Character: Ilidarian Aetharius Class: Farseer Player: Mechaius Faction: -Eldar Sub-Faction: - Mymeara Traits: 1) Path of the Seer -Wholly devoted to the study and enhancement of his psychic powers, he has long since become lost along the Path, never to stray from it's contemplative avenues. Thanks to his studies, his psychic powers are formidable. 2) Fateweaver - Though his psychic powers are great, his most potent ability lies with deciphering the portents of the Seer Runes. His precognitive abilities have allowed him to steer the Craftworld of Mymeara away from many disasters. 3) Eye on Distant Events - Due to his keen sense of prediction, Ilidarian can provide the Autarchs and Exarchs with the probable plans and strategies that the enemy will utilize. This allows the Autarchs to lead their forces on stealthy insertions and always stay several steps ahead of their enemy. 4) Fates Messenger - As he is always scouring the portents, should the skein reveal impending disaster, Ilidarian will reach out to the Autarchs and Exarchs, warning them to withdraw their forces. Flaws: 1) Thought Before Action - So consumed with the many and uncountable threads of fate is Ilidarian, that he can be slow to action, always consulting the Runes and portents before making any decision. He always advises caution, firmly of the mind that Mymeara should avoid conflict at all costs and stay out of the machinations of the other Craftworlds. This has brought him into conflict with Mymeara's Autarchs, and even the other Farseers, on several occasions. They view him as too passive and unwilling to actively remove threats to the Craftworld. He insists that as Farseers, they should only ever strive to steer the Craftworld safely away from strife. 2) Hubris of the Eldar - As with many Eldar, he looks down at the younger and lesser races of the galaxy. At times, he even will regard the Exarchs and Autarchs as foolish warmongers intent on driving the Craftworld to ruin, all for their own foolish glory. 3) Trapped Between Two Worlds - Ilidarian suffers, as many Farseers due, from the constant pull of the skein, causing his attention to constantly shift between the two. Due to this, he always comes off as distracted and can be difficult to speak or reason with in person. He tends to ramble on to himself at times or reply to queries with incomprehensibly cryptic responses. Many think he is no longer sane. Sub-Faction Trait: Teachings of Irillyth - The Pheonix Lord of the Shadow Spectres taught the Craftworlders of Mymeara the perfect use of combining Stealth, Speed and Firepower, making them one of the most dangerous Craftworld there is, as they can strike faster and stronger than any other, no matter which Aspect Shrine an Eldar of Mymeara belongs to, these teachings are always coming first as they ensure their survival. Equipment: Rune Armour Cloak of Shadows Psychestone Spirit Stone Runes: Rune of Deception Rune of Evasion Rune of Reaping Rune of Warding Rune of Witnessing Rune of the Spider Rune of the Warp Weapons: Witch Staff Pistol of the Doomseer
@Mechaius 1st trait is free.... but you can have 3 traits, 4 flaws... Just saying that you would be rather the other way around.... 4 traits, 3 flaws ^^ @Nate... YAY! @All: MISSION STARTS in.... 3..... *ITS THE FINAL COUNTDOWN* (this also means no new players until next mission, I think we anyway have enough Also keep in mind to keep OOC posts in the OOC thread... here: http://forum.eternalcrusade.com/threads/ooc-thread-tides-of-destiny.5849/
Mission #1 - Rise of the Warhost - Craftworld Mymeara Players: Warmaster Nate - Autarch Mechaius - Farseer Alldoom - Spiritseer Bulrin - Warlock (no char sheet yet) De'Tortor - Shadow Spectre Exarch AragonShadslayer - Banshee Exarch Akragth - Warp Spider Exarch Deran Vendar - Dark Reaper Exarch Cousintp - Striking Scorpion Exarch Full Army: Leadership (Players): Leader - Autarch Selhiat Etherghymn (Sel) Second in Command - Farseer Ilidarian Aetharius Seer Council (Under Farseer Ilidarian): - Farseer Ilidarian Aetharius - Spiritseer Larese Faress - 3 Warlocks (1 of them PC - Bulrin's Warlock ; 2 NPCs) Aspect Shrines (Players): The Foreboding Doom - Howling Banshees: Exarch Maiev + 9 Aspect Warriors Warp Spiders: Exarch Arkash + 4 Aspect Warriors Mist Spectres - Dark Reapers: Exarch Fadren + 4 Aspect Warriors Striking Scorpions: Exarch Korlynth + 6 Aspect Warriors Shadow Spectres #1: Exarch Siel + 9 Aspect Warriors (no number was said on char sheet, but I decided so) NPCs: Warlock #2: Paramev - Very calm, rarely talks except it is very important, favors Farseer Ilidarian Aetherius over Larese Faress Warlock #3: Yulieth - Sister of Paramev, talks more than regular Warlocks, favors Spiritseer Larese over Ilidarian Shadow Sepctre Shrine #2 - Moon Eclipse Exarch Simius + 6 Aspect Warriors Fire Dragon Shrine - Infernal Warriors Exarch Pyrus + 4 Aspect Warriors Dire Avenger Shrine - Shining Moon Exarch Tymus + 8 Aspect Warriors Pathfinder #1: Brillyen - Has left Mymeara for a long time, returned on the call of the Rise of the Warhost Pathfinder #2: Obvienne - So old that nobody really knows her anymore, many are not even sure if she is from Mymeara as she claims, but her experience and skills are required for the Warhosts rise. Mission Briefing / Background: The Warhost of Mymeara finally recovered enough to strike the Imperium once again, their old arch-nemesis. With them being busy on Armageddon and Cadia, a focused attack like a surgery cut would not able to fail. It was foreseen that an old battle would fail and indeed it happened. The Imperium succeeded in defense, but at immense costs. It had been according to Ranger reports, who kept the world in observation, that a recent attempt of the followers of Chaos to claim the world in the name of their gods had failed. But the goal was obvious to the Seer Council of Mymeara... One ancient weapon. The Sister Weapon to 'The Spear of Sunlight' known as 'The Lance of Moonlight'. The Mon'keigh called the world 'Vizius IV' not knowing that they built the world upon an old Maiden World of the Eldar and therefor providing a Webway, deep hidden in a cave network which was never visited by the Humans as it was too well hidden. On the downside, it did not allow vehicle deployment, neither would it bring them straight into the heart of the enemy, which would be the main problem to get into the target zone. Nonetheless it was certain that in the catacombs of the capital would the Lance be found, alas so the ancient tombs and the seers say. The designated Warhost just had made their way through the webway, having arrived at daylight they made an encampment within the cave network to forge a final plan before they would move into action.
Fadren sat amongst his current students within their own secluded area of the ruined Eldar city the webway had brought them to. Each one mired in quiet self reflection with their heads bowed and weapons held firmly at their sides. Being fairly new to the role of Exarch the man spent much time seeking council with the memories of past Aspect warriors....no they were his memories now, they hadn't fully seeped into his conscious yet but steadily day by day they extended further influence over him and he felt himself take on the proper name of Arten; the first of their Shrine. A sigh drew his attention toward his eldest student Ereth. "Patience. The moment our Scouts return we shall be preparing to strike. " "The Mon'keighs presence on this world is an insult to all who once lived here. " The other three of his students remained quiet, shutting out the world and focusing their efforts inward. They all felt the same way but Ereth was particularly passionate in his hatred and only years upon years of training and the influence of those who came before him kept Fadren from agreeing openly. "Return to your thoughts, nurture your hatred into the keen edged blade that you may unleash perfect devastation when it may be unsheathed. " Ereth fell silent and Fadren returned to his meditation.
Farese sat in an old crumbling tower, holding a conversation with eldar souls trapped in the soul stones he always carried with him. Eventually he heard the call to come together to discuss the war plans with the rest of the leadership. Finding his way down, he walked to the ruined hall which had been agreed upon to be the meeting point.
Finding an empty chamber, Korlynth leads his scorpions through their sword forms. The light exercise helped to keep their minds focused on the coming mission. When the call came to attend the final planning session, he signaled Ashera to take lead. Walking through the catacombs to the meeting place, Korlynth melts into the shadows. He preferred to practice his stealth as much as possible, to assure that his skills remain in peak condition.
