OCC: Please stop... I might not understand what you guys are talking about, but im sure the only reason there is specific sexual orientation is the same reason why the general society of hive worlds is like the Midevil times, but Women with power. "Why offend a certain group of people, when we can leave them in the dark, and charge them more money " -Geedubz
[OOC We'd moved on from GW's lack of information to silly Pirate jokes that's all, no hidden meaning there ... and I'm about to make use of the fact that I'm still awake at 3am to GM some more ... ]
Iadanna Iktomi strode through the portside districts of Craftworld Lugganath. Just now, life was good. He was on a mission - or perhaps just a shopping trip, for now, and his Corsair's confident demeanour and touch of the exotic was proving popular on the Pirate Craftworld. Not least among certain of the ladies. More than one admiring glance was thrown his way and most Eldar he met seemed quite willing for him to be there. A far cry from some of the more regimented worlds, such as strict Alaitoc and straight-laced Ulthwe. Elsewhere, really only on Iyanden were Pirates viewed with a little more acceptance than most, but the melancholic friendship of necromancers is not something everyone desires. Craftworlds are large, however, and there is usually room for a certain amount of Outcasts and others, those who might otherwise disturb the population of respectable Eldar. After all, most Seer Councils will draw information from many sources, including Rangers, and such people have to stay somewhere. Iktomi knew this. He was a veteran traveller. But he was looking for something ... more. Even on Lugganath, sometime home to the Sunblitz Brotherhood, there are places where the shadier deals can be conducted, supplies traded that are not - precisely acceptable within Craftworld society, even one as Corsair-friendly as this. He quickly found his way to just such a place, an impromptu market located within one of the smaller domes at the edge of the docks. Trade in all kinds of goods thrived here, from furs to rare minerals and elaborate and ancient technology from unknown races. And if some of those races were now unknown due to the predations of certain of the Corsair factions, well, that was life in a hostile Universe. An Eldar looking for chemical enhancements of a suitably pure nature could find them here, along with less reputable items, though the petite blonde crystal-seller in question would have been most offended by that suggestion. She looked at Iktomi with the eye of a practiced trader. The other was covered by a small optical with the lens of a jeweller's loupe, the better to assay her wares and anything she was offered. Business was good, judging by the expensive spidersilk tunic she wore over tough leather trousers and armoured boots like a tabard. No Corsair colours, just a bright, irridescent metal housing for her waystone and all the metal fittings of her gear, an alloy, if Iktomi was any judge of such things, so rare it was found only in the heart of one destroyed planet in an isolated star system. "Orbo," she said, with a distinct lack of accent. "You don't strike me as an orbo man, I'd have said you were someone with a taste for Mistlight ... maybe even Heavenspire." She grinned. Was that a wink? Hard to tell with the optical. "We have green, of course, and a little blue, but that's extra."
OOC:I apologize guys if i hit something that....i wasnt suppose to with the question i asked.Its just that i know in Imperial society (colorful as it is) any sexual orientation was tolerated and a quick internet search concerning my puzzlement yielded...conflicting and questionable results...thank you 1d4chan!Thank you...you scarred me for life. At least i know something now OOC:That was bad!And you should feel bad!I was going to RP with that Craftworld as my heritage! >:| The Pale Warlock liked this Craftworld more and more with every moment it allowed for him to be on it.It wasnt reeking with potent psyhic power and ancient Eldar devices that should have been long forgottenNo...thats the atmosphere of Iybraesil,churrning and changing never-satisfied on its endless quest. Lugganath was balanced,despite its divergence and colorfulness of its culture.Almost tranquil,the quiet psyhic resonance rang smoothly in Morvans mind.No luring of power beyond his imagining and promises of the Eldar Empire reborn. Here...he felt at peace. As he reached the agreed upon destination,Iybraesil Warlock could feel beneath his feet,potent energy in motion.As it flowed,as if synchronized with the beat of his own hearth.He wondered what it could be,but then again as its psyhic residue washed over his body,he stopped wondering.Morvan closed his eyes and could hear,very faintly,silent whispers in the air.He knew this energy has touched the gestalt of the Matrix,as the wisdom of the anicents guided it and the living calibrated it. He looked around,finding himself on a plaza,green parches here and there,framed by crystal-white metal.The plaza ended as the infinity of the void began,docks,skirting its edges protected only by the Craftworlds shields. Three ships were stations there,one was being repaired,its damage,moderate.Morvan felt the anticipation that was being emitted from his Witchblade on his back,but he steeled his resolved,quieting it down.Recently he channeled too much of his own power through it,and the sight of the void,sent it reeling for adventure as if he had an Outcast sheeted on his back and not a blade. Chiming of strange melodies filled the air as the Bonesingers repaired one of the ships,from their antler-shaped flutes,white mist formed as the wraithbone materialized.The music was beautiful,the very song of creation wrought by the will of the Eldarkin.No finer technology existed in the universe...tho he wouldnt call it strictly...technology.It was more of an art then a exactness of science.For one had to have imagination to repair the myraid damages brought upon the Creation.One had to have compassion to mend the wound.Morvan thought how the Path of a Bonesinger and of a Healer are alike.Its only difference is that one deals with wraithbone,while other does so with flesh. Pale Warlock wished he could remain on this very spot for a little while longer,enjoy everything that was around him.Soft luminescence from a distant star,perishing the blackness of the void around it in a stark blue color,gently shined in the impossible distance.Warlock wondered what it would be like to feel its warmth upon his skin,but Craftworld was simply too far away. His helmet still thudded beneath his right arm,Morvan enjoyed the soft breeze that was being generated by the Craftworld as he spoted an uncanny,overly decorated