>>5884650

When you yourself first glimpsed the geometric web and fractural pattern that encompassed only a portion of the plans of those who seeded the stars and cultivated life as though it were their personal garden, you had used it to wipe out and scatter dozens of Hei'an Fu's black hearted and shadow formed progeny, and it had, as it has done to all who you have shown even a fraction of the fraction to, also wrought damages upon your own body through its connection to your spirit. Most minds were simply incapable of containing even a portion of a portion of the brilliant plan that guided the galactic ambitions of the eldest race. But if you had been entrusted that fragment, then it was you solemn duty to seek understanding of it. The spirit who gave it to you must've had a reason and just cause to pass it from their mind to your own, and you would seek out that reason through meditating on its geomantic schematics and its mathematical enchantment.

You begin by imagining yourself in a featureless void of storm clouds, roiling grey essence surrounding you. Then, like bolts of tamed lightning, you begin to trace in your minds eye the beginning of the circuitry that was thrust into the depths of your psyche with a cautious hand, carefully replicating the sigils as you saw them, knowing that to make a single mistake would be not only a terrible offence but create a backlash of psionic and probable energies back onto yourself that could wound even your body crafted for war across the stars

The swirling smoke obeys your will, and is alit with the web of light, the winds of the Empyrean, the waves of the great sea, the essence of the warp and the fire and moonlight within your own soul are all woven together and threaded into the string of the web as you lay its foundations around yourself, turning the grey clouds to black stone to more easily see and recognize the vastness of the ancient schematics that were implanted into your mind. Like the roots of a newly planted seed, it stretches outwards. You recognize the portion of the fragmentary plan immediately, for you used it to previously as a destructive, explosive banishing ritual etched into an iron pole that contained the weight of the heavens. The sigils begin to glow bright blue as you tilt your head and frown, the scent of copper and a sensation of warmth trickling down your lip alerting you to the strain of beholding even this portion of the plan has already put upon you, body, spirit and mind.

But you endure and breath in, lifting up your chest and filling your lungs before throwing yourself back into the sacred geometries of the web. Even the part you have already wielded in battle reveals new forms to you. Containment, shattered void, purity protocol, elemental event horizon, paradox creation, star forging. These terms and categorization and many more of their like flood your mind, and the logical nigh mechanical part of it comprehends their meaning if not their purpose intuitively
Cont

>>5884651

Each one is a portion of a portion of the portion of the fragment your were bequeathed, viewed from a different angle, distance or arrangement. The one you used with the spirit subjugating blade and the cold moonlight in your heart, you recognize instinctively as the "Containment" "Shattered Void" and "Purity protocol", the ritual connecting the first to the second which caused the third to be enacted. The containment held the paradoxical energies of the gilded flames of your soul and the moonlight gifted to your heart as they collided, Yin and Yang meeting in mutually destructive cascade of energies attempting to subjugate and destroy the other, as the discordant rather than harmonious forces of reality. Rings to hold fire and water at bay as they clashed and sought to evaporate and douse one another. Shattered void, the release of the energies as they outgrew their containment, breaking through the sorcerous and mathematical seals and the geometric sigils that formed their cage. Purity Protocol, the pure void that emerged from the broken void before unleashing the conflict refined soulfire and warp ice that had formed within the crucible of the containment grid, the purest of their kind that escaped the event horizon of the truest form of reality. The void. Nothingness. The state of mind required for true meditation. The state of mind you were in when you glimpsed and attained a fraction of real enlightenment. The void that exists everywhere and nowhere, that remains within your mind and soul, waiting to grow and expand once more to become all that is.

The partial enlightenment that awoke your psykerist abilities. A unshakeable truth of reality

The forces that plague this realm, be they material or immaterial, beasts or tyrants are results of excess and intemperance. I empower my allies who in turn empower me, The cycle is without end and beginning and with its power. These threats will be made unreal, for nothing is real but what you create and what we create is reality. A reality where rot is denied flesh, the blade denied blood, the body is denied intoxication, the mind denied its schemes, the shadow denied fear, and the flame denied its fuel.

Ah. Ah! That's it. You open your eyes and see not the web of geomantic sigils or the pattern of witch light, but poetry and code! Art and theorem! Beauty and rationality! EMOTION AND LOGIC! Understanding washes over you, as the void becomes a great sheet of paper and the fragment of the great plan becomes the ink, brushed across the boundless surface by unseen hands, explaining and detailing not only the three "protocols" You wielded unknowingly in sequence but many others. It still brings a fierce sensation of overwhelming information filling your mind when you look at it, but the strain of looking upon it, studying and comprehending it has lessened and the weight upon your mind is reduced greatly.
Cont

>>5884652

And as you lift your head and gaze across the expanse of the paper sheet that has usurped the void, you realize that even as a fragment of a fragment of a fragment, the piece of the great plan you were entrusted is indeed vast. If you were to record it physically, the scroll or tome holding it could easily reach from the surface of one world to another. Incredible. Simply awe inspiring, looking upon it for more than a breath in its entirety has stolen away your breath and transfixed your eyes! What you see has become a whirlwind of ink, as the plans within plans bleed together and take on new forms as they combined.

