It was just after midday and Lar’ksan could see the outline of their target through his long lens. The ugly shape of the imperial tank column slowly winding its way down the mountain path. He knew this was the way the Imperials would come. It was the only way left open to them. Lar’ksan and the other Eldar had made sure of this by blocking all other paths into the valley with tons of avalanche mountain rock.

Lar’ksan spoke directly in to the minds of his force, “The monkeigh have come. Be prepared.” He felt their responses fill his mind, thoughts of readiness and focus.

“They are at the appointed place”, Pathfinder Jun’rsan mind spoke in reply. The Imperial’s had reached the thinnest portion of the path, where the Eldar could inflict the greatest damage. Without waiting for further instructions the explosives on both sides of the path were detonated. Rock and debris crashed into the imperial column, obliterating the leading tanks. Though, as Lar’ksan expected, the avalanche did not completely block the path. It would slow the Imperials down, but in the end it would not stop them.

“Fall back to defence line one. Squad Eresse are to remain and look for targets of opportunity. May Khaine consume our souls”, Lar’ksan said as he slithered out of the forward observation post and disappeared into the jungle with the rest of the Eldar, activating trip wires and booby traps as they withdrew.

The plick, plick of silenced long rifles could just be heard as ranger squad Eresse began to fire at the Imperial guardsmen clambering over the rubble. The staccato thump of a heavy bolter sounded for a moment, and was quickly silenced by the rangers, though not before it had taken a life. The plick plick continued.

Several hours later explosions rocked the valley walls. The revving of tank engines could then be heard as the Imperials cleared the rubble and continued their advance. The deep thump of cannons followed by the krump of exploding shells echoed down the valley as they began shelling squad Eresse’s positions.

“We are withdrawing”, Jun’rsan said to Lar’ksan. Their long rifles no match against the thick frontal armour of an imperial tank.

“Move to defence Line two”, Lar’ksan replied. “Make ready the defences and activate the trips and traps”

“It is done”, Jun’rsan acknowledged.

So the first stage was complete. It had played out much as Lar’ksan expected. He knew it was ultimately just delaying tactics. They did not have the equipment to deal with imperial armour. They could slow them down, they could make them cautious, but they could not stop them. Lar’ksan knew this, as did all the Eldar with him.

Yet the Eldar would fight on. The webway gate in this valley was ancient and led to paths that could no longer be accessed through other gates. This gate must not be lost.

The Swordwind had been summoned weeks, months, before. But the Eldar were too few. They were engaged in other wars and Lar’ksan had been sent to delay the Imperials until a force was available. He had done his best with what he had but his force was nearly spent. Of the 105 Rangers and Pathfinders that had begun this campaign, just 37 remained. Weeks of operation had slowly reduced their number. Lar’ksan’s pack was heavy with the spirit stones of the dead.

The terrain in the valley was tropical, thick and close. It was the domain of bush fighters and snipers, perfect for the Eldar Rangers and Pathfinders. The Imperials would push through with their tanks but it would take time even with the large dozer blades on the front of the metal beasts. After weeks of fighting, Lar’ksan knew the imperial commander. He was brash and impatient, too confident and full of pride. Lar’ksan was counting on him to send the guardsmen in on their own.

He was not disappointed.

“Contact”, said Fur’hsan, the Pathfinder in charge of squad Eleihun.

“Hold your fire until the first row of trips are triggered. We don’t want to make them cautious to quickly”, replied Lar’ksan.

They did not have to wait long. True to imperial doctrine several columns were advancing into the thick undergrowth. Each column found the trips at almost exactly the same time.

Explosions, followed by screams filled the air. “Engage” was the only command Lar’ksan gave.

Every Eldar in his force was an expert marksman, able to hit a tiny Jukure fruit at over a kilometre. The guardsmen presented much larger targets to such skilled shots, and they began to fall in increasing numbers.

