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The following is something I wrote when I was exploring ideas running through my head. It details the tale of Farseer Recca's actions during the Fall of Gryphonnne IV. Not sure I'm entirely happy with it, but I'm not unhappy either. Would probably extend the combat scene if I did anything to it, but I didn't want to take focus away from the main part of this piece, and it was rather spur of the moment anyway.

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'Farseer, it is as you requested.'
The farseer turned around, gazing upon the Warp Spider that had addressed her. Garbed in the pure white and icy blue of the craftworld, the eldar kneeling in front of her stood out immensely against the drab greys and browns of the world they were currently on. Reaching out, she grasped his chin and raised his head, meeting his eyes. She smiled.

'You have done well Arakanis.' She said, her melodious voice bringing a look of peace to the Warp Spiders face. 'Are you certain that the mon-keigh will come?'

'Yes farseer. They are most desperate for a way to defeat the Great Devourer, even if it means working with 'foul xenos'' Arakanis spat out the last word, distate obvious on his face at using the language of a primitive species.

'And that shall prove to be their undoing.' She released him, and turned away, her eyes already distant, peering into the warp.

----

They were wary when they came, expecting anything from those they had come to meet. They looked imposing in their bulky, green power armor, yet they were still inferior. The leader, clearly marked by the virtue of his golden helmet, nodded at both of his brothers, and advanced alone.

'What is it you want witch?' His deep, synthetic voice was as primitive as the rest of him. The farseer could barely keep herself from recoiling in disgust from being this close to the barbarians, but kept herself firmly in place, thinking of the plan. 'Your lackey told us you could win the battle.'

'Indeed I can fool. But I never spoke of it being for you.' With that, she reached out with her mind, quickly racing through the psychic ether of the warp to grasp his, psychic tendrils curling like fingers around the manifestation of his psyche in the warp. With a thought, it was ended, tendrils constricting and snuffing out the light of life forever. The Space Marine collapsed like a puppet with it's strings cut, hitting the ground with the resounding clank of ceramite on concrete.

'Treachery! The warp-witch betrays us. Avenge our brother!' One of the remaining space marines shouted as they both charged forwards, chainswords in hand. The farseer drew her sword from the scabbard at her waist, the blade crackling ominiously with the tell-tale signs of a power weapon. Without deigning to salute her foes with her blade, she rushed to meet them head on.

It was a one-sided battle. The farseer avoided their attacks with supernatural grace and inhuman speed, turning aside their blades no matter the angle they attacked from. Just as quickly as it had begun, it was over, the farseers blade coming to rest in the throat of the second, just after she'd put it clean through the chest of the first.

Not even giving the corpses a second look, she sheathed her blade and walked away towards the Nightshade that had brought her here. The devourer would have this world, and several others, pulling Imperial forces away from their current missions to defeat it. She knew this, she had seen it.

Recca smiled. Val'kyr was safe once more.