Containing within the void purity. Shattering the seal containing impurity. Voiding containment of pure essences. Containing within purity the void that has become impure... You blink and look away, eyes watering or else crying tears of blood. Overwhelming. Simply overwhelming. Viewing it all at once is beyond your capabilities. But viewing and meditating upon it in pieces, gradually absorbing and understanding the knowledge within the patterns ever expanding and rearranging, is well within your ability to accomplish. And with focus, you can attain something approaching competence of one of these ancient protocols. You already have grasped one of the commands born from their combination, what will be learned by contemplating one at length and embracing its truth in a form your mind can comprehend and digest easily?

Which fractural of the fragment do you decode and study, Lieren?

>Containment.

>Shattered void.

>Purity protocol

>Paradox creation

>Write in

>>5884653
>Containment

The simplest, but also the most applicable.

>>5884653
>Containment.
Self explanatory
>Shattered void.
Don’t really know what this is
>Purity protocol
Probably creates and maintains a pure state of something.
>Paradox creation
I think this is all about manifesting seemingly self-contradictory phenomena like bringing together Yin and Yang

But the one I’m interested in is:
>Star Forging

>>5884653

>Containment.

This entire thing seems to be a single process from beginning to end, though I'm sure each is useful alone in their own right.
All my guesses:
Containment to compress conflicting energies
Shattered void to release energy of the conflicting energies
Purity protocol is the empty/pure singularity resulting from the release.
Elemental event horizon is everything that is refined and escapes from the pure void? Refined soulfire and warp ice that had formed within the crucible, etc?
Paradox creation is the formulation and/or creation of the above process?
Star forging is the ignition/implementation and self fueling of the created paradox? Like a star that creates is own fuel it is a paradox that feeds of its contradiction like our burning soul?

>>5884703
Your view is a bit too narrow and completely misunderstanding how waprfuckery works. They are clearly several processes that can function and be used independently of each other, all of which were brought together to bring about a greater result. Remember we are looking at a fragments of a fragment. Despite all that I doubt we’ll see anything directly applicable to our current problems of the webway or creating ship souls, we’d have to meet the Old One for that

>>5884653
>>Containment.

>>5884653
>>Purity protocol

>>5884653
>The winds of heaven, Azyr

>>5884653
>Purity protocol
Well it is a step towards enlightenment let's so where we go!

>>5884653
>Containment.
We really need to talk to Magnus and maybe the Emperor about this stuff.

>>5884990
I think they’d care more for the Turtle the the fragment.

>>5884653
>Paradox creation

>>5884653
>write in
Ctrl+f
Search: soul
Search: soul forging
Enter

>>5884653
>Containment.
We gotta share this info with Magnus, Big E and Uncle Mal

>>5884653
Write in:
The height of foolishness is believing that these techniques are mutually exclusive and unique, that they must oppose eachother. No, much like the laws of both the Material and Immaterial each have core fundamental basics, so too will these tools of the ancient Old Ones. With comprehension of these fundamentals, understanding of each techniques will come easier and more clearly, as we will know what binds these techniques.

Currently going through the archive to reach to ongoing.
Really loving the ride.

>>5885418
Welcome journeyman, where are you at now?

>>5885424
Not that far. Fifth thread.

>>5885429
Oo, you're gonna have fun with this one then. Loads of hype threads await you.

>>5885281
I’d be shocked if it contains soul creation. It’s a fragment of the “Great Plan” not an archive.

>>5884653 #
>Containment.

File: 2nd primarch.jpg (5.24 MB, 3508x2480)

5.24 MB JPG

Hello, archive reader here. I'm so far from catching up, this quest might as well be a book for me, but it's okay, it's a great read.
Made a fanart for the Yan war arc. Outdated for you all, but still.

>>5885749
Really didn't think she was wearing pants for a minute lmao.

>>5885749
I'll never not find it funny that Dandan is horny for heavy weaponry.

>>5885763
same. lmao

>>5885749
loving it

>>5885763
>>5885845
Funny, but not intended. Guess I should edit those front stitches on her pants out.

>>5885848
No no, keep them. Let those like me with shitty vision have a heart attack and then good chuckle.

Also why the cat-face or w.e. its called on the one person?

>>5885855
>Also why the cat-face?
My style is pretty cartoony/anime. Extends to more silly expressions. It's out of place? I'm asking this because I've been trying to finish it for a long time, and when you sit on a drawing that long you get tunnel vision and stop noticing things, and you need other people to tell you.
>on the one person
That's Daiyu listening to Jinhai. I thought if I just plaster their symbols over their armor it will be clear who everyone is.
Well, people might just not remember, which is understandable. Yan war was 3 years ago.

>>5885864
Was it fucking really 3 years ago?

And no its all good and stuff, Just tickles my fancy. Thought it was his wife.

>>5885749
Man that's dope

>>5884653
>Purity protocol

Assuming this makes things pure, a great deal of things become much easier to accomplish. Like say create a soul from scratch to put in a ship that normally would have the big downside of the process being easy to subvert by chaos.
Perhaps it could destroy chaos corruption in someone or something?

>>5885749
pretty damn good

>Outdated
Doesn't make it less cool.

>>5885875
yeah

>>5884653
>>Shattered void.

>>5884653
>>Containment.