The imperial guard never took kindly to guardsmen thinking for themselves. So the Eldar targeted the offices first, killing them outright. This left the guardsmen s unorganised and confused.

The medics were next. Rushing for the wounded they presented easy targets. Seeing medics die was demoralising for the guardsmen and lead to ill discipline.

Lastly, the guardsmen themselves were targeted. Only one in four shots were kill shots. The wounded grew in number, screaming into the dark canopy of the jungle, terrifying the men coming up from the rear, creating panic and spreading fear.

The Eldar were precise and logical. The casualties being inflicted by such a small force were disproportionate. But the weight of numbers was telling. Soon heavy bolters added their fire to the lasguns of the guardsmen, shredding leaves, trees and anything in front of them. They could not make out the hidden foe so they sprayed the jungle with bullets.

Even such indiscriminate fire eventually finds a mark and Lar’ksan felt each lose keenly. He could not retrieve the spirit stones of these fallen Eldar. They would be destroyed by the Imperials in their ignorance, and She Who Thirsts would grow stronger. So he fought on with growing fury, determined to make the Imperials pay for the loss of each precious Eldar life.

When the position became untenable, Lar’ksan voiced the retreat. The remaining Eldar vanished into the thick undergrowth and moved to defence line two, careful to avoid the traps that had already been set. There they waited, listening to the screams of the guardsmen as they were slowly evacuated.

The Imperials had been given a bloody nose, so they advanced much more slowly. The occasional explosion could be heard as they set off a booby trap in the thick jungle. Three hours later they arrived.

The Eldar could see the Imperials moving cautiously in the undergrowth. This time there was no hold fire order. No contact announced. Each Eldar knew that the goal was to slow them down as far away as possible. So at extreme range the first shots rang out and the lead guardsmen sunk to the jungle floor, dead.

The Imperials were scared. Spooked by shadows, they shot at anything. Yet slowly but surely they came on, more and more of them falling to the snipers weapons. Lar’ksan watched them dispassionately as he targeted them. They were such ungainly creatures, so awkward and without grace. He was continually amazed at how they had consumed so much of the galaxy, blissfully ignorant of the harm that they caused.

A smile broke across Lar’ksan’s face as the first row of guardsmen walked past the mines that had been planted the day before. These were an Eldar specialty commonly called discs. They were wraithbone constructs, round and about 2 feet across. When triggered they would spin up to around chest height and disgorge thousands of tiny shuriken blades. They were virtually silent, the only warning being the slight hum as the disc spun up.

Lar’ksan waited until two more rows of guardsmen had passed in front of the discs. “Down”, he yelled as he triggered the trap. The Eldar dropped to the ground as the discs spun up, shredding the surrounding guardsmen. With screams coming from behind them the front ranks broke and started to flee.

But a single Imperial Captain rushed forward, waving a massive flag and yelling at the men to advance. For a second they hesitated, but then they turned and charged towards the Eldar lines, fixing bayonets as they rushed forwards.

This was something Lar’ksan hated about humans. They were so unpredictable. What should have broken their spirits one man was able to halt, and now they were charging into combat. The Eldar quickly regained their footing and started firing at the onrushing tide of humanity but it was not enough. The Eldar slung their rifles, and drew their shuriken pistols and knives as the humans crashed into their line. Desperate hand to hand combat ensued.

Lark’san found himself fighting back to back with Jun’rsan, each communicating fluidly without speaking. To the surrounding guardsmen it was like fighting one person, with 4 legs, 4 arms, 2 heads and facing two different directions. The imperial charge never stood a chance and was killed off in swift order

Yet, the damage had been done. It had bought time and allowed the rest of the guardsmen to close on the Eldar lines. It also forced the Eldar to exit their cover and expose them. Heavy Bolter and Autocannon fire shot out of the undergrowth shredding the Eldar where they stood.

