Phoenix Force (IC)

[Tychris1]

http://orig09.deviantart.net/7d35/f/2007/034/2/6/eldar_autarch_by_r7ll.jpg

In the grim dark future of the forty first millennium, there is only war. The Imperium of Mankind is beset on all sides by enemies, slowly losing their grip on an empire that has been rotting from the inside for millennia. But even they are but infants compared to the ancient Eldar, Children of the Stars. Though their empire was vast and powerful, their hedonistic ways lead to a fallout that devastated their people and left them teetering on the brink of oblivion. To avoid this fate, each Eldar now walks down strict lifestyles known as Paths, and focus themselves entirely to a singular art whilst endeavoring in the battle for survival. For one reason or another each of you have decided to walk the path of the Warrior recently, taking up the mantle of Khaela Mensha Khaine's Aspects, and marching to war for your respective Craftworlds.

Disaster lurked in the edges of the impossible, foul warp creatures scheming to undo the shackles of order on this world, and tear reality asunder in an orgy of violence and insanity. A coalition of Craftworlds came together, a mighty warhost the likes of which had not been seen for generations, and together they struck as a shining spear amidst the darkness and skewered those foul beast. In the killing fields of Yacharn III, Eight Aspect Warriors convened on a single Tzeentchian Herald, and tracked his cowardly self down to a cave. Before the final blow was struck, he tore open a portal to the fate pools of Tzeentch itself and unleashed an unspeakable evil. Probabilitor the Puzzling, Herald of Tzeentch, had corrupted these eight warriors beyond recognition, and soon they passed out. Condemned to die.

But they refused.

The Aspects of Khaine rose up from the ashes hours later, their bodies strewn along with countless corpses of their kin. Lands ravaged, cities in ruin, so many lives sacrificed on the altar of war, and yet there was no other word for it but victory. Disorientated, lost, and wounded the eight warriors were recovered from the fields of war by silent and efficient warlocks. Messengers from Eldrad Ulthran who bore an offer to each of these warriors: Become something greater then yourself, save the Eldar race, and defeat the Warmaster of Chaos.

Become Phoenix Force.

Weeks passed and now these warriors live upon the capital ship of Eldrad's, "Asuryan's Ascent". Each of them was offered a room to personalize and make their own, a small concession to help the Eldar accustom to leaving their Craftworlds forever, and act as monasteries for them to feverishly work on their gear and train. The ship was a labyrinthian beast, sleek and grandiose in design, a beating heart with a steady stream of crewman flowing through its veins. Bonesingers moving to and fro working on the engines, the structure, and ensuring the resonance of the psychic energies flowing within were kept in tact. A council of warlocks held hands together in hymns within the Guiding Chamber, perceiving the strands of fate and looking over the whole ship with a psychic eye. Spiritseers commune with the soul stones that aid their living brethren in piloting the ship through the web way in the Command Bridge, and a motley crew of Corsairs, Guardians, and Aspect Warriors stand ready in the garrison to battle.

This is the story of Phoenix Force.


Feel free to do some mundane RP, get to know each other, stretch out your characters legs and describe your rooms if you want. You can also describe the events of Yacharn III from your own perspective if you are so inclined. Go nuts, your first mission will begin once you've all settled in properly.

[Dop Jones]

"There I was, confronted by the filthy mon'keigh battalion calling themselves 'kay-deen' a strange title indeed, I don't know why they'd name themselves after a Saim-Hann dialect slur for feces, but that's besides the point" Mo'sha paused, realizing his wise cracks were not enthusing his listeners all too well. His listening party included a moderate handful of eldar of all ranks from guardians serving to other aspects all wrapped into his tall tales of heroism told from the comfort of the commons room.

