“The Craftworld has grown…uncertain of the state of affairs here.”

Gilgard and Lothfalas stood stock still and silent. It was the only thing they could think to do as the armored figure paced back and forth in front of them, a look of distrustful anger on her face. This was usually regarded as the proper way to interact with Aine, the Radiant Scorpion, Exarch of the Hidden Sting Shrine, and the current bearer of tidings from their Craftwworld.

“It is my understanding that you were given a relatively simple task.” Aine never shouted or raised her voice, her words were soft and Gilgard even had to strain slightly to hear them as she paced around. But the underlying currents of anger burned bright in her, her eyes almost flared as she looked at them. “Protect the Farseer and see to her safe return from the meeting with the mon’keigh. I would think even the Druchii understand the basic concept of what ‘return’ means.”

“We wear our shame like a cowl,” offered Lothfalas, “and have taken all actions within our power to ensure her safe return.”

“Would that we had the luxury of not needing every Eldar breath, or perhaps I would simply execute you both for incompetence.” She said it so softly it took Gilgard a moment to recognize how dire the threat had been. Aine had even paused for a minute in front of him, her seemingly calm pose still ready to lash out and slay him in an instant, but by the time he recognized the danger it was already past, and her pacing continued. “But such is not my prerogative, the Council has sent me here to ensure the success of your mission. I am to accompany you, offer whatever aid is needed, and make sure there are no further entanglements. We cannot trust the Druchii with this matter.”

“I believe they will be vital to the mission nonetheless,” Lothfalas said with a small bow of his head, “their skills at duplicity, infiltration, and double dealings make them uniquely suited to this matter.”

“I suppose…” Aine shrugged her shoulders slightly, “even the Scorpions can respect one skilled in the arts of stealth-“

The door slammed open then as the towering form of Brizelya Maerrett stormed into the room. As was so often the case with her she was already yelling. “Rise Craftworlders! See if your scrawny legs can lift your overly burdened with doubt heads still. My sister is arranging for the distraction we need, and I don’t think the humans are quite exhausted of all the screaming they could accomplish yet!” If she even took note of Aine, or found it disquieting to see the Exarch she gave no sign. She laughed as she slapped Gilgard on the shoulder, almost tossing him off his feet with the force of the blow before she spun on her heel and stormed out again. “My blade! My blade and drink! To war I ride!”

Aine tapped her fingers on her armored hips for a moment before turning to glare at Lothfalas.

“She can be quiet when quiet is needed.”

“For all of our sakes, I hope you are correct. I do not favor our odds of battling all the mon’keigh on this rock.”

=====================================

He had a name at one point, long ago, before the pleasure/pain of the torture/ecstasy had overtaken his mind. He had betrayed for love now, or was it that he had loved to betray? He was not certain. The doors opened to the room, bringing light, bringing the promise of more joy/despair. Thin and lithe figures could be hazily seen, capering about playfully with the newest captives. The new ones never lasted long, certainly not as long as he had. That was his reward/punishment he supposed.

“The mistress has a use for you, playtoy,” offered a voice as sharp as bladed honey. The alabaster skin and flowing fiery purple hair gleamed brightly in front of him, like a burning sculpture brought to life, beautiful, timeless, cold, destructive, such were his captors/lovers.

He was dragged through the halls, witness to such exquisite indulgences that his eyes wept with desire even as he wished he could claw them from his head. Then he was cast down on the floor of the temple. He had met the mistress only once before, back then he had spoken some name, beseeched some distant ruler on a golden throne for help. He couldn’t remember this savior’s name anymore, but he knew that this distant golden power was as nothing compared to her, to Nyx, to the god(dess) before him. She was as delicate as an ivory sculpture, as hard as forged diamonds, a towering giant, or a delicate fey child, all as she willed it. She was desire and she was despair, her voice was as smooth as glass, and could shred like barbed wire, her hands capable of bringing you to the limits of sweet agony until you wept for death even as you strained to feel the excess even more.

Around her, her court danced and played, and blood splashed about the dancer’s feet as it flowed from their playthings.