Lar’ksan felt the bite of a slug graze his left arm as he dived into the hollow behind a tree. Jun’rsan landed next to him, blood trickling down his face from a close call. He did not need to voice the retreat. The Eldar were falling back into the jungle in disarray, desperately firing as they fled. Exposed to the imperial guns their camouflage clocks offered no protection and many were cut down as they tried to disappear into the foliage.

Lar’ksan and Jun’rsan wrapped their camouflage cloaks about them. Staying hidden and out of sight until the fire fight had ended. Then they slipped quietly out of the hollow, melting into the various greens of the jungle making their way back cautiously to the final defence line.

Defence line three was several kilometres away around the base of the webway gate itself. The weary Eldar made their way there as fast as they could, activating explosives, traps, discs, and all the other nasty surprises that they had planted to slow the Imperials down. The Eldar were not going out quietly.

Lar’ksan reached the webway gate just as night fell. He lifted back the hood of his cloak and, running his hand through his long dirty blonde hair, he looked around the clearing. He could see eight Eldar and sensed another three in the surrounding trees. Just 12 Eldar including himself had escaped the last attack. So many were now dead. At least his two old friends had made it through. Jun’rsan was there on the steps of the gate tending to the cut on his head, and Fur’hsan was directing some rangers to vantage points in the surrounding jungle.

Lar’ksan walked over to Jun’rsan and sank down onto the step next to him, bone weary. “How is the head?” he said speaking out loud for the first time that day.

“I will live on”, Jun’rsan grimaced as he tightened the bandage and tied it off to the side. “So, it comes to this.” He stated flatly.

“I guess it does. Such an ignoble end really, on a world on the edge of space.” Lar’ksan took out some rations from his pack and began to unwrap them. He passed one ration to Jun’rsan and another to Fur’hsan who had come over to them. The last he began to eat, immediately feeling strength returning to his limb’s from the Eldar food.

“Sentries are posted,” Fur’hsan informed the others between mouthfuls. “I have set up a sentry roster. We shall not be taken unawares.”

“Thank you.” Lar’ksan said. “Did any of the other pathfinders make it through?”

“No. It is just us three.” Jun’rsan said as he finished the ration and pulled a bottle of Eldar wine from his backpack. After taking a long swig he passed it to the others.

“Trust you to have that in your pack!” exclaimed Lar’ksan as he took the bottle from Jun’rsan.

“I was saving it for an occasion just like this,” Jun’rsan commented. “The old teams last stand.”

“I think you might be right on that one,” Fur’hsan said, taking the bottle and having a swig before handing it back to Jun’rsan. “We have got out of some tight situations in our time. But I can’t see anyway out of this one. Any update from the Craftworld, Lar’ksan? Any word from the Swordwind?”

“No, nothing new. The last I heard the Swordwind is still occupied elsewhere. Our mission remains the same though and our lives are bequeathed to the Craftworld. We must consider ourselves alone.”

“So what do you want us to do?” Jun’rsan asked, finishing the wine off and placing the empty bottle back in his pack by habit. Pathfinders never left a trace of where they had been.

Lar’ksan picked up a twig from the step next to him and sketched a quick map in the dirt. The twin moons of the planet had come out casting a soft light; enough for the Eldar pathfinders to see in Lar’ksan made a mental note that humans would still require artificial lighting devices to see clearly. A fact he intended to exploit. “I am thinking that we can sow fear into them. It is dark and that is when we are best.” Jun’rsan and Fur’hsan indicated their agreements through slight posture changes, using the complex unspoken physical language of the Eldar.

“Jun’rsan, I want you to move out this way,” Lar’ksan noted as he drew a line in the dirt. “Far’hsan, this way.” He said drawing another line. “I will remain here and try to contact the Craftworld. As I mentioned, your task will be to sow fear, and confusion. I leave the exact methods up to you. I want you back here at dawn. Do not take any needless risks.”

“Risk’s such as what?” Fur’hsan questioned.

“Yes, you cheeky sod. That comment for you.” Lar’ksan said with laughter in his voice. “I know you like getting in amongst the foe and sowing confusion from within. Use whatever methods you deem necessary but don’t do it recklessly.”