"Alright I'll cut this story short; It was there on the battlefield I met her. The woman who guided me to where I am right now. She had been shot by the enemy, but being the medic I am I stitched her up, killed the ambush squad, and got her name all in one swoop." He took a deep breath getting ready to ramble the ears off his comrades again. Mo'sha sung praises of every aspect of the Eldar woman he met, minutes passing before coming up for a breath of air. "She was a swooping hawk. I became a swooping hawk so that I can see her more. A reasonable decision, as the wings of a hawk granted me all the freedom I so desire. But the wings are just a side benefit aside from the real prize: Ne'hit, my love."

He took a pause for a moment as tears came to his eyes. "You were all on planet during the horrors that brought us together, so you all know what was going down from your perspectives. I'll skip the sappy stuff so I don't make you jealous." He joked. "it was in the fields of war as the hawks assembled to lay down aerial superiority and mulch the hordes of daemons rushing from their immaterial dimensions.

Everything went as usual. Dodge giant lasers, blast foes to literal dust, and fritz machines with haywire bombs until the gears and computers melt just like the crewmen do under laser fire. Our aerial combat routines were working exceptional as daemons generally carry less guns and more swords, so less fire directed at us. We took a few hits, I dove in front Ne'hit to protect her and then patched my wounds while still flying"

Mo'sha let out an unbelievably large smile as he exaggerated his stories to no end to impress his new crew. "I probably even saw you folk while flying overhead, I saw the fire dragons division melting the enemy at their core." Mo'sha's tone shifted severely as the story progressed. "Then it all went downhill. We ended up chasing that Herald down. Killed, covered in corpses is how we ended up. Before we chased that herald, he tossed a warp bolt so powerful, it could turn an eldar from a proud warrior to dust. I was shoved out of the way my Ne'hit in mid air as she screamed her final words to me: 'Look out, sir!' and before I could react, she was completely vaporized. I know a lot of medicine, but I can't stitch dust. Even her very soul stone was ash." Tears began to shed. "I was in shock, everything was in slow motion. Then it happened. I got angry. I got REALLY ANGRY. You may have heard my screaming descent chasing that Herald down screaming 'FUUUUUUUCK!' "

The tears turned to full on crying. "I lost her. I couldn't save her. She died to save me, and I keep asking 'why?' I joined the path of the hawks just for her, I saved her with my sutures so many times, she was always better than me, she was my squad commander, and now she jumps in front of the blast for me? Why? I deserved it back there! She should serve in my place!" Mo'sha paused for a good long while realizing his rants went from heroic tall tales to raving and crying, and he was upsetting all of his guests.

"S-sorry. My name is Mo'sha Sabh-Hann and it's an honor to be alive and serve alongside such great warriors. I'll be your eyes in the sky."

[Azirael]

"For a moment I slipped into my own mind. I felt the darkness and the weight of my duty strengthen my nerves for what was to come. I activated my jump generator, and like countless times my senses were assaulted. An instant of horrible images and sounds, ones I cannot fully remember or understand, but haunt my mind. I am hardened to these, having experienced them countless times before, but each time I feel as though they take something from me."

"When I emerged at the end of my jump, they stood before me. the Mon'keigh. Disgusting lesser creatures that serve She Who Hungers and her ilk. In my time walking the path of a Black Guardian, I have faced them and the abominations of the warp while protecting my home, but every time they stand before me I am sick with hatred. Without my people's once glorious empire to keep them in their place, their infestation has grown to every rim of the galaxy. But their worst crime is their foolishness in toying with powers they cannot control."

"I point my death spinner towards them and let their death fly. In moments the Mon'keigh is shredded by the monofilament, reduced to a pulp that mixes with the dirt. Right where they belong."

"I cannot enjoy their deaths, there is no time. They're are others that must be slain, others that serve She Who Hungers. I must face the grim reminder of the Warp. I must jump again."

"I slip into my mind again. I can't remember for how long."