>>5885749
Holy shit that's amazing!
----


Words carried meaning, some more than others and while the Emperor's Sons listened to few words but those of their Father or closest of kin there were words even they dreaded especially given the fates of the Purged and the Shamed.... Sanction, Expungement, Redaction. Thus when whisper of such words upon Shangrala the Primarch of the Second didn't fight nor rebel; he invited. Lieren had invited the Sigillite and the leaders of the Sanction host upon his word to define what his crimes were, to explain this warrant. Were it another Brother, any other Brother Leman Russ would have refused, Malcador to even stood aside and allowed this meeting to occur with himself also present, so to was Constantine Valdor himself and finally the ever dutiful Guilliman. They met Lieren upon a lonely mountain top whose valleys had never seen light so shrouded in mist were they. A table was laid and the Hangman waited for them, greeted them in courtly custom but the atmosphere was tense.

“Lieren, you know why we are here?” Malcador spoke steadily watching the mists for any flickering shadows.

“I do Uncle, but I believe such a juncture to be foolish, a poor judgement by my Father,”

Russ felt his hand tighten around his sword at those words, Lieren had always spoken so freely with confidence even when the subjects were so dire...it unnerved him. “You confess then? He asked his voice low even as rather than sitting the Warhawk stood looking over the mountains edge.

“Confess? I suppose you could call it that but I do not believe I have committed any crime by Imperial Edicts nor gone against the Imperial Truth. I-”

Valdor spoke over the Primarch “You were trusted and you have deceived your father, you have sought to twist and change his great work.” the Captain Generals voice was not angry, it was not accusatory...but there was a hint of sadness. Lieren's smouldering eyes narrowed in amusement and he smiled like a feline aware of some great joke no others knew.

“I did tampered with the Astartes yes and I have began further genecraft projects for Humanity to spread naturally through generational inheritance-”

Valdor's memories flickered to all those oldest nightmares of the Unification Wars... he never dared consider the favoured son would someday stand among the Gene Masters of Long Night.... destined to share their fate.

“-But I do not think that is really why you are here, no. I think Father is concerned I have taken from him something all Emperor's need but only Tyrants crave so readily.”

Shocking all it was the Khan whom spoke still looking over the Mountain side. “and what. Is that?”

“A monopoly on violence and it's leash. He would no longer be the sole force steering humanity.”

The Sigillite sighed, “Will you come quietly Lieren?”

Weapons were drawn but the Sage still sat, a playful twinkle in his eye turning to Jaghatai, “I don't know...what do you think Brother?”

>>5885749
Someone posted that Laughing muppet Lieren with the weird hair bangles and grey hair and for me that just feels right.

File: 1697293257381309.gif (140 KB, 500x390)

140 KB GIF

Calling the vote now, sorry for the wait.

Containment:7

Star forging:1

Shattered void:1

Purity Protocol:3

Paradox Creation:1

Ctrl+F:1

Height of foolishness...etc: 1

Azyr:1

Total votes:16

So Lieren will contemplate [CONTAINMENT]

Writing now

>>5885418
Very happy to hear you're enjoying it

>>5885749
Absolutely beautiful, incredible work anon. I love every depiction of the characters you drew and all the details you put into them, especially their liveries and clothing/a rmor. That is one handsome Small Chen, Aruna looks godamn menacing as he should, you really captured Feng's personality and the scars he bears from being nearly eaten by a fog panther, And you also captured Jinhai's essence really well, and Yin Lei for that matter whose black eyes and grave expression really show his sheer disgust for everything Yan, and his pose really sells his dignity.

Akanksha has never been more dignified, the Tige folk cub is just adorable, Daiyu looks actually really close to my personal headcannon of her

Tao Dandan is, well herself, and you've perfectly captured the mania/ euphoria/ bloodlust she experiences whenever she is conducting her "orchestra" (don't let her discover the concept of exterminatus) and the canons she' standing atop look awesome, Dai Niu looks as tired and solemn as he should, and his age and wear and tear as a general and is nicely displayed

And can't forget my boy Lai Song in the back there!

In short, this shit slaps hard. and I love every piece of it.

>>5885788
The firestorm can't be quenched.

>>5886190
Oh I savored reading every sentence of this, this had some really good descriptions and lines

"A monopoly on violence and it's leash. He would no longer be the sole force steering humanity"
and
"I don't know...what do you think Brother?"

were my favorites

>>5886232
As you requested it

>>5887579
Didn't think I had enough room to include my thoughts of Lieren himself in the magnificent artpiece. Love how his hair fades seemlessly into the fog/ mist behind them all, like the little damage of his armor, that it is, as he prefers, effective before decorated. And I can see his resemblance to some of his brothers in his features here. Also like how he's gripping the journey about as securely and tightly as he is his Guandao.

But seriously I can hear Dandan laughing in my head whenever I glance up at this fanart, beneath the roar of artillery fire.

>>5887579
>>5887589
>Malal recognizes all characters and comments on them
It was all worth it, I have obtained the ultimate (you). I can now go back to reading the archive, content.

Hey Malal, you read any good Wuxia/Xianxia stories recently?
I’ve personally been reading some Korean wuxia stories like Reaper of the Drifting Moon.

Containment. The word alone brings to life visions of the various forms of the concept it describes. A cage holding a starved beast poked and prodded for the entertainment of the crowd, a prison cell separating a violent and remorseless criminal from the rest of society, a dam preventing the natural flow of a river gathering the water for various reasons ranging from agriculture to power generation. All sights and things you are very familiar with. Containment. The concept itself is as vast and as varied as the sky and the seas combined together, for it means many different things to all who hear it spoken or read it upon a page. Context matters, one use of contain can mean near exactly the opposite of another usage of it. And while you have personally performed many of its permutations for the common good and prosperity of your fellow man and the lands they make their homes, there are still many forms of it that you have not carried out.