Corsair ship.Several of the Corsairs,working with lugganathi dock workers,seemingly fitting the ship with strange and exotic technology.One of them stood out,a Corsair Eldar,her armor purple and black,too young to be a matriarch.Morvan could have sworn that the Crone Goddess guided him here,for the woman seemed familiar to him,and unconsciously his free arm went to the multi-colored soulstone around his neck. Morvan decided to observe as the Eldar repaired,outfitted or unloaded their ships,his gaze unwillingly sometimes escaping to the beautiful and wild sight of the Corsair woman.Her every motion was free and nonchalant,emotion ran through her like a fire of the ancients does through a Fire Dragon.She wasnt savage by any account,a dosage of disciple and harsh upbringing emitted from time to time from her,her aura sending colors reflecting those of her armor.The most surprising of all...she seemed to be a gentle soul deep down,despite her looks and harsh manner.Soft colors appeared beneath the surface of her aura,but vanishing in an instant as if hidden on purpose or simply for not being familiar with them.Morvan blinked dispersing his Witchsight. The tranquility of the place was broken by one sound out of synch.A small yet annoying ticking sound appeared right next to him.Morvan turned in curiosity and saw that from a small strut of wraithbone a tiny warp spider appeared.Pale,reflecting the color of the wraithbone around it,the spider moved around the strut,as if trying to get a better view. Morvan realized that he was blocking the creatures line of sight,so he moved to the left,letting the creature sate its curiosity. The spider probably drawn by the convergence of the Bonesingers,their wraithbone shaping,luring the Webway-born.Most of the Webway creatures became capricious over time or by violent intrussions in the Dimension.Sometimes entire parts of the Webway were either sealed or due to emergency collapsed,getting many of the Webway-born killed.It were these small massacres that the Eldarkin were commiting in the name of survival,even tho the creatures of the Webway could materialize and dematerialize on will.Existence was something they either could or didnt comprehend,or maybe they dont need to. Warlock was weary of such creatures,yet his compassion for all living things triumphed as it usually does. He could feel the warp spider,so cute in his motions despite the arachnid repulsiveness that one might feel,its slik form stood silently and watched the docks,and sometimes the Warlock itself.Morvan could feel his psy-probing as the creature inspected the Empyrean around it.The pale Warlock felt tickling in the back of his head,as the creature found something interesting.Jain opened his mind,dangerous as it could be,and slowly and gently tried to communicate with the creature.To telepathically communicate with it,as one might communicate with a fellow Eldar might blow the spiders mind due to the very surge of invader`s will and psy-potency. Hello little one.I apologize for blocking your sight.What brings you here?-Morvan telepathicly beamed.He knew the creature was not par on par with a Gyrinx...far from it...but it could express one form of an emotion thought the psy-link,leading to an answer,or at least close to it.
"They all look different. So very, very different." Krocell said with a whisper, his eyes gleaming with martial respect as he admired the might statue of Khaine. "It is so rare to see one which depicts. Highest chances of finding one in a position like that are in Striking Scorpi-" He cut his speech when he heard a sound. A figure detached from the statue's shadow, moving without a sound. It didn't even take a glance to know who or what it was; the Exarch of the Shrine. Deliberately revealing yourself like that, he had to admit, he was slightly impressed by the Exarch's now silent movement, showing off, eh? The Exarch, a she Krocell noted quickly, circled around him. Evaluating him? Judging? Searching for a threat? Most likely all thee at the same time. She stood straight and removed her helmet, giving them a view of her face. Pale, slightly scarred, amber eyes. A royal sounding voice was directed at Avrielle, suggesting her to leave. Krocell gave a nod, acknowledging the technician's touch. "Respected Exarch, Faithful of Khaine, I come to beg your permission; I wish to armour myself within the sacred halls of your Shrine. I wish to arm myself within the halls of those who walk the same path as I. To wake the Scorpion within from his slumber will one of my tasks be." Speaking with respect in his voice, Krocell raised the sack he had been carrying, "It is in this that I carry the armour and weaponry of my shrine." He laid the sack on the floor. Standing straight with his hands behind his back, the Scorpion watched the Exarch, silently waiting an answer.
[OOC You didn't hit anything you weren't supposed to the only problem is that GW haven't given me an answer so I can't give you one. 1d4chan has the odd funny part but is pretty unpleasant, most of its "Eldar stories" are just recolours of porn with pointy ears strapped on, pun intended. I would not and do not take anything from there as canon. Not to worry, you asked a legitimate question and I'm sorry I don't have any answer apart from "we have het, the rest we have no word on at all, so your guess is as good as mine - but the real issue is excess, which we know will get you devoured by Slaanesh" ]
The warp spider was a curious little thing, watching its surroundings alertly. Nothing seemed to escape its attention: the ships, the plaza, the workers, the Pirate woman, the pale Warlock himself. And when it felt the psychic touch of the mighty mind beside it, it stopped. Sitting still upon the cream-coloured wraithbone it so closely resembled, the warp spider turned its tiny compound eyes on the Iybraesilite. Strangely, it seemed to have only two, black and beady like obsidian jewels. It raised a tiny foreleg, and Morvan felt - something. sense of wonder at huge one feeling mind powerful is The tiny mind was not sharp enough to communicate in words, as Warlock Jain had guessed, but it could render feelings accurately. Perhaps a consequence of its journey within the very wraithbone core itself? He gently probed the alien consciousness. What brings you here? sense of tasting air, tasting souls for things that should not come feeling of open space desire to see what is and what is not knowing that brothers and sisters will come in crystal-flood if danger is The little creature lowered its leg and scooted a bit closer, reaching out two forelimbs as if it wanted to climb onto his hand. Why did it simply not materialise there? Perhaps it was too respectful of a powerful Seer.