Fur’hsan indicated that he understood by changing how his hands were arranged.

“I need 30 minutes before you leave.”Lar’ksan said sadness replacing whatever gaiety had been there just seconds before. “I have to make the spirit stones safe”

Both other pathfinders lowered their heads in reverence to the task that Lar’ksan had to do. They understood the importance of hiding the stones from the prying eyes of the Imperials. They also understood that there would be no one to do the same for them when the life departed their bodies. It was the greatest fear of every Eldar, yet one that they now had to master.

Lar’ksan stood and slung his pack over his shoulder. He headed off into the jungle behind the gate. There was no point hiding them by the gate as the Imperials would likely destroy the gate and anything close to it. He continued into the jungle for several hundred metres until he found a large hollow under a fallen tree. He dug a hole as deep as he could and placed the bag of spirit stones in the earth. Lastly he placed a voiding device in the hole. This would offer it some protection by making it hard for any monkeigh to focus on the spot, psychically forcing them to think that the spot was uninteresting.

His job done he stood to return to the camp. A distant explosion made him freeze. Tank engines could be heard faintly, echoing down the valley. The Imperials were advancing again.

By the time he returned to the gate Jun’rsan and Fur’hsan had gathered their small teams of rangers and were briefing them on what was to happen. The elder had returned to mind speak to avoid making any unnecessary noise. Two more explosions sounded out in the distance.

“Are those ours?” Lar’ksan asked the other pathfinders.

“No, the Imperials are yet to reach our perimeter traps. They have started clearing the jungle with explosions. The dozer blades must have been going too slowly.” Fur’hsan replied

“How long have we got?” Lar’ksan asked, concern written across his face.

“Dawn.” Jun’rsan answered.

“I need two rangers to stay with me.” Lar’ksan said, moving on quickly from the depressing news. He had been hopping for at least an extra day.

Jun’rsan and Fur’hsan each pointed out a ranger to remain and then walked over to Lar’ksan.

“It is time. Khaine consume your soul.” Lar’ksan said, in the ritual Eldar war farewell.

“Khaine consume your soul.” Jun’rsan and Fur’hsan replied together, before returning to their teams and disappearing into the surrounding jungle.

Lar’ksan watched them go and then turned to the job at hand. He had to contact the Craftworld. The Swordwind must arrive before dawn. He dispatched the two rangers to watch the perimeter and then walked up the steps to the bottom of the webway gate.

He looked up at the device. It dwarfed him, rising high above the jungle canopy. It was of the ancient build, capable of having a small titan walk through it with minimal effort. With enough warlocks and enough psychic energy however, even a might Phantom titan could step through onto the planet. There were few of these gates left anywhere in the galaxy.

He activated a small portion of the gate and let his mind wandering out into the webway beyond. He was not a powerful psycher but like all Eldar he possessed basic psychic abilities. He was not strong enough to mentally cover the enormous distance and commune directly with the Craftworld but he could send his thoughts coursing towards it, having them arrive and in turn receive a reply given enough time. He provided an update and a call for support and sent his thoughts out into the winding webway. Then he lent against the side of the gate and listened for a response.

The night was filled with gunfire, explosion, and the sound of engines, all of them slowly getting closer as the night wore on. Occasionally Lar’ksan would resend his communication to the Craftworld, although so far there was no answer.

At intervals he would receive updates from the two pathfinders out in the jungle. They were doing well and the many traps and discs that had been planted were taking a heavy toll on the Imperials, both physically and mentally. The Imperials were terrified and advancing extremely slowly. But they were still advancing. Casualties were slowly mounting against the already depleted Eldar force as the Imperials occasionally got lucky. There were only eight Eldar remaining.

From time to time Lar’ksan would drift into a fit full sleep as his weary body and stationary task over powered his ability to remain awake. Each time an explosion would wake him. Each time the explosion was closer.