The old Yan way of containing plagues with fire and flame, without a care for those who burn with the dead and afflicted only to stem contagions tide, is amongst them for you have never thought to eradicate when it is possible to cure and prevent. Unbidden, this contemplation of all of the various meanings and forms of containment you've encountered and personally carried out, fills your mind the instant you make the decision to focus your efforts on grasping the fragment of the fragment of the great plan of the first race to gaze up at the stars and wonder, that is described and filed under the term containment. And that is no exaggeration or turn of phrase, your analytic mind is well equipped for measuring the passage of time even while it is otherwise distracted or indisposed, and there was no measuring the span of time from the thought and the rush of ponderous thoughts and internal reflections. It was simply immediate. Interesting, but that is an attribute of this strange implanted knowledge for you to meditate and study on at length later.

For now what is most important is decoding the fraction of the fragment that is contained within the phrase of containment, meditating upon it and embracing the wisdom within it. Which is easier said than done. The sensation that rushes to fill the void of emotion as you get to work unraveling and studying the raw information in its countless forms and translations, is comparable to what feelings gripped your heart when you faced the worst the warp has to offer in battle, the vilest and most potent of wicked spirits. Your brow furrows as you grimace as the twisted face of the first of the damned and first fool, whose name you refuse to give sanctuary within your thoughts, and quickly the vision fades, replaced with emptiness once more as the fractural geomantic patterns spreads out from the center of your vision.
Cont

>>5887697

As it it was streaming from the center of your brow, directly between the accursed brand upon your flesh that weakens the veil between worlds wherever you walk.

Though containment itself is easy to understand, a rudimentary, basic concept that even a true simpleton could understand or a sub sapient mind could at least partially grasp, the old one's understanding of containment is nothing of the kind. It contains within itself means and methods, protocol and guidelines, locations and sites, formula and lines of code, and much more, including concepts that cannot translate it into a form that your scholarly mind, that can decrypt entire languages from minute exposure to their speakers and the workings of alien minds, is capable of understanding. The advance concepts instead appear as colors, colors are the closest to describe what your mind's eye envisions them as, partially. It could also be, somewhat, described as a optic distortion, heatwaves, but that isn't quite right, just like describing it as an undocumented, unnatural color that are so prevalent within the empyrean isn't wholly accurate. Glitches in failing auditory trace replicating equipment is another close approximation, but only as close as a lunar body is when viewed from the surface of the planet it orbits. But it is not nothing, it is something, but something that eludes even the scrutinizing, categorizing abilities of the curse given to you during your gestation pods sojourn through warp-space.

It is indescribable.

Presently. What is not understood, is only so because because of a lack of data or knowledge. A lack of experience. An absence of insight. Meagerness of the mind. All easily solved by more intensive research and deeper study, something you excel at, whether it is the haste of which you quickly grasp new skills or how capable you are at understanding the perils and passions of the hearts of others, even without the gold in your eyes.

Once you struggled to put into words what you felt for Kanzeon, as she did for you, but by continuous exposure and simple honesty, what blossomed between the two of you became revealed, despite mutual trepidation and worry that the potent and pure love that sprouted was not similarly mutual. Fear that such a thing could not exist in reality. And yet it does.

What is unknown, becomes known, by embracing it.

A human soul born from a pyre fueled by the conflagration of other souls, vast enough to inhabit stellar vessels that blot out the sun in flight. A purpose built weapon stripped of emotion upon creation to embody the cold logic a galactic war requires to be waged, embracing and teaching itself to experience those emotion so intensely that they became what many would describe as one of the most emotional and passionate men of Long-Jia.
Cont

>>5887698

A man who met with what the superstitious would describe as a sealed goddess corrupting the soil that was heaped atop her, and saw her for what she truly was, a lonely woman, terrified of isolation and of what the technology she guarded could unleash upon the world she bled upon. And whom saw in turn you for what you truly are. A man who in the face of boundless cruelty and excess chose instead the path of benevolence and prosperity.

These anomalies will in turn, reveal their truth to you, because you will not brush them off as unknowable and build your understanding by studying the foundations of the process and art of containment as inscribed within the fragment of the great plan entrusted for you to keep and guard.

It will simply take awhile and require persistence and diligent study. And like every journey it begins with the first step. So you immerse your every burning soul into the depths of a sea of knowledge revealed by a single splinter of the fractural branch of the tortoise fragment and open your eyes, gazing into the abyss of [containment] .

Your mind adapts and translates this overwhelming and sudden cascade of new information directly branding itself into the electric and chemical pathways of the grey matter of your brain as

A square drawn on the sand with ants unable to break through or cross the walls placed around them. The most basic form of containment, but looking from it both from the perspective of the squarer drawer and the square prison, as a boy with a stick and a desperate ant, makes it so much more than upturned dirt and insects unable to grasp the sudden change in their surroundings.

This exchange can be shrunk down to the beyond the microscopic level or sized up to the universal scale. Certain passages of the book of the heavens torn come to mind immediately, as well as the aeldari records of encounters with Mathoth decendant species, and your own life. And Kanzeon's and her sisters. Her actions to keep the dangerous technology from hands that would abuse it, and Mari's selfless act of freezing herself beneath the bask mountains to seal within herself a child of Na Gou. Both acts of love.

Already the contents of the Unknowable Paths, become a bit clearer to your eyes. But all knowledge, all wisdom, all ability, must be tested and confirmed.