Tal'drys's mind is assaulted by memories. A young Eldar Black Guardian stands with his brethren. Their Assault is to begin. The Guardian feels both excitement and fear, but he controls both to the best of his ability. It is his first battle after taking the path. When one lives near the Eye of Terror, tales of the Black Guardians battles are often and numerous, but now he will experience it first hand. The battle has already begun when his squad arrived through the Webway. His squad moved into action as an efficient machine. His shuriken cannon felt at home in his hands. He kills the Mon'keigh worshipers for the first time and he is proud. A few hours pass and his Brethren have secured the area. All Mon'keigh lie dead around them. They take a moment to regroup before joining the main battle, but a mist rolls in. suddenly they cannot see beyond their own reach. The young guardian falls over the corpse of a mon'keigh. Giggles a sultry coos surround them, coming from all directions and seemingly their own heads. Before the Guardian can stand up again the spawn of She Who Hungers is upon them. They toy with his brethren, torturing and killing them slowly. The Guardian watched in horror, and to his own regret, he laid amongst the corpses.

His brothers were gone. He stood there, overlooked by the Warp spawn and left to wallow in the death. He was changed.

"I woke from my trance some time later. I was stand above my latest kill. It was one of the more heavily armored mon'keigh. I believe they are called 'Marr-eens'. I had done well this day."

"I turned my head to fighting on the horizon."

"I slipped into my mind, and I activated my jump generator."

- Tal'drys El-luvian shot up, eyes wide. After moments of panicked glancing about the room, he steadied himself, and let out a long sigh.

"More nightmares." Dark dreams and twisted memories have been a constant side effect of Tal'drys's profession.

He solemnly gathered his things, and went out into the commons.

[Ouroboring]

Kothall scrutinizes his quarters with solemn resignation, sighing at the cold sterility of it's walls.

He removes an object from a large container of his personal effects, and raises it with reverence. The bleached skull of a primal beast, the size of his torso; A megadon, a dragon, one of the mighty reptilian monsters that litter the maiden worlds. It has been years since Kothall had been upon one of the verdant worlds of his exodite brothers, but no day passes that he does not feel the pull of his former path, that of the outcast. He mounts his trophied artifact upon the wall.

He removes another relic of his past, the hide of another one of these beasts, one he wore in times passed, fashioned into a hooded cloak. Many times this cloak was fixed to his back as he hunted both beast and man. Now perhaps only an indulgence from the past. He pulls a small, glimmering blade from the container, and cuts a strip from the base of the lengthy coat, and ties it around his neck, leaving a small portion resting over his shoulder, down to his breast plate.

Lastly, he removes a banner, and pins it to the wall over his bed. On it, emblazoned in stark blackness, the Crucible of Souls, the Hearth of Vaul, the heraldry of his Craftworld, Yme-Loc. He stares deeply into it, and bows before the venerated rune. With his head arched and his hands placed together in dignified prayer, he whispers,

"Mael Dannan."

He grabs his war-mask, and quickly departs his barracks to make way to the commons, both eager and apprehensive to learn more of his new commission. He arrives to the sight of a small crowd of guardians and corsairs, gathered about staring awkwardly at a swooping hawk, bawling and babbling about something incoherently.

[Azirael]

Tal'drys turned towards Kothall as he entered the room. Seeing him fixated on the group of guardians and corsairs, Tal'drys strode over and stood beside Kothall.

"Lavai Kurom." Tal'drys greeted.

"What is happening here?"

[Ouroboring]

Kothall examines Tal'drys in a cursory manner and responds,

"Lavai Nanar." he responds to Tal'drys greeting. "Kothall Kha'sen, of Yme-Loc."

"And I am not sure, I have just arrived myself," Kothall pauses for a moment.

In the brief moments of Kothall's pause the bawling Swooping Hawk suddenly changes tone and Kothall hears him declare,
"S-sorry. My name is Mo'sha Sabh-Hann and it's an honor to be alive and serve alongside such great warriors. I'll be your eyes in the sky."

"I will find out. Come." Kothall motions for Tal'drys to follow as he approaches the small crowd,
"An honor indeed..." he says, with an air of mild condescension. "Lavai Novas Mo'Sha, i trust your wings are not as weak as your nerves. If I'm not mistaken, I believe we've all been recruited for the same commission."