“The Inquisitor’s agent,” trilled Nyx. Her voice forced him to orgasm, blood leaking from his ears as he staggered to his knees before it that he chose to see as her. “He is intact?”

“In all but mind. But we have all the secrets that bled away.”

“Excellent.” Nyx snapped her fingers, a sharp sound of finality. He looked up at her and she smiled at him, a sensuous look that promised him secrets no one was ever meant to know. “Time to play.”

A figure appeared from the court, a dancer of exacting skill, though his/her/its shape was…amorphous. None could argue that it was beautiful though. He wept to see it, sobbing like a newborn as it approached him, his voice cracked as he whispered. “What are you?”

“What? No. Who.” The figure leaned down towards him, its mirrored face swimming about as it formed a blade in its hand. “You have betrayed your past, Inquisitor, you have given yourself to the pain and the pleasure, and now you need go only a little more, just one final sacrifice of your past self to the mistress.”

“What does she want?”

“Your face.”

His screams lasted for a while, and he only quieted due to his vocal cords breaking from the strain. He lay there in agony, his skin peeled from his body. The shape slid it on, as easily as one might a coat, and smiled as it adjusted itself, eyes that had once been his flaring bright and red in his face that was now its face.

“The Farseer will be yours, Nyx, this I swear!”

A Kill Team Mission.
Sentry rules are in effect (each player dices off for each guard – highest roll gets to move guard up to 4”)
Each guard can detect enemies within 3” of themselves as long as they are not on the other side of a door.
Doors can be hacked to open on a 4+ roll, they may also be attacked to break them open (T6, 1 Wound) Breaking a door will result in a d6 roll, on a 6 the alarm sounds.
There is a central computer control, if it is hacked (4+) the user may, on their turn, either change any doors on the map from either open to closed or vice versa, or may elect to place 1d3 additional doors on the board.

All Imperial units return to the board on a 4+ after dying, entering from a randomly chosen entry point (numbered 1-5, with 6 being the Imperial Player’s choice).
All Imperial units pass through doors without effort and without changing their open/closed status – if the central computer is hacked then Imperial Units treat doors as normal.

Once the alarm sounds Imperial reserves will arrive each turn on a 5+. These will arrive from a randomly chosen entry point as detailed above. They will all arrive as one unit at the single point.
Roll an additional d6 to determine the type of reinforcement;
1- 2 Imperial Guardsmen
2- Imperial Guardsman w. Special Weapon (plasma rifle, flamer, ect.)
3- Commissar (w. plasma pistol and power sword) (on all subsequent results – 2 Imperial Guardsmen)
4- 1 Sargent and 4 Guardsmen
5- Inquisitorial Detachment (4 Imperial Guard Vets, 2 w. Sniper Rifles, 2 w. Bolt Pistol and Power Sword)
6- 1 Inquisitorial Agent (one of my pre-made Inquisitor allies, as featured in other batreps)



Farseer Diyneer is locked in a cell, she works for all intents and purposes as ‘The Relic’ from the mission of the same name. Able to be held by one character and moved around that way. No Imperial unit may affect her in any way.


At Stake
This battle will help shape the final results of the campaign.

If Farseer Diyneer is captured by Chaos, they will extract secrets from her and be able to enact their dark ritual with greater ease or disrupt anyone else attempting to operate the Elendil Thrakul.

If the Eldar alliance rescues her, Diyneer’s softer attitude toward the humans and focus on protecting the Elendil Thrakul from Chaos will come through. Dark Eldar and Eldar forces will be more apt to aid The Imperium with information and soldiers.

If The Inquisition maintains control of her they will have exact info about when and where the ritual would take place, and be able to act accordingly depending on if they hold the Elendil Thrakul.

The Uneasy Cousins (Dark Eldar and Eldar)


Lothfalas – the quiet and insightful Dire Avenger wields his diresword and shuriken pistol with practiced skill. He will face any foe to see Diyneer free.


Gilgard – brash and young, he may let his shuriken catapult do some of the talking, but he still wants to get a few words in.