So you take this simple process of the great plan, and put it into practice, cutting short your meditations, and once the feeling of vertigo and nausea brought about through your confrontation with this age old wisdom abates and you've brushed the dried blood from your face that ushered out of veins that erupted within your nose, eye sockets, and ears from the sheer mental strain of contemplating and just simply beholding the contents of this branch of the fragment of a plan, you put a part of what you learned from the first and lowest pillar of [Containment] into practice.
Cont

>>5887699

A golden pearl of light billows out from the center of your palm as you focus intently upon it, like water from a subterranean spring. And then, widening your eyes, you apply the mathematical formula and geometric grids you had absorbed through meditating on squares in the sand and ants trapped within them, which is the smoothest translation your Long-Jian mind can make for what you had studied just now

And grid of white blue lines, like the ice of the highest altitude peaks of the bask lands, form around it, each one a combination of minuscule gridlines constructed into precisely measured sigils, appear from nothing. They expand outwards and spread out to form a square, with panes of partially translucent effervescence between them, like glowing carbonation. The pearl of soul fire, bounces off the top of the square, tendrils and tongues bursting from it as it washes over it, but unlike anything else touched by witchfire, does not burn through it or even singe it. So you up the intensity of the flame, more or less creating a contained spirit subjugating blade or cloak of the everburning will.

It remains contained.

This square in your hand is, you realize as you turn it over and over to examine it more closely in person rather than in the realm of theocraticals, similar to the cage that holds fair Arianka. But only by purpose, not design. And while it certainly is strong, even when the mental array and formula you used to summon it into being is at this small of a scale, it is nothing compared to her prison.

But this first step, this initial result of your study of the great plan, is worth all of the strain and mental fatigue you endured learning it. For already the uses of this design are numerous and many fold.

But alas, you do not have time to take the second step, this basic understanding will have to sufifice now, you can hear Guozhi banging on the door to the isolated chamber you claimed for your meditations. You spent all "Night" studying this, and now your party is ready to carry on the hunt for the slavers.

A quarry that you're near enough to do that it would be prudent to begin strategizing your approach, with the others whom have agreed to join you in bringing them to justice for their many crimes, but the groundwork and foundations you should begin building yourself now while Guozhi tries adding shouting to "wake you"

How will you approach the slave trading hub, Lieren?

>In disguise, you can pass yourself as a member of the wicked Aeldari easily enough, especially if the lords of the stellar hunt are present here as well

>Reach out to the human victims trapped within with wind whispering, knowing there will be New Varro natives present, and gather intel with their assistance

>Guozhi's Shroud technique should be suitable to sneak inside the hub, you trust your master to get the lay of the land and return without being detected by its loathsome inhabitants

>Full frontal assault

>Write in

>>5887638
Re-watching thunderbolt fantasy and trying to find a good translation of the Water Margin.

>>5887701
>Reach out to the human victims trapped within with wind whispering, knowing there will be New Varro natives present, and gather intel with their assistance

>>5887701
>>Reach out to the human victims trapped within with wind whispering, knowing there will be New Varro natives present, and gather intel with their assistance
Followed by
>>Full frontal assault

>>5887702
Theres nothing quite like S1.

>>5886190
Loving this short, anon.

>>5887701
>Sneak in disguised as Deldar.

Just kill the lord of the ship, then work down again

The Webway, a mystery forbidden to Humanity for all it's history now open to a select few; The Second Son. But through duplicity, cunning and more than a little luck Malcador himself entered those labyrinthine halls. He walked unseen shrouded by his own power through ruined cities the size of continents, through halls reaching into infinity. Yet he saw the Aeldari in a manner few could ever claim to have witnessed; drinking, relaxing, playing strange games of cards or billiards? It was like watching a warped mirror dyed with colours bleeding beyond the normal scope. Long he had studied these xenos and through all that time he'd never been so close to them in their own den, he heard a child's laughter and the joy of a parent embracing their young...even his caged heart pounded at the doors of his stoic mind; he followed to where the child tried to lead their parent.

He entered a wraithbone town square of sorts, a smooth circle platform raised on pillars of frozen light, a shroud of folded darkness hiding this stage. He'd heard rumours, read reports but h could hardly believe his luck; Harlequins! He found himself a place to watch as even more Aeldari gathered a happy crowd where it seemed even the corsairs normally so cruel stood beside their craftworld kin in a unity he'd not though possible for the Aliens of the shattered empire.

The vale of black withdrew and he beheld the troupe within, he heard instruments which strummed the chords of his heart, listened to melodies which made his soul feel as if it were drifting in warm fair waters, but as this long performance moved forward he understood something; this was the tail of the fall and for the first time he saw a being which caused his heart to shudder from it's previous harmony; a figure of dread. The watching crowd gasped and some even hid their eyes, tears flowed and some mourned openly the figure entering from a gloom beyond the stage bringing with it light the colour of plum and bruises, a scent so sweet it caused the mouth to dry....a Solitaire. It danced and dramatically 'slew' all the others upon the stage before fading into the gloom once more laughing and shrieking at once even as a maiden was taken away by a miasma of putrid green.

1/2

>>5887932
The shroud began to close, the show clearly over. But a single light lingered upon a lone figure remained? The figure in an antlered mask reached from his prone position upward...from the backstage gloom another came... a figure shrouded in black and white patchwork flowing and ebbing like fluid hiding all it's form but for where it's head looked out of a gold lined hood. The figure wore a mask divided in two; one side burning and monstrous, the other cold and fair; both sides with golden eyes. It reached down to the fallen dancer whom offered it their crown, this new thing took it and almost floating faded back into the darkness.