Just before dawn Lark’san awoke to the loudest explosion yet. The Imperials were close now. For a final time he sent his communicate into the webway, this time including the location of the spirit stones that he had hidden. He then detached himself from the webway and closed the gate. He picked up his long rifle and walked down the steps to the floor of the clearing.

Just as the first rays of sun light broke over the top of the surrounding hills Jun’rsan and Fur’hsan slipped into the clearing. Only one other ranger was with them.

“They are here.” Jun’rsan said. He looked exhausted. They all did.

“We shall hold them at the steps. The power of the gate will afford us some protection.” Lar’ksan said as he pointed out where he wanted each ranger to position himself. The three pathfinders went up to the top of the steps. Lar’ksan walked over to a series of spirit stones which were set into the side of the gate, he spoke quietly to them and a low hum began emanating from the gate itself. He had activated a basic shield that would both stop some incoming fire and make it harder for the Imperials to accurately target the Eldar.

Once this was done he returned to the other pathfinders. They were all too exhausted to say anything. Resigned to the fate that awaited them they moved to their appointed places behind prepared wraithbone barricades. The temptation to flee into the webway was strong, but each had vowed to hold this place, and a vow to Khaine was not taken lightly.

The outer perimeter traps started being set off and explosions and screams could be heard from within the jungle. Lar’ksan estimated where the Imperials were and began to activate the discs and other manually triggered traps. Each activation was accompanied by more screaming. So far his estimating was proving good.

“Contact” one of the Eldar rangers on the lower steps said.

“Engage” said Lar’ksan as the first guardsmen entered the clearing.

Long rifles cracked out in the quickly humidifying jungle air and the first guardsmen into the clearing fell dead. Lasgun fire erupted from under the tree edge, but it was misguided and random and did no damage. The Eldar guns sight’s had no trouble picking out the imperial guardsmen at the jungle edge and they soon began to die. A heavy bolter added its staccato noise to the increasing din, but a few quick shots and it silenced.

So far nothing had got through the Eldar shield while the guardsmen continued to die. Lar’ksan allowed himself a brief moment of pride at what his team had accomplished over the weeks, and a moment of hope as they continued to hold the Imperials at bay.

All of a sudden a group of guardsmen broke cover on the left and rushed towards the gate. The Eldar quickly turned their fire onto them. No sooner had they switched targets then another group broke cover on the right. Pretty soon the guardsmen were rushing at them across the entire front having realised that they could not defeat the Eldar at range, they set about trying to overwhelm them by pure weight of numbers.

Many of the guardsmen fell as the rushed across the clearing, but such a small team of Eldar could never hold back so many.

“Prepare for hand to hand,” yelled Lar’ksan, as the Imperials reached the edge of the shield. The Eldar dropped their long rifles; they were useless at such range. They drew their shuriken pistols and knives, which were essentially short curved swords.

The first guardsmen died as they entered the shield, impaled by hundreds of shuriken. Then the guardsmen were on them. The Eldar fought like dancers with grace and agility, leaping and moving, slashing and firing. In comparison the humans were slow and heavy, stabbing with their weighty bayonets or swinging their lasguns in wide arcs.

The rangers at the foot of the gate held out for just over a minute. They fought as only trapped men without hope can fight and they took a dozen guardsmen down with them. In the end it was simply not enough. Each of them were overwhelmed by multiple attackers and dragged to the ground.

The pathfinders rained fire down into the guardsmen below and the momentum of the charge briefly halted. Then with a crash a section of trees at the edge of the clearing came down and an Imperial tank crashed through, its cannon already firing. The first shot bounced off the gates shield but the second exploded on the steps of the gate itself. The explosion sent shrapnel ripping through Jun’rsan and he collapsed to the ground dead, a large gash in the side of his head. More tanks quickly flooded into the clearing.

Lar’ksan and Fur’hsan looked at each other. “Shall we dance?” Fur’hsan asked.

“Let’s” replied Lar’ksan.