Lady Aine – The Radiant Scorpion is a heart of fire hidden by a face of ice. A master of close combat, she also has deadly firearms built into her armored battle suit. Even more so, her skills at stealth allow her to halve any guard’s detection radius when attempting to spot her silent movements.


Dracon Kale, Trueborn of Cerulean Storm – Armed with both a Shredder and a Shardcarbine, Kale is a “loyal” member of Brizelya’s retinue, and was brought along to add fire support to the raiding team.


Zak Phae’irr – Klaveskar of the Temple of Obsidian Lethe, Zak is a master duelist with few rivals. Armed with his demi-klaives and heavy Incubi warplate, he is a fearsome foe for any that cross Brizelya, for he has been well paid to protect her, and protect her he shall, unless her payments go into arrears.


Brizelya Maerrett, Secondborn Daughter, The Thunderhead of The Cerulean Storm – Muscular, loud, and as violent as her title suggests, Brizelya would generally as soon kill someone as speak to them and has a reputation of wanton violence…especially in situations that called for subtlety. Though her combat prowess are near unmatched and her speed and aigle use of her hellboard superlative, she is…perhaps not the best choice for a stealth mission. All guards’ detection radius is doubled in sensing Brizelya.


The Skinwearers (Slaanesh hiding inside Inquisitorial Agents)


Daecon Frost – An Inquisitorial Agent who was captured by the forces of Chaos (way back in Chapter 4: The Visitor true believers! ~Continuity Minded Ed.) He is…perhaps not all himself anymore, and that seems to be a daemonically forged Greater Etherblade he is carrying…but, hey, the guards were cold and just waved him and his warband through. What could go wrong?


Klaus ‘The Red Butcher’ Ripthorn – Strong as a bull, and a terror in close combat, Klaus is not very useful at all for shooting. Still, the autopistol is useful for clubbing people in the face in assault, and it makes him happy to hold it.


Silas the Sulk – armed with a Bolter and a needle pistol, Silas also has the uncanny ability to hide in plain sight. He is, functionally, immune to detection by guards if he wishes to be.


Malik – his plasma pistol and custom chainsword are mostly for show, Malik’s true skills lie in hacking, and he can successfully hack on a 2+ roll rather than the usual 4+. He has l33t 5ki11z.


‘Mad’ Harriet - …why do these stealth missions keep involving people not suited for them? Harriets an okay sort, but her custom heavy weapon (Salvo 2/4, AP3, Str 5) has a bit of a drawback, every time it’s fired before the alarm is sounded it will alert the guards on a 5+


Miroir, Senior Calvacade of the 1st Circle, Duchess of Shattered Glass, The Twilight Dancer – What Nyx wants, Nyx gets, and she does like to make sure that things go her way by sometimes sending some extra support. Sure, maybe Deacon is spending a lot of time looking in the mirror, but maybe he isn’t sure that it’s him looking back at himself anymore…

The prison beneath the icy surface of Avitas.


Patrolling guards roam the quiet halls of the prison.


Inquisitorial Troopers stand vigilant watch outside of the cell of the xenos wich.


However, a combined force of Eldar and Dark Eldar are entering the prison, their goal is to rescue her.


Of course…coincidentally a Chaos corrupted Inquisitorial warband has about the same plan in mind.

The Eldar force wins initiative and takes the first move…

Zak and Kale move down one of the hallways, they take a bit of time fuddling with the door lock, but manage to open it up, revealing a patrolling Imperial soldier on the other side.


Aine quickly darts past them, striking with blinding speed as she drops the guard silently.


“This way, Craftworld whelps!”
Brizelya, meanwhile, leads Gilgard and Lothfalas with her down the other corridor.
The Chaos warband moves down the hallway in a clump, nothing exciting…yet


An inquisitive guard decides to patrol in the Eldar’s direction.


Gilgard and Lothfalas rush forward to deal with him as Brizelya flies deeper into the prison.


Aine finds herself wondering why she agreed to lead the Dark Eldar and let Brizelya lead Gilgard and Lothfalas…still, she supposed it was one way to keep an eye on the deceitful creatures.