Laughter resounded through all the square; the performers appeared once more to bow...all but the twin masked figure...the laughter remained and soon the crowd were weeping tears of joy, laughing. Malcador felt a cold shiver down his spine, the Aeldari were all laughing, they wouldn't stop. Their eyes bulged, spittle foamed in their mouths. The troupe were looking past the crowd to his hiding place! He felt heavy, stepping backwards and making for his preplanned exit point, the crowd had turned to him now their hysterics growing as this mania infected their very souls... swallowed the urge to laugh with them. He reached the crack he'd entered through and looked back one more time.

Now further back he saw all the town was laughing, screaming. On instinct his eye drifted upwards, he saw something in the starless void of the higher Webway; like Obsidian on blackest silk... a smile of starlight. His eyes began to weep blood and his breath caught in his chest he almost laughed as he saw strings of fate puppeting all below... he felt his facial muscles begin to twitch, to pull into a smile.

He tumbled through the crack, he was in the palace once more in a study thrown into disarray. Slowly his weathered hands pulled himself from the floor and using his desk as support he pulled himself up. But as he looked at his desk what little colour remained on his face faded.

The duel mask sat staring back laid gently over his prior work; a chuckle left his dry throat.

>>5887701
>In disguise, you can pass yourself as a member of the wicked Aeldari easily enough, especially if the lords of the stellar hunt are present here as well
>Reach out to the human victims trapped within with wind whispering, knowing there will be New Varro natives present, and gather intel with their assistance

>Write in
Ask our master to make ready an escape route so we can send the captives away while we do out thing once the cover is blown

>>5887701
>Reach out to the human victims trapped within with wind whispering, knowing there will be New Varro natives present, and gather intel with their assistance

>>5887701
>Reach out to the human victims trapped within with wind whispering, knowing there will be New Varro natives present, and gather intel with their assistance

>>5887701
>>Guozhi's Shroud technique should be suitable to sneak inside the hub, you trust your master to get the lay of the land and return without being detected by its loathsome inhabitants
it not like he can die

>>5888740
He can though

>>5887701
>In disguise, you can pass yourself as a member of the wicked Aeldari easily enough, especially if the lords of the stellar hunt are present here as well

>>5887932
>>5887933

Nice is Slanesh can smirk at Fabius, Khorne can swing his sword behind Angrons, Tzeentch can be Ahriman's familiar and summon him into the warp, then there is no reason Malal/Malice can't laugh at someone.

>>5887701
>In disguise, you can pass yourself as a member of the wicked Aeldari easily enough, especially if the lords of the stellar hunt are present here as well

>>5887701
>>In disguise, you can pass yourself as a member of the wicked Aeldari easily enough, especially if the lords of the stellar hunt are present here as well

>>5887701 #
>>In disguise, you can pass yourself as a member of the wicked Aeldari easily enough, especially if the lords of the stellar hunt are present here as well

>>5887701
Hey Malal. Do you plan on having us encounter any non-Eldar xenos at the DEldar base?

>>5890868
Would it be fair or in character if he told us? Come in Anon where's your sense of adventure

We should take some time soon to chat with out other two brothers, our dad, and looking into contacting Lorgar. We were forced to choose which one to rescue, but it is not too late to turn Lorgar from the path!

>>5891348
When you say that I don’t think you understand what Lorgar’s Problem actually is.

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Calling the vote now, sorry for the long wait, but I found out I have an allergy I didn't know about before so that was FUN

Anwyays not dead so lets get this going

Reach out to the human victims trapped within with wind whispering, knowing there will be New Varro natives present, and gather intel with their assistance:5

Full frontal assault:1

In disguise, you can pass yourself as a member of the wicked Aeldari easily enough, especially if the lords of the stellar hunt are present here as well:6

Ask our master to make ready an escape route so we can send the captives away while we do out thing once the cover is blown:1

Guozhi's Shroud technique should be suitable to sneak inside the hub, you trust your master to get the lay of the land and return without being detected by its loathsome inhabitants:1

total votes: 11

So Lieren will first reach out to the captives, to gather intel before infiltrating the slavers stronghold in disguise

Writing now

>>5887729
It is hard to top it, though I do enjoy Screaming Phoenixes half of the movie and GUNHa DONO!

>>5887932
>>5887933
always enjoy a bit of writing focused on Uncle Mal, and the way you described the harlequin, their performance and his reaction to them were wonderful, and the climax was straight out of a horror story, excellent work all around

Sorry for interruption, Malal, but since its been 30th threads now, and nobody came up with "proper" lyrics for Kind Golden Eyes, i have tried to do so myself. Im not exactly feeling good with results (i cant into rhyme and i hope i didnt really skewed rhytmh), but, here it is:
https://pastebin.com/MunQWmw5

I might try to use vocaroo next just to tell how i envision the "flow" and "melody of it... when i find a microphone

>>5891456
Was if a FUN! Allergy or something dumb?