[Dop Jones]

"Lose the most important thing in your life and you too will be wracked with grief. I assure you my wits and nerves are more ironclad than the hull of the ship we reside in." Mo'sha took slow, deliberate breaths pausing almost uncomfortably between each sentence so as to calm his wretched self.

"The Saim-Hann greeting is a shake of hands, clash of heads, and exchange of prayer." Mo'sha rose to his feet and extended his hand towards the fire dragon as he spoke.

[Azirael]

Tal'drys stiffened at Mo'sha's greeting.

"A MearNova pf Saim-Hann? That explains the queer behavior." Tal'drys reasoned.

Tal'drys intercepted Mo'sha's hand to complete his greeting, and pulled him close. His voice turned from calm to very grim.

"And you speak of grief, where many can say you have no right Saim-Hann."

"You and your Kionash do not have to orbit the Eye, and the horrors that come within. If we are to operate around there, you'll quickly pick up the Ulthwe demeanor."

Tal'drys let go of Mo'sha's hand, a pause for a moment in reflection.

"hmm, forgive my outburst. Such conduct is inappropriate of me since you our guests of our Farseer."

"Lavai MearNova."

[Dop Jones]

Mo'sha stepped forth and butted heads with Tal'drys. "You dishonor me, the dragon, and all of our race by making claims such as yours and intercepting such an honorable greeting." Mo'sha was angry. Really angry.

After a deep breath of seething rage, Mo'sha spoke through gritted teeth.
"Do not claim yourself more important because you act like you are some sort of victim. We are eldar, we are brothers, and we are all victims of the warp. You know nothing of the struggles of Saim-Hann, you know nothing of choosing a path that was not in line with what was initially intended for you, for I was to be a shining spear, a wild rider."

Mo'sha stepped back from the head-to-head ravings.

"You do not dare insult me or my brothers of your very race aboard a ship of comeraderie."

Mo'sha stepped beside Tal'drys and extended his hand to Kothall, muttering a prayer under is breath.

[Azirael]

Tal'drys simply gave a short chuckle at the over-emotional aspect warrior. he gladly let Mo'sha by.

Tal'drys muttered under his breath, "Ceiba-ny-shak." and went silent.

[Ouroboring]

Kothall extends his hand to meet Mo'Sha's, leans in to gently grab the side of his head and briskly knocks his forehead to Mo'Sha's. He whispers a concise mantra under his breath before parting heads and hands.

"I like this greeting," Kothall says amiably.

"Forgive my bluntness. It seems we are all proud men. Compassion sometimes escapes proud men."

He turns to address Tal'drys.

"Not all of us have the privilege to tread the eye, Ulthwe. We are a race born into great burden. None of us are in a position to concede our sympathies." He pauses a moment, and stares intently into Tal'drys eyes.

"What is your name Nanar?"

[Azirael]

"You humble me Kurom." Tal'drys sighed in shame.

He bowed apologetically, introducing himself.

"I am Tal'drys El-luvian."

Tal'drys turned towards Mo'sha, and bowed again.

"My sincerest apology MearNova. Insults are unbecoming of a warrior." Tal'drys extended his hand in a sincere greeting.

[Dop Jones]

Mo'sha accepted the hand and with a rather aggressive head clash and audible prayer he greeted Tal'drys the proper Saim-Hann way.

"I want to be your rival, not your enemy." Mo'sha sighed. "Don't mix the two up. Saim-Hann are proud people always trying to outdo each other."

Mo'sha smirked before cracking his next line
"So don't get too mad when I zip circles around the battlefield and leave nothing for you to do."