As the Shadow Specters of the Grave Walkers emerged from the webway into the murky catacombs of the lost world, Siel felt the wash of the material plane over him. Cold wet air filling his lungs, a welcomed break from the still, sterile air of the Craftworld. Here the Imperial's had settled the grave world, renaming it Vizius IV in ignorance of a past beyond their understanding. Beneath his bladed helm, the Exarch grinned in silence, soon the hunt would begin, the ignorant naves of this world would fall before the host. Slaves the lot of them, shackled already to their rigid dogmatism. Siel had to steel himself, such thoughts were from another life. His mission here was for the Craftworld, the cold hunger must be swept below the necessity of focus. The Scouts would return soon, then his men could begin their grim work, and though he would try to push away such thoughts, Siel longed for the fury of battle. For now he distanced himself from his men, moving his focus to the simplicity of weapon care. His rifle had been cleaned and re-cleaned before they had set foot upon this land, but to him it was the only true form of meditation in which he could muster, losing himself to battles fought long ago.
-Before gathering the Warhost- The Foreboding Doom had been called and the members of the shrine where well on their way. Maiev stood next to many bone colored suits of armor, a knife in one hand, and a bowl in the other. The Warhost had been called, and she intended to make her shrine ready. Lagorhel was first to arrive. She took a seat in front of her Exarch; no words where exchanged. Uiriel arrived next. She sat down beside Lagorhel, once again, nothing was uttered. Arthiel then arrived, then Garthien, Laegneth, Haeneth, Berendes, Othiel, and then finally, Delossel. Once the warriors had arrived and taken their places, Maiev stepped forward and spoke. "Mymeara has called. A warhost is to be gathered. The Seer Council believes The Lance of Moonlight to be on the world the Mon'Keigh call, Vizius IV." There were whispers between the members of the shrine at the news, but after a moment the whispers died down to silence once again. "There is a webway in a network of caves below the planet's surface," Maiev continued. "That is how we will enter." Maiev paused to examine each of her warriors. They all seemed to understand. Maiev then approached each of the warriors, starting with Arthiel. Maiev placed the blade Arthiel's palm, and made a small cut in the flesh, allowing the blood to pour into the bowl. Maiev then moved on to Lagorhel, doing the same, allowing the blood to mix within the bowl. Maiev continued, doing the same motions with each warrior until the blood of each member of the shrine had been spilled into the bowl. Maiev then proceeded to the next step to bring up the war-masks of the members of The Foreboding Doom. The knife was sheathed and Maiev dipped her fingers in the warm liquid and started with Arthiel. She drew the rune of the Banshee upon her forehead. Maiev then began the chant to summon the war-masks. "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" Once the rune had been drawn upon Arthiel's brow, Maiev moved to draw the rune on Lagorhel's forehead. Arthiel then added her voice to the chant as her war-mask pushed all her doubts and fears away. Her voice full of strength and confidence. "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" The rune was drawn upon Lagorhel. Lagorhel followed en suite adding her voice as well. Her voice was quite and at first but grew louder as her war-mask eliminated all fear. "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" Maiev continued, until she came upon the final member of the shrine, and also the newest; Haeneth. Haeneth had yet to shed blood in battle. When Maiev's finger made contact with Haeneth's brow, a small sharp breath escaped her lips. She seemed to gain strength and confidence as her war-mask consumed her. Her voice joined the chorus as a harmony was created between the voices of the ten Banshees. "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" "Blood Runs. Anger Rises. Death Wakes. War Calls!" Each of the warriors then stood up as they approached their suits of armor. They stripped themselves of all garments and set their waystone to the side. Maiev began the ritual of which her warriors began to equip their armor. The warriors remove their garments and set their waystones to the side. Maiev continued her chant as the Banshees began equipping their armor, piece by piece. Once they had donned their armor the placed their waystones in the armor of where they would rest for the rest of the battle. ... -Present- Maiev led her Banshees to the area of which was designated for them to meet. She moved to a corner within the area, and remained silent till the others had arrived. Her Banshees were silent as they assembled behind her. The Foreboding Doom examined each Exarch and their shrine within the room, and waited for the rest to arrive.