The hidden entrance to the secluded haunt of the slaver taking Aeldari who still clung stubbornly to the cruel lifestyle and philosophy of maddened excess was a wound in the webway. A cut shaped like many of the dilapidated portions of the ancient labyrinth stretched between the realm of mortality and that of dreams and spirits, wicked, benign or opportunistic, a cleverly hidden slip into a section of webway purposefully cut away from the other paths, one of the few if not only entrances into this mercantile dock of the worse sorts that was not heavily guarded or protected with perils that slipped through the cracks that broke further through the walls of the webway into the shadow cast by the warp where the waters of the great sea lapped and spilled. It brought to mind the tortured, broken bodies of the Shangralans and New Varroican you saved from the pits and cages kept by the lords of the stellar hunt who thought to make harvest of those innocents under the protection of your watchful gaze and turn the wilderness of your home into their playground of atrocity and torment. A fresh cut cleaved through flesh down to the bone, skin, fat and muscle parted and held in place by cruel hooks of dark iron. Fashioned similarly to those barbs and needles that were purpose forged into the armor of this most wicked sect of Aeldari, so they could revel in shared agonies with their unfortunate victims.

"Grotesque" You brusquely summarize of the affront to the ancient pathway you walk, lifting up your chin and narrowing your eyes as they darken with contempt. The youngest of your entourage look stricken by the site of it, their elders enraged, Eldrad looks on with a mixture of somber disappoint and sharp disgust. Guozhi gnashes his teeth, as if the sight of the pathway held open by strange, torturous seeming implants has churned unpleasant memories from the silt left behind by his many lives

"An understatement as vast as the gulf between your lifespan and mine" Eldrad remarks, adding onto your statement as he takes a step closer to observes the gate way that trembles and shivers like mauled flesh. Unwelcomed, the memory of the smell of thickened blood, Panther saliva and the soil that wetted with both rushes up from your memories. You sigh heavily through your nose, suppressing the reminiscence of an old and unpleasant memory, that of Feng's closest brush with death, when a Fog panther pounced upon him and gave him most of the scars that cover his body to this day.

"We shall wait here?" You voice as both a question and order "I shall scout through the eyes of those trapped within that nightmarish place, see what I can gleam of the enemies positions and fortifications, and how well entrenched they are and how dangerous this approach shall be"

"Enemies" the Banshee who struggled to string a bow, who still refuses to give you her name though she knows your repeats.
Cont

>>5891528

Eldrad had taken time to explain the difference you brought into Long-Jianese lingusticis, between opponent, foe and enemy, to those of who traveled with you to learn the way Kurnous strung his bows but whom refused to even study the journey for its scholarly merits.

"I shall too lend my talents and capabilities of farsight to this endeavor" Eldrad says, supporting the suggested scouting action and making your command carry to those who hold little to no respect to you still "These cretins do delight in laying traps around themselves like they were nesting materials"

You nod as Guozhi sits down between you and holds up the staff gifted to him by kindly Carys

"I shall shroud your approach, I may be much weaker than either of you as a psyker and shangralan cultivator, but the mists of the world I have been reborn upon time and time again have infused my soul, my shroud shall cover your passage and obscure your presence" He states with an austere air as Eldrad lowers his chin in his direction, face covered by the glassy helmet he wore as you adopted your favored meditative position and sent out your mind to reach out to and touch those who were imprisoned and subjected to the vile whims of their pale fleshed captors.
_
Redmon clenched his teeth pulling and tugging on the chains that held him against the wall, not caring that they only bound him their cause they were sunk into his flesh with hooks that'd be better used fishing at a watering hole. He'd had his teeth broken down to splinters, but there was still air in his lung to spit all manner of profanity and curses the way of bad, down right rotten eggs who'd set upon his gang like lawmen straight from Perdition one night months before. His eyes were afire, even though he'd been boogered up and felt his lungs ache with every breath he took while he flailed and floundered like a fish in needing of gutting while ilk of Ol' scratch watched him with the same amusement a barn cat would the struggles of varmit.

He'd tangled with shaggy spooks and thundering birds and all the other meanness of the prairie and badlands

"Y'ALL AIN'T NO IRONBACK!" He cries out, forcing his legs to stand as he rolls his tongue to wet his mouth enough to hawk a loogie straight in the auger of this troop of the blackests of hats, "I done three rounds with that Bad Hos, y'all ain't nuffin but acorn hatchlins you no good, yellah bellied YEGGS!"

The boss of the bunch of misbegotten wolfish plain raiders' crooked grin turned even more askew as he flashed teeth like a handful of nails and with a flick like he was brushing the dust from his coatails sent that queer cat gut he'd swung his way a dozen times before, its barbed tail dragging across "Red-Rum" Redmon's bare chest, making him start a howling and twitching something fierce as the hurtin tried to drown the hating in his veins.
Cont

>>5891529

They'd torn apart his Beau and his Wheelhorse, then rearranged their bits and put them back together like a living Jigsaw. There weren't enough hurt in the world to smother all the fire in his belly or silence the grit and venom he spat. If he had to rip himself open to get his hands around their necks, he would, and he'd savor their sputtering and choking like it were the finest fire water.