Hacking open a door, the Chaos warband enters the inner section of the prison.


Plasma and other firepower is launched at a rather dense guard…even with Mad Harriet’s heavy weapon, the guard doesn’t even notice as bullets spark off bulkheads and a plasma burst sears past his head.


“Well…the old fashioned way then?” Offers Malik.
“Ya-ha!” Agrees Harriet, the two of them rush at the guardsmen, beating him down in moments.


“Okay, the best use for my heavy weapon is clearly as a club.”
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Harriet."


Here we can see the Chaos player being so very nice by sending a few more Guardsmen towards the Eldar incursion in the right side of this picture. You can also spot how close Lady Aine and her DE escorts are to the Chaos Warband…fireworks waiting to happen?


Despite the Eldar player’s best intentions, this sentry falls just *slightly* short of spotting Harriet.


However, another guard decides to step through a door right in front of the blood drenched Klaus, the Butcher.
“What the deuce!?!”
“Um…male stripper, it’s your birthday?”


The alarm is raised.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have believed that line either,” Klaus shrugs.


A guard responding to the alarm in the southern quadrant blunders right into the Eldar line, Lady Aine notes her displeasure…via a claw to his face.
“Filthy vermin of the galaxy.”


Gilgard and Lothfalas, Dire Avenger exarchs, guardians of their race and its ancient ways, a race that has conquered the stars, shaped the genetics of the cosmos, and altered the reality of the Warp…are bested by the complicated system known as “a locked door”
“No, try twisting and *then* pushing.”
“I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to pull…no?”


“Hahahaha!” Brizelya sweeps past a guard before shooting him in the back while the klaxon alarms sounded. “Thank the Dark Muses, the time for stealth is over, LET’S KILL EVERYTHING!”


“Welcome to Nyx’s embrace…” Deacon Frost coldly cuts down one of his former allies.


Meanwhile Klaus rips the arms off one guardsman and beats him to death with them while Silas guns down another. Chaos don’t need to sneak around, Chaos just gonna murder everything! (and, yes, the stealth portion of the game lasted about…oh, two turns. Now it’s bloodbath time.)


Malik and Harriet make a dash for the central control computer, figuring if they can get to it they can lock down the facility and help power through an escape.


This Guardsman blazes away with his rifle, but only seems to annoy Klaus.


Malik faces off with one of the guards at the computer.


Meanwhile, Lady Aine and the DE arrive to find Deacon Frost finishing off a Guardsman.
“The mon’keigh…so typical, they grow bored and start killing themselves.


Frost spins around, “ah…the Eldar are here, how pleasurable. I will take great joy in peeling you apart layer by layer.”


“We have conquered the dread ‘door’ now we can try to stop the Chaos agents heading for the computer!”


An overview of the situation.
Guards rush to deal with the Chaos forces in the lower left. Meanwhile Brizelya sweeps in for the goal in the lower right. In the center you can see the two groups moving in for control of the computer.


Brizelya is already almost to the prison room.


All the factions vie for the computer control as well.


Aine fires her claw gun at Frost, but he deflects the shots with his blade, he then grins at her.
“Is that all you have, sad little Exarch?”
“Nah,” Kale steps forward and raises his shredder, “we also have this.”


A blast of deadly monofilimant wire tears down the hall.


Frost is torn to pieces, but climbing out from inside him comes a new, even more horrid foe, a daemon of Slaanesh. Eldar and Dark Eldar alike grip their blades and steel themselves for battle.


Her deadly dance weakens the minds and skills of the Eldar as Miroir springs to the assault.


Klaus grabs the guardsman and head-butts him repeatedly until blood splatters the walls.


“The Imperial Guard, the only way you guys would be more pathetic was if you had a stupid name, like ‘Space Army’ or something.”


Malik cuts apart his foe, though Harriet’s shooting fails to drop the other guard.


“You will not find the Radiant Scorpion so easy to best, foul daemon!”
Aine and Miroir engage in a deadly an dbeautiful duel, each holding their own against the other. Indeed, Aine’s Mandiblasters actually manage to wound the daemon.