[Yatelboa]

Fortunus Zale rose slowly from the floor of his quarters releasing his grip on the knife he slept with. Getting off the floor was always a new experience. The dreams he'd never remember would take him from bed to the floor. Leaving him scarred and bruised.
Sleeping with a knife is like begging death to save me. But like a good harem virgin. Shes always teasing me never making a move. Damn Harem prude, littering me with her death kisses instead of just doing it Fortunus pondered as he tucked the knife in his undergarments and finished reassembling himself. Listening to the chatter outside he prepared.
Putting a thin cloth over the eyes of his helmet to fool everyone into believing he was blind. Fortunus smiled remembering the conversation he had with a dark eldar named Zala that ended in a free strip show. She was a real terrorax when it came to bargaining. Drained me for every cent I had. But I got mine. Fortunus looked at an empty jar in the corner of his room. I got mine...
Smiling wider but no one would ever see.
Fortunus left his quarters and strolled into the room of Eldars quietly as a morning mist. He looked right at Mo'sha's eyes but knows Mo'sha will never see his and said " "What smells like a Dark eldars dark crevice?" Then tilting his head back as if he narrowed down the smell he looked at Kothall and gasped as if surprise had stricken him with a bat. "Son of an Ur-Ghul is that you Tal'drys? You old harem hopper you!"

[Azirael]

Tal'drys visibly became more relaxed.

"Fortunus, it is good to see you."

He chuckled to himself for a brief moment.

"I wish you could say the same young one."

Tal'drys patted the young warrior's shoulder. He had served alongside Fortunus sparsely when Fortunus was still a Black Guardian. One would think that Fortunus's behavior and creative imagination to be a nuisance, but Tal'drys found it amusing.

"You still make you jokes and tales don't you? One would think you sought the path of a Rillietann." Tal'drys grabbed Fortunus's hand and shook it jovially.

He became serious once more. "Fortunus you must not mention the Eldarith Ynneas so often. They represent the old ways which doomed our people. They are not something to be admired"

[Yatelboa]

Fortunus met Tal'drys' hand and stared back at Kothall from under the helmet. As he let go of Tal'drys' hand "Pardon the mistake madam, I am hard at hearing one as stealthy as Tal'drys. I must have mistaken your gentle footsteps for his." Fortunus points his thumb over his shoulder at Mo'sha "Tal'drys can be a real fool sometimes. But don't let our jabber fool you we wed and bed like the lot of us. Near to never lest you've cornered us. Should you ever plunder us remember to leave us tits up! Haha!" Fortunus spanks at the mid air where Tal'drys used to be. "Came damn near close to getting you to go along with it though didn't I Tal'drys?" Fortunus looks back at Mo'sha.

[Dop Jones]

Mo'sha stared blankly at the blindfolded mascot. "What?"

He blinked rapidly for a moment and paused. In a fit of awkwardness he glanced around the room to observe his surroundings; to see if this was some sort of joke he was missing.

[Tychris1]

Asuryan's Ascent
Common Room

As the tall tale of Mo'sha slowly died down and lead way to the squabbling of Asuryan's children, the crowd of Guardians and Corsairs that had gathered earlier dispersed and went back to their regularly scheduled routines. Some of them remained in the room, a blank room of white wraith bone with a dozen tables strewn throughout the room seemingly at random, yet with an eagle eyes view of the place one would see it actually spelt out the Eldar rune of protection. A large sapphire stone wreathed in thin leaves and vine casted a shimmering baby blue light on the room, an artificial replica of a blue sun shining on a forest. A group of Dire Avengers parted as a sultry and commanding voice struck out from amidst their ranks "How quickly we fall to in-fighting, hmph." Performing maintenance on her Shrunken Catapult, the female Eldar was covered from neck to toe in a green and white body suit, her dark purple hair tied up into a long pony tail with long slender ears curving into it. Her body was muscular and lithe, nary an inch of her frame was without cuts or muscle, and a long scar ran across her right eye the only blemish on the porcelain mask that was her face. Placing the catapult down, she turned to face each of the Phoenix Fighters one by one, and examined them with piercing green eyes.