Ruins of Alesh'Ynnead - Webway Assembly His footsteps were careful and solemn. Each footfall as silent as could be mustered, for he did not wish to disturb the eternal rest of so many forgotten souls. This city, though a ruin, was still alive with power. The very air was heavy with the echos of past lives. Millions had once called this city home, refugees of the decadence that had brought their people to ruin. Here they had carved a place to lay their honoured dead to rest, for beneath this supposed ruin, slumbered an Infinity Circuit. Even now, as he strode across the city's empty central plaza, past the crumbling statuary and forgotten gardens, he could feel the faint thrum of it's power. Too quiet to ever attract the attention of She Who Thirsts, or even the ignorant masses of the Mon Keigh that thrived in their cities above. His warp sight could see the faint shimmers of their spectral images, as they wandered their city, oblivious to the ruinous state that their home was now in. How he loathed the desecration of this maiden world. How he cursed the hubris of their race and the folly they had allowed to take root. It was wasted effort however. No one and nothing could change what was, only what could be. The Eldar race was in it's twilight. They could only look forwards now, not back. Hindsight was a luxury that one could not afford to dwell upon. Ilidarian sighed. In his heart of hearts, he still felt coming here was a mistake and a fools errand. However, even he could not deny the potential that this venture had. To stand even a fools chance of recovering that which was thought lost for eternity . . .was without any shadow of a doubt, the first glimmer of hope that he had experienced in centuries. The Spear of Moonlight, twin sister to the fabled weapon of great Irillyth himself. An artifact so shrouded in mystery and fable as to seem more of a myth, than a fact. Alas, here they were, intent on it's recovery. All things considered, there was no place he would rather find himself, as much as he hated being away from the Craftworld. Bel-Annath had willed that he accompany the Warhost, so that he could temper the eager soul of Selhiat Etherghymn. The Autarch was a skilled tactician, formerly of the Biel-Tan Craftworld, and carried over the zeal of his former home. He had adapted to the ways of Mymeara and the teachings of Irillyth, but a fire still burned within him. One that could consume Mymeara, if not properly tended. Ilidarian would keep a close eye on the Autarch, for the Skein had marked him. He was nexus of possibility. A portent of great fortune and irrecoverable ruin. As to which would transpire here? Only fate knew for sure. On this world, the web of fate was shrouded, it's line ever changing and near impossible to decipher. It foreshadowed only one thing: on this world, the future of Mymeara would be decided. All threads had led to this moment. From this point on, all of their fates would be unclear and their own to decided. Never, in all of his life, had Ilidarian been so afraid. 'Farseer?' came a quiet, questioning voice from behind him. He turned to face the owner. It was only Paramev. He stood at a respectful distance, having approached as quietly as possible, as to not disturb his thoughts. He fiddled with the hilt of his Witch Blade, as it rested in it's sheath at his side. A sign that he was uneasy, as many were in such a hallowed place. 'I heed you, Paramev. As the shadows heed every word' Ilidarian replied, as he retraced his steps through the dust of ages that had settled over the city. 'Forgive me, If I have disturb your meditations, Farseer.' Paramev began, bowing his head in apology. 'No, my thoughts were not disturbed. At least not by you' He assured, cocking his head as if he had heard a faint whisper. 'Very well. I must inform you that the Autarch has summoned the council. The Warhost must make ready to march, and the wisdom of the Seer Council is required' Paramev declared, as he reigned in his unease at being so close to the Farseer. Already, he could feel the skein envelope him, as Ilidarian traced out several of his possible futures, as he was want to do purely out of old habit. 'If the Autarch wills my council, he shall have it. Even if he will not heed it' Ilidarian proclaimed, as he moved to follow Paramev, to wherever the Autarch had made his headquarters.
The Reapers found their meditation interrupted by approaching visitors and they all rose as one and stood to face the oncoming foot steps, legs braced and weapons angled toward the ceiling in their usual stance on the battle field. He had trained them well, to always be ready and to adopt their stance when even the slightest chance of danger was present. A slight smile formed on the Exarch's face as Pyrus, Exarch of the Infernal Warriors greeted him. "The Autarch has called a gathering, figured you had missed it. Never terribly attentive are you?" The fire Dragon spoke warmly as he jabbed at Fadren, his Fire Dragons seemed shaken finding the Dark Reapers apparently ready to fire but the brief tension grew calm as they stood down and filed in. "Attentive enough to keep you and yours from being torn apart in the thick of things eh? " He chuckled quietly yet in the dead halls the sound seemed much louder. "Let us go then, lead the way." "As we always do yes? We'll grab Siel while we are at it." Their easy grins faded mentioning their dark kin but it was of little concern of them, he hadn't made a problem of himself in previous engagements and was by all means a respectable fighter. Moving closer toward the Webway assembly the gathered Aspect warriors approached the Grave Walkers. "The Warhost is gathering, send word to your Exarch. " Without further exchange they went on their way to join the Council.