A Guardsman fells Silas, and a daemonette springs forth from his body, eager to add to the mayhem.


The ‘Nette and Klaus advance down the hallway, already mere paces from Diyneer.


Another Guardsman rushes to the sound of the alarms, he spots Klaus storming away and fires into his back, felling the Red Butcher (who fails to generate a daemonette…clearly a Khorne guy.)


“Gilgard, things are getting…complicated.” Lothfalas ducks as more guards appear, their lasrifles flaring as they fire upon him.


More lasers snap out, glancing off the fine Incubi warplate. Zak considers the new threats, but finds them wanting.
“Kale, deal wih them, I’ll handle the daemon.”


“Sounds like a good deal to me.” Kale steps back as Zak advances.


“Show me a problem, and I’ll show you something that can be solved by the judicious use of monofilament.” Kale fires his shredder again, claiming two more Guardsmen.


Brizelya impresses everyone by successfully hacking a door.


“Mon’keigh soldiers, and daemon possessed cultists,” noted Lothfalas darkly.
“Yeah, let’s just kill them all,” agreed Gilgard as he leveled his shuriken cannon.


Aine was pinned down by Miroir’s lashing whip swords, but the Incubi, Zak, sprang into the fray without fear. He weaved in and amongst the blades and struck true and hard, felling Miroir and banishing her back to the Warp.


Aine took a break and looked at him carefully for a moment. “My thanks…wretch of the fallen phoenix.”
“You are most welcome, lady,” offered Zak with a polite half bow.


“This is more like it…” Malik hacks into the main computer while Harriet unleashes a wave of firepower down the hall, wounding Lothfalas.


“Oooh…hidden blast doors, that could be useful…”


A door slams shut in front of Gilgard and Lothfalas.
“Doors! Our one weakness!”


“In the Emperor’s Name!”
“Oh, please,” sighed Brizelya, “my father was bored of enslaving planets before your Emperor even managed to claim his first one – how can you expect that thing to impress me?”


Brizelya flies over the mon’keigh, unimpressed by his attempts to halt her progress.


Gilgard and Lothfalas manage to overcome the door, and some creative use of battle focus from Gilgard still sees them both advance towards their foes.


Plasma blasts flit past Zak’s head as he and Aine dismantle more guards.
“This is an amusing distraction,” he notes, “but there seems to be no easy end to their numbers.”
“Agreed, let’s move over to join up with Brizelya.”


Gilgard cuts down the mon’keigh heavy weapon user, only to have a Daemonette spring from her remains. “This is not going well, please tell me you’ve stopped the one hacking the computer!”


“It…is a work in progress,” offered Lothfalas.


Farseer Diyneer had known only darkness, pain, and exhaustion for some time. Now the door to her cell was torn apart by a massive woman wielding a great bladed polearm.
“It makes me sick to think you allowed yourself to be captured by a prey race,” Brizelya snarled, “on your feet, we’re leaving.”


“Come, dance with me!”
The Daemonette sprints down the hallway, focused on stopping the Eldar escape.


The Daemonettes spring to the assault, Gilgard and Lothfalas vow their blades in service to the craftworld as they do battle. Lothfalas cuts down his Nette with precise skill.
“A little help!” Gilgard barely manages to evade death.


Even as the Daemonette makes ready to leap for Brizelya, a gunshot rings out and it drops to the ground. An Inquisitorial soldier stands their, power sword gleaming in the dark tunnel. Now, xenos, it is you and I!”


Imperial Guardsmen rush around the corner, their lasrifles spewing deadly beams. Lothfalas goes down!


“Pah, you are barely worth my time.” Brizelya grabs the Farseer (doubtless in an epic Frazetta style pose) and lays out the Inquisitorial soldier with a casual backhand. “This meal is almost boring.”


Gilgard and the daemonette continue to dance, he unable to land a blow on her, she, meanwhile, scores a telling blow on him, tearing a hole in his side as she giggles playfully, almost in a flirting way as she pirouettes in front of him.


The Imperial Guard, not too shamed to try, charge into the combat as well, the Daemonette finishes off Gilgard moments before the Guardsmen club her into dissolution.