"So this is the rest of Phoenix Force, I was told by All'Epha that-" CLANG, a loud sound of wraith bone and stones colliding against each other rang throughout the room which was soon followed by an "Aye-yi-yi-yi-yi! Where did that door frame come from!" Stumbling into the Common Room past some onlooking corsairs was an Eldar Warlock of the Craftworld Ulthwe dressed in the traditional robes and helmet of his Path. A series of curling horns and a tangle of necklaces and amulets gave away his distinct rank of Chief Warlock, and an inverse lightning bolt on his chest signified him as Eldrad's disciple. "Ah! There you are Onlath! I've been looking all over for you."

[Yatelboa]

Fortunus flinched back from the clamour into a low stance with an arm raised for blocking and the other halfway to his undergarment knife. When Onlath revealed himself Fortunus fell back into line grunting as if a gypsy child just touched him. He turned to Kothall behind him and muttered, "Damn blue balled wearin' excuse for a noise machine had me ready to go. Coattails, you think he's doing this for us or because his handicap is opening doors?

[Ouroboring]

Kothall paused a moment, baffled by the eccentric Fortunus' speech and actions, suddenly turns grabbing
Fortunus arm and lifting him to a standing position.

"Are you daft boy?! We're in the presence of a chief warlock, conduct yourself with some
tact." he says with stern indignation.

"He's of your own Craftworld, and of Eldrad's own flock. Your foolishness is shameful and is
disrespectful to him and to yourself."

Realising the hasty potency of his anger, Kothall then silences himself attentively and turns to bow to All'Epha, attempting to curb his own temper.

"Forgive us Master Esdainn, we are only just now making each others acquaintance."

[Yatelboa]

"Oh, you're one of those."
Fortunus muttered under his breath.
Turning to Kothall, watching him bow. Feeling the sorrow for such blind respect. Knowing he himself must also show respect or atleast fake it until he felt it, he joined Kothall.
"Well I'm SO sorry I must have been daft coattails! It wont happen again sir Master Esdainn sir"
The disdain was audible but he hoped it would go over passively since he wore a blindfold and "could not see." Remembering his promise to All'epha (his respect upon recruitment). Knowing at the end of this diplomatic agreement was a future of answering to "Fortunus Zale Blind Space Ranger" and commanding respect with every action.
Getting up from the bow he fell back in line and awaited further instruction.

[Tychris1]

Asuryan's Ascent
Common Room

"You're an idiot."

Her voice maintained a steady yet biting monotone quality as Onlath's posse of Dire Avengers dispersed and defused throughout the room. Her piercing green eyes staring Fortunus directly in the blindfold with such unflinching accuracy that one would think that she could see past the veil and lies. "If this buffoon is what constitutes for an elite and subtle tool of the Eldar then I weep for Ulthwe,"


Looking back and forth between the three Aspect Warriors, All'Epha grew visibly disheveled as he waved his hands around in a pantomiming and distracted manner "Oh, no, this is all really unnecessary, really. Calm yourselves Rangers, I'm not worthy of such treatment."

Glancing over at All'Epha Onlath straightened herself out before turning to bow her head "What is it you seek, Battle Prophet?" The maladroit Chief Warlock tapped his force staff against the polished ground below, his collection of baubles jingling excitedly as he noticeably perked up "I see you've met the other members, good! I wanted to introduce you to the rest of Phoenix Force. Lord Eldrad wanted you all to get acquainted and for me to observe. Introducing Zas'Xiao, Moragath, and Morromore." Stepping to the side, the Chief Warlock beckoned in the three eldar with a sweep of his hand. Marching into the common room first, Zas'Xiao was a female Eldar of middling height and a bubbly demeanor her face tattooed with a swirling snake and sun. Her green hair was cut short in a bob, several braids of wraith bone complimenting her sea grey eyes, and her bright yellow and blue suit completed her ensemble. Behind her was a large and imposing male Eldar clearly long in the tooth, his hair grey and his cracked skin showing the wear of years upon his immortal frame. His eyes were clearly augmented as one of them had an entirely different sclera and retina then the other, its veins pulsing with power. His bulging veins, rippling muscles, and permanent scowl were all signs of a lifetime of violence. Unlike the others he dressed himself with trophies from other races strung throughout his grey suit. Lastly was Morromore,a thin and tall female even amongst a race renowned for their towering and lithe physiques. Like a lanky spider dropped from her web, her black eyes burned with intense vibrant life, and her long red hair flowed behind her like a river of blood down to her waist. Her lips were curled into a taunting smile, chipped and jagged teeth shifted haphazardly in her mouth, and acted as a sharp contrast to her cat-like face. Her body suit was a mixture of baby blue and bright silver, with slightly thicker padding around her shoulders and knees.

