-mask looked over the one whom had spoken, the one who wished to become a student. The whisper of war came on the wind once again. "So it is." Sairan said, his tone dark and serious. "Enter." he said simply, turning and leading the newcomer to where such equipment was stored if he followed.
~~ Craftworld Star Lounge 'Emerald Sword' ~~ Anduthir was leaning back on his over-comfortable chair, just starring out in the void. He was dressed in civilian clothes, just a bodyglove with small metallic-green pauldrons to reinforce his shoulders, making him appear more masculine. His Aspect Armor was resting at the shrine, just like all of his gear, as it is supposed to. Instead of training this cycle - at least so far - he enjoyed a light alcohol-free beverage. Despite dressing like a man and being a man in age, he much acted still as the boy he was basically a century ago even his face betrayed his agenda. Beige-Brown eyes which gleamed in naive curiosity and overall joy, not the face of a battle-scarred warrior which he aspired to be. A soft sigh left his lips as his drink was almost emptied, leaving just a bit less than an ounce in there. Within his family, a sign that he was satisfied and wished no refill, as it would be greedy to empty it all. Gazing into the void that surrounded the Craftworld of the Swordwind as if to find answers to questions he didn't even had.
< @Uriel1339 > "Hey! Why so down, Andi!?" A familiar, jovial voice would come from the door to the lounge, a rather tall Eldar striding towards the table that his friend sat at. He had silver hair down to the bottom of his neck and blazing red eyes. He wore flowing robes, blue trimmed with gold, and he sat down across from the Craftworlder. "Could I get something strong over here?" He flagged down one of the nearby Eldar on the path of service before looking over at his young friend. Xash, leader of the small Corsair band Trigun smiled. "So, Andi. Whatcha been up to?"
"Grand X back on Biel-tan, mh?" He didn't even turn to the Corsair, but smiled as his eyes remained on the stars in the distance. "Not much. Training as a Striking Scorpion as you know. But I did not expect you until a few cycles, I assume then you had good sailing out there in the void?" Now Andurith turned his head to his old friend, it was always good to catch up with someone who wasn't much around, or well better put irregularly around. Not to forget each trip was very dangerous for a small crew like Xash's, but then again the Aspect Warrior knew that the taller of the two can watch himself, and his crew, quite well. The prior question was more rhetoric, as Andurith's face turned a tad more serious before he fired the next one, however his voice and remaining grin indicated something serious masqueraded as a joke - showing his curiosity of a Gyrinx and desire to not hear anything too serious, he may be an Aspect Warrior, but he has not seen yet true combat. "What news does thy corsairness bring?"
~~Grotto of the Echoing Light~~ As Sarin brooded deep in his holographic Shrine, caught in his endless thoughts of death and murder, Ladornarr sat under the boughs of a tree with his eyes half-closed thinking of peaceful moments and graceful music. He had come to visit an old haunting place of his time on the Path of the Musician, the grounds of the tranquil forest named the 'Grotto of the Echoing Light', where the newer Eldar on the Path of the Musician came to practice their arts. He let the sounds wash over him, and his keen ears picked out the strands of sound each of the players crafted. He had collaborated with a few of them when he was on their Path so he could easily recognise their styles and their quirks, but now he only listened to their craft. The elegant rise and fall of each of the different tones that their instruments made merged with, and played upon, the sounds of the artificial winds flowing through the trees to let their intense and passionate refrain echo through the grotto and Ladornarr's soul. The were practicing a piece that he hadn't heard before. It was a new piece made especially for an upcoming concert dedicated to Isha, that Ladornarr had been told would be breathtaking, and the occasional missed note showed the infancy of this piece. But rather than disrupting their work the musicians would embrace this and travel on new and strange musical tangents, expressing and learning about themselves and the possibilities that the music provide, until they seamlessly travelled back to the original piece. He let the peace of the moment embrace him; its gentle pulse soothed any thoughts that came to mind. The calm that those around him, and the Craftworld, created allowed Ladornarr to lose himself in the music and the moment, oblivious to the war that Sairan knew was coming.
Standing in the presence of an Exarch made Valerian's stomach turn a bit, as if only now understanding what kind of a path this was. Yes, he did walk the path of the Warrior before and despite his memories helping him remember it as if it was yesterday, still it became obvious that his focus wasn't on that for so many years now and it was left dormant within the deepest reaches of his soul, only now coming back to life. It was an ugly feeling but one he could not deny he in a way wanted to feel, not to feed his primal senses but to simply get what he came here for. A revelation and a release. Grunting, he followed the Exarch into the shrine and towards where he was leading him. "Are we alone here?" he asked, not seeing any other Eldar around which actually surprised him a bit.
Linaya Talathriel, sometime aspiring Striking Scorpion and student of the ways of Khaine found her focus and slipped out of the trance into a semi-wakeful state. She allowed her being to centre back in the physical, attending to the sensations of her body - its breathing, its slow slowing pulse, the slight dryness of her throat. Flat cakes and honey-water lay ready on a small dish next to her meditation-mat ready to help ground her once more. Stretching, she reached for the fluted tumbler and took a sip. The subject of Khaine in his aspect of patient hunter was a difficult one for her to grasp precisely. She understood well the nature of Father Kurnous and his tracking, hunting and killing of prey. But Khaine's nature eluded her more easily. What was the difference between hunting for food and hunting to make war? She supposed that might be it - but her mind kept drifting to the scene around Khaine, filling in the details of a forest glade rather than a killing ground. Linaya frowned, but sipped at the hydromel again and took a bite of one of the spiced cakes. She had made a little progress, but clearly there was no sense in blundgeoning herself into more. It would be fruitless and she needed to move. Exiting the meditation-chamber into the main body of the Shrine, she looked around the sombre concourse for any others of her squad or Temple who might like to spar.
Ariskia Celarena was at her home, her little place of tranquillity, where she normally was whenever she didn't have anything pressing to do like training at the shrine, seeing Taeris whenever she wasn't completely engrossed in a good book or had other things to do. While she'd admit that she perhaps did needed to do a bit more training so that she wasn't going to make any mistakes if called upon.... She was likewise loath to think about nature of the Path she now walked. Not wishing to let her thoughts linger too long on that subject, she settled down in her quite comfortable chair from her years spent in that same seat, reading nearly everything she could get her hands on. She was quite unaware of anything that might be brewing on the Craftworld. The current reading material that the would-be Striking Scorpion had was one of her more treasured books that she'd gotten when she was 64 about Kurnous, Isha and all the other gods and their stories.