“One of us needs to slow them down, the other two need to aid Brizelya,” states Aine as she hears through her communication crystal that the Farseer is in hand.
“I agree,” says Zak as he readies his klaive, “leave this rabble to me.”
“Are you sure?” She asks. A sergeant bursts througha doorway, wielding his chainsword as he comes at Aine. She casually guts him. “It will not be easy.”
“If life were easy, it would not be worth fighting for.”


A plasma rifle packing trooper sets up at the end of the hall, firing at Brizelya as she approaches.
“Wretch! I am going to insert that in whatever hole is most handy!”


Aine and Kale fight their way into the hallway, battling Guardsmen and Inquisitorial troopers.


Aine breaks away, after cutting down another Guardsman.


Even as the Inquisitorial trooper aims after her, Kale slips out of the shadows and stabs him in the back.
“Shhhh, give in to the pain, it won’t make it easier for you, but will make it more pleasurable for me.”


Brizelya inserts the plasma rifle into the first available hole.


“More things to break!” She then advances down the hall towards the next Guardsman she sees.


An overall look at the scene.
Brizelya and the Farseer are in the bottom right, heading for the exit off the green room.
Aine and Kale are in the lower left room, planning to join up with her and help fight the way out.
Zak is in the hallway where Gilgard and Lothfalas fell, trying to pull away some of the guards to force them to deal with him.
A large remainder of them are positioning themselves in the hallway to block Brizelya’s escape.


More guards respond to the alarm, rushing to stop the furious Brizelya’s rampage.


The plasma gunner does what plasma gunners do…


“This butchery is senseless,” whispered Diyneer weakly.
“I know, isn’t it grand!?!” Brizelya welcomes the battle.


Aine and Kale rush down the hallway, alert for any more guards.


“Take up positions, those filthy xenos won’t get past us!”


Brizelya kills two more guards and (begrudgingly) waits for Aine and Kale to catch up.
Zak, meanwhile, has become surrounded, as Guardsmen pepper him with lasrifle fire.


Brizelya considers the exit path.


A trio of Inquisitorial Troopers armed with power swords leap at Zak together, believing that weight of numbers will fell the deadly Incubus.


Zak finds their opinion of his skills…troubling.


More soldiers rush Brizelya’s position as Aine and Kale finally arrive.
“About time, I was growing bored. Let’s deal with these vermin, and then cleanse the halls.”


Zak continues his slow walk, soldiers fleeing before him, their lasrifles not even a concern.


“It’s a wonder they ever managed to traverse the stars,” notes Kale as he ducks a power sword, “they have no concept of self preservation.”


“Oh, who knows, sometimes when I bother to listen to their mon’keigh babble they are pleading for their lives!” Brizelya attacks.


The last guardsman in Zak’s path holds the fething line for a few seconds more.


Brizelya butchers a Guardsman and pulls Diyneer down a small side nook to avoid most of the return fire.


“We have no time for this,” Aine guts the soldier and motions for Kale to follow her down the hall.


She rushes to Diyneer’s aid, not trusting the Dark Eldar to be alone with her.


“When you kill like that, how much joy can you have in it?” Kale pauses in his gloating as he hears the sound of charging plasma coils behind him. “Oh…frak.”


“Feel the heat of a thousand suns!”
Kale is blasted out of his boots by a plasma round.


Aine is wounded by a wave of firepower being blasted down the hall at her, but she shrugs it off and continues her own assault.


Zak continues to hold the juncture hall, blocking reinforcements and building walls of bodies under his feet as he battles the Imperial defenders.


Aine makes sure that the plasma gunner pays for harming a superior race.


Brizelya makes pointed use of her hit and run skills to slay enemies or slip around them as she battles towards the exit.


“Just one more room, it should be easy now…”


Zak continues slaying, and slaying, and slaying…


Aine holds a line of her own. “Prepare to face the fury of the Radiant Scorpion!”


The exit room is crawling with soldiers. Brizelya roars as she charges in.

Long story short, she butchered the hell out of half the room and waltzed out the exit as though it were an easy Sunday stroll.