Lining up, the three of them stood at attention for Onlath to look over, and after a brief examination the Dire Avenger nodded for them to rest at ease. The first to break the silence, Moragath's voice was a booming and deep bass that stopped abruptly on certain words for emphasis. "I heard there was a fight here, don't tell me I missed all the fun. I'd hate to miss who the real Eldar are amongst this group."


From their markings and suits you can tell the following information.

Zas'Xiao: Hails from Iyanden, is a Dark Reaper.
Moragath: Hails from an Exodite World, is a Howling Banshee.
Morromore: Hails from a Reaver Fleet, is a Shining Spear.

[Azirael]

Tal'drys had watched the display with a decent amount of anger, but he had already in this encounter with his teammates let his pride and anger make him the fool.

Kothall's words still stung his pride as an Eldarith Warrior.

Once Fortunus's display had died down and All'epha introduced the other warriors, Tal'drys regarded the Ulthwe Warlock

"Lavaillian esdainn All'Epha", bowing as he spoke.

He then turned towards Moragath and greeted him.

"Lavai fellow warrior. I understand your desire to prove your worthiness, but I have been reminded recently..." he paused to look at Mo'sha and Kothall, almost apologetically, then turned back towards Moragath, "... that real Eldarith do not fight among themselves."

Tal'drys once again looked to the warlock. "Forgive me Master All'Epha, but there are still many things about this 'Phoenix Force' I do not understand."

"Why have we been taken from our fellow warriors? If we were a strike force with full squadrons of each aspect I would understand this joining, but why one of each? And for what mission?"

As he spoke Tal'drys made sure his tone was level and that his stance were neutral. Kionash Ulthwe's warlocks were in many ways their most prized members, and to offend one was shameful. Especially if it was All'Epha.

[Dop Jones]

Mo'sha dropped to one knee and mumbled a prayer as the powerful warlock humbled and stumbled into the room. He did not remove himself from one knee until the entirety of the other team revealed themselves to him. "By Ynnead, I never thought I'd be so graced by Eldrad himself to be given such an opportunity to serve our people alongside such great warriors. I am Mo'sha Sabh-Hann, chief executive officer of aerial combat along my comrades. I sincerely hope we don't in-fight with each other, it's unfitting of such powerful comrades to use our cool guns and insults on each other. "


Without a single coherent and relevant thought to his situation travelling through the head of the warrior, his eyes transferred all focus to Morromore as he was entirely enthralled at the appearance and grace of the crimson haired knight. Staring like an absolute buffoon he didn't utter a single word, but his face communicated the impulsive and foolish depths of his mind pouring out to her; with the the actual depth of his mind being equatable to a puddle of spilled 'Eldar Brand Space Soda'.

[Tychris1]

Asuryan's Ascent
Common Room

Moragath merely grunted his acknowledgment of Tal'drys' commentary, his arms folded across his chest, and a single eyebrow raised as he watched the scene unfold. Morromore for her part was completely oblivious to Mo'sha's rude staring, her body fidgeting and knuckles tensing as she nodded vigorously along with the Warp Spider's questioning.