Together they rose and leapt down the steps into the midst of the guardsmen. This took them by surprise and four of them died before they had a chance to react. Lar’ksan and Fur’hsan stood back to back ducking and weaving fluidly around the attacks of the guardsmen, firing point blank into the faces of the guardsmen as they rushed towards them. They were a whirlwind of death.

Suddenly Fur’hsan cried out and collapsed behind him. In that brief moment of distraction a bayonet broke through his defence and pierced Lar’ksan’s thigh, another went through his side and a third bit into his shoulder. He succumbed to the pain and crumbled onto the step below him. He lay there for a few seconds and watched his life blood cascading down the steps like small waterfalls.

Glancing over Lar’ksan saw Fur’hsan collapsed against a step with a deep cut to his arm and across his chest. The guardsmen were not advancing to kill Fur’hsan however and he suddenly realised that he too was not being killed outright. He had expected a quick death. Yet again the humans had surprised him.

Looking around he saw the man that had inflicted the wound to Fur’hsan. It was the commander of the imperial forces. A man he had tried several times to assassinate. The commander wiped the blood off his sword and then walked over to Lar’ksan. “You are the leader of this force, are you not?” the commander asked him. “And do not pretend you don’t speak Imperial Gothic, ranger! I know your type.”

“Yes, I am the leader of this force, human,” Lar’ksan said. “This planet belongs to the Eldar and you are not welcome here.” Lar’ksan tried to sound as forceful as possible though he could feel his life slipping away. It was simply a matter of minutes now.

“I do not believe you are in a position to make threats xeno’s scum.” The commander said as he raised his sword above his head ready to plunge it into Lar’ksan’s chest. “I simply wanted to ensure that I had the pleasure of killing you, seeing as you have caused me so much trouble”

Lar’ksan stared into the humans eyes and silently commended his soul to Khaine. Then he blinked as his face was covered in blood. For a second he wondered if this was how it felt when you died, then he realise that the commanders sword still raised above him. He looked down slightly and saw two shimmering power blades protruding from the commander’s chest. They withdrew and the commander collapsed to the side, crumbling in a heap on the steps.

With the commander out of the way, Lar’ksan saw the Warp-Spider that had killed him. With blood still dripping from its power blades it lowered its death-spinners and shredded the nearest guardsman with monofilament wire. All of a sudden there were shouts and yells as more Warp Spiders appeared amongst the guardsmen shredding them where they stood.

Suddenly screaming issued forth from the webway gate as it shimmered into life. Guardsmen fell to their knees clasping their ears or ran screaming for the jungle. A dozen tears abruptly appeared in the satiny surface of the webway gate.

From each one a Banshee erupted bounding down the steps, killing guardsmen where they stood or knelt, like a tidal wave of noise and steel.

Lar’ksan was about to yell to the Banshees, warning them of the tanks waiting for them in the clearing, when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see the surface of the webway torn from top to bottom, the elegant bulk of a Revenant titan stepping out into the morning sun. The light glinted off the Revenant’s two massive pulsars as they fired. Incandescent beams of light blasted into two imperial tanks, exploding them and sending them spiralling into the air.

The Imperials were in full retreat now, dropping kit and weapons as they desperately fled into the jungle. More and more Eldar troops poured through the webway gate, Dark Reapers, Dire Avengers, and weapon platforms. Jetbikes skimmed through and raced across the treetops firing at the fleeing guardsmen. Falcons and Fire Prims darted onto the planet and raced between the titans legs, chasing after the quickly fleeing Imperial tanks.

“Well done Lar’ksan” Farseer Ulthme’dun said as she stepped through the webway gate onto the top of the steps. “We are most grateful for your sacrifice. We have the location of the spirit stones you collected. You will enter the infinity circuit with dignity, a hero to your people.”

Lar’ksan smiled as he felt the life ebb from his body and felt his spirit enter his spirit stone. The webway gate was safe now.

The Swordwind had arrived.