Eldar/Dark Eldar Win!

No MVP or WTF awards this time, simply due to the nature of the mission and me being a bit lazy

I think the mission was pretty well balanced, even though Chaos went down hard, fast, and early. Partly it was due to bad rolls on their side, though in retrospect I should have maybe given them a bit higher BS. The lack of shooting capability forced them to get right into the faces of the guards and caused the early alarm situation. Chaos’ other failings were mostly a streak of bad dice.

Jake’s play with my DE…well, slightly resembled his Templar play But at least with Brizelya that was the right move fluffwise. The Eldar’s speed was definitely a factor in this game, as the skyboard and Battle Focus skills really helped them cover ground once the alarm sounded. Zak was also a brick wall, his Incubi warplate and combat skills making no Guard unit able to stop him.

The Guard did…okay. Mostly they suffered due to difficulty getting reinforcements in. I would have killed for a Commissar or an Inquisitorial agent or so, even just a second Sarge with a big pile of troops. I felt like I was trying to kill a horse with a flyswatter – it didn’t go well.

“Farseer…Farseer…” There was a pause, as the voice took a slightly familiar tone, “Diyneer, are you with us?”

Her eyes opened slowly. Her head had been starting to ache all the time. The pale mon’keigh female, the nervous youth with the facial ticks, and the aged male cripple had all been like children to her, but their mental assaults had been near constant, and had denied her rest for…

“What is the date?” She looked up and say Gilgard and Lothfalas kneeling over her. Gilgard bore a look of pure joy on his face, and even Lothfalas’ practiced zen-like expression couldn’t hide the slight glimmer of tears of happiness touching his eyes. Standing behind them were other figures. A towering muscular woman, skin pale and cold, eyes of maddened green. A silent figure in black armor, with a mask like a skull. A lean shape in green and yellow, her claw clicking slightly as she stepped forward.

“It is almost time for the alignment, where is the Elendil Thrakul?” The Scorpion Exarch did not so much as raise her voice, but her tension was as rigid as steel.

“Lady Aine,” Farseer Diyneer nodded her head in greeting as she eased herself up into a sitting position, Gilgard and Lothfalas both quick to aid her. “I am sorry to report to you, but I no longer have possession of the Elendil Thrakul. The mon’keigh took it from me, and from there it was taken from them, I can still feel it in their possession even now.”

“You are a fool twice over.” Aine’s words were cold and sure.

“If she is a fool, you are a dullard,” the towering Dark Eldar female laughed, her hands on her hips as her broad shoulders shook in mirth. “If the mon’keigh have the Thrakul, than we kill the mon’keigh and take it back!”

“You say that as if it will be an easy thing,” noted Aine darkly, bright blue eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Easy? Doubtful. But fun? Definitely!” She snapped her fingers, summoning a cadre of warriors forward with an anti-gravity litter to transport Diyneer to a nearby waiting transport. “But, come, we should retire to the camp and a heated bath with some well-trained pleasure slaves…well I suppose I shall do that and all of you will sit in a room contemplating your navels, or whatever it is you boorish Craftworlders do to relax.”

“Have you looked upon the future milady?” Lothfalas and Gilgard waved off the Dark Eldar and helped Diyneer onto the litter themselves. “Is there still a chance?”

“Of course there is, the paths grow more clouded and jumbled at this moment, but there is still a path of safety if we can manage to walk its tangled threads correctly. You did well to keep with the Druchii, we will need their strength and ferocity in the coming battles.”

“I still don’t trust them,” muttered Gilgard.

“Nor I, but I foresee that we shall have stranger allies yet ere this game is finished.” Gilgard and Lothfalas shared an uneasy glance as they carried the litter after the departing Dark Eldar. Lady Aine trailed after them, a look of mixed emotions on her face, she did not enjoy the dangerous game they now played that would doubtless risk countless Eldar lives. Still, in her heart, the blood raced strong, and she felt an inner warmth of joyous readiness in her, for she knew conflict had come, and she and her temple would soon sing the songs of war through the stars once more.

===========================