"I wish I could tell you, but my Master has been quite reclusive after he ordered me to collect you all, and has only given me vague answers when he chooses to answer me at all. Aye-yi-yi, I truly wish I could be of more assistance to you my kin but the most he's divulged is that each of you possess a unique gift separating you from everyone else."

Grabbing his head, All'Epha shook it in a fit of neurotic anxiety, and then waved off an assistant guardian who came to help him. Perking up slightly, he held a finger high and exclaimed "But Lord Eldrad did say that he would personally see you all today! Once you've been collected and acquainted with one another, he gave me orders to bring you all to him, and I'm sure he'll have the answers to your questions!"

"Wonderful!" Zas'xiao chirped
"Interesting...." Onlath stroked her pointed chin and said
"Well alright then." Moragath grunted
"Righteous!" Morromore exclaimed

[Tychris1]

Asuryan's Ascent
Meditation Chamber

With bumbling grace the Chief Warlock lead the intrepid group of Eldar Warriors through the twisting and complex veins of Eldrad's flag ship, often times turning one way and then instantly backpedaling when he realized it was the other way he was supposed to go. After twenty minutes of misdirection, he stopped before a massive gate of wraithbone that seemingly pulsed with eldritch power. Veins of psychic potential coursed through these psyker conduits, barely containing themselves, and ready to burst at the seams in just a moments notice. The entire construct seemed alive, a misnomer considering the living nature of all things Eldar make, but it visibly shook and heaved like a mother in labor. Stepping to the side, Al'lEpha raised a hand and channeled some of his own psyker energies into a heretofore unseen panel, and the gate lurched open slowly.

What lay inside seemed disconnected from the rest of the ship, distant by galaxies to the Aspect Warriors who were only feet from it, and as they stepped through the gate it felt as if they were entering another dimension. No light source was clearly evident in the nearly pitch black chamber, its vast bowels reminiscent of the wide empty expanse of space, and its own swirling floor of energy and blurry twinkling further evoked the image that somehow they were all giants standing ontop of the galaxy itself. All'Epha stepped in behind the rest of them, slowly closing the gateway and shutting out all sources of outside light. The room seemed to be empty barring the collected team and Chief Warlock, and it remained as such until finally a single red light shined from amidst the twilight, and was soon accompanied with a dozen more twinkling companions. His legs crossed, Eldrad Ulthuan, the greatest psyker of the Eldar (and some would argue the entire galaxy) slowly illuminated himself as he finished his meditation. The last source of light to shine were the eyes upon his helmet, whick crackled with arcane lightning.

"You have come. I was wondering when it would happen. To those of you who know of my capabilities, such a trivial matter should easily fall within my grasp, and yet it eludes me. A vapor of yesterday that permeates before me and leaves me nothing but a cold trail to follow. A song elided of all its prose and context, a beat without a melody. That is what I see when I look upon you all, that is why I have gathered you here. The exact reasoning of how is still only in its most basic construction, but the timing of it has become precisely clear to me, and it would appear that at the crux of your most recent battle your strands to fate have been cut. You have been defenestrated through the window of time and reason, transformed into discordant notes in the grand choir of destiny, and blotching out events that transpire near you. In essence, you are free. Free of destiny, free to choose or become and do anything with the proper equipment and training. Which is precisely what I intend on doing. I see within each of you the potential to defy our peoples fate to extinction, to rewrite the barren history laid before us and rise up like the glorious phoenix. To do the impossible."

"To kill Abaddon the Despoiler."

[Dop Jones]

Mo'sha immediately dropped to his knees and began to pray just at the sight of the glorious eldritch lord.

"By Ynnead, I never thought I'd be so blessed to be standing in the presence of a deity."

After a long and drawn out prayer, Mo'sha stood back to his feet.

"Your will is the command of myself and my brothers, and I will see that Abaddon will be no more, my lord."

Mo'sha reached out one hand and stepped forth towards Eldrad, wishing to engage in the Saim-Hann greeting ritual.