But as the hurting rose and rose and blotted out any thought more complicated than killin, a voice poked around in his head, and with it relief. Like laying down in cool black spot after a long day of riding or ease one's self down into a heated bath with some respectable company. Or putting lead in the belly of a rival outlaw. He blinked, drool clogging his throat as the voice asked him, very politely and manneredly, to look at what was around him, get a lay of the land, but in much more fancy, city folk terms. So he did, cause he knew a hell raiser when he heard one, and if a stranger would help him bust him out of this twisted corral then he'd be as polite as a well broken mare, so long as his pose got him seeing that crooked smiling devil hanging from a leafless tree!
_

Curly Applegate sat as calm as could be with the youngins, trying to figure out a way to get them out of this tumbleweed of a problem, sitting in front of them so they's didn't need to look at the ugly mugs of their captors, the strangest band of outlaws she had ever had the misfortune of running into, when she felt a warmth wash from the back of her mind like the rising sun as a very gentlemanly voice politely asked if she couldn't be troubled to stand up, mosey on over to the bars of their cage and give a peak over the lock and what was beyond the bars. She did as she was asked, since the ghost or angel sent was very manneredly and asked her as a gentleman should, neither forceful nor acting like a lickfinger. She knew not to touch the bars, and tried to shut her eyes, unwilling to once more face the terrors beyond her own little piece of hell, but the gentleman spirit asked her to be strong, for the youngins, that her help would help them if she would only be brave for a moment or to.

So she looked and gawked. There was a lot of them misbegotten wandering around like ol scratches own schoolhouse...Schoolhouse, where'd they'd taken her and her charges. The warmth of the sun washing over her back became suddenly branding iron hot as that bad memory made the gentleman she couldn't see hell fired mad, but he said nothin to her as she looked out and saw them strange orange haired shaggy spooks playing with something in the cage across from her, and all manners of spooks and fearsome critters that was more awful than Ol' Scratch themselves.
Cont

>>5891530

She trembled, wanted to cry and curl up into as small as a ball as she could, but if the gentleman's ghost could spring her and the youngins, then she could be strong enough to keep herself together long enough for at least the little ones to make for the hills and get away from these black-hearted devils. So she looked, and watched, and studied, as another pair of peepers looked through hers and took account of all the meanness that she saw
_

"If I had my lead pusher, y'all be skipping to the bone orchard and straight on down ta hell, ya weasles!" White-hat Crawford spat and spit at the devils dressed in midnight, he'd been on the trail of the Redmon gang when their trail went as cold as night. He figured they'd hunkered down, lay low for a spell, after their latest tussle with that bastard Iron belly ended caused all manner of calamity, and he sure as shit wasn't gonna end up under snakes chasing Ironback. But just when he thought he'd found where they made their hideout, things got queerer and he and his posse ended up nabbed by these star devils, rustled like cattle and now were being marched through a place that made no sense to the old bull as he threatened and bullied as was his habit, hoping that by making himself a target, one of the other lawmen could slip their changes and cause enough of a ruckus for them to scatter and figure out where exactly they'd been taken and get a message out to the nearby towns of these onery bastards before they could nab and ransom any more innocent, good folk.

Then he felt a big ol roiling thunder come down over his head and heard the winds a whisper, to keep his head and take notice of all that was around him, the strange vessels and the number of bandits that were about, to really take in his surroundings instead of wasting his breath fueling hot air and bluster. He frowned, but did as he was asked, not knowing what was about him but knowing that they were in some kind of hitching station of vehicles that made the rail old rails look as primitive as a Rattle-run. He couldn't imagine what they were for, but they seemed important to the thunder over his head
_

The sights you see through the eyes of the captive only serve to further fan the fires of you rage and encourage you to free them from the imprisonment as quickly and efficently as you were capable of. But charging in and launching an assault would only endanger their lives. A delicate touch must be employed. Luckily, procuring the tell tale armor of the dark natured Aeldari was a simple task, as you had brought along a suit just in case you needed to repeat the trickery you used to great effect against the lords of the stellar hunt, and having taken the time to procure a few more from the various outposts being traded by corsairs or salvagers as you made your way to Ulthwe's gate. Enough to equip a strike team sized similarly to a patrol or returning slave taking party, which was a force capable of liberating the slaves.
Cont

>>5891532

There weren't enough battle tested Aeldari for you to be confident you could end the threat posed by this hub of the slave trader permanently, but just saving a few lives and ending a few that were deserving of execution would be more than victory enough for you.

But before that, you'd need a plan. Fortunately, several other great minds were present to shape and refine such a plan.

Which task do you carry out personally, Lieren?

>The sabotage of their vehicles, cutting off their escape and depriving them of their more dangerous weaponry

>The freeing of those prisoners who are still capable of fighting and arming them beneath the notice of their captors

>A distraction so those who can't fend for themselves can escape to the journeymen under Guozhi garrisoning the entrance you're taking into the hub

>Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out

>Write in

>>5891461
Stupid but impairing. That beard oil I got for xmas had camphor oil in it, and I mistook the affect it had on my skin for poison oak two weeks oh so back, and only realized that wasn't the case when I put some on again before going out on the town and got the same awful itch across my entire face for a second time.

Sucks ass and it is still bothering me today, but not enough to keep me from writing like it did for a few days.

>>5891460
Excellent work anon, beautiful stuff, it sounds like a legit folksong!, and I like the lore tidbit that proceeded it, especially the archivers complaints of Shangralan/ Long-Jianese being a pain in the ass

>>5891534
>Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out

We came to hang slavers, We shall cause it to be done.

Oof, Well atleast you know which one to avoid now.

>>5891534
>The freeing of those prisoners who are still capable of fighting and arming them beneath the notice of their captors
>The sabotage of their vehicles, cutting off their escape and depriving them of their more dangerous weaponry
What could be deadlier than a panther shrouded in fog?

>>5891534
>Assassination
>Sabotage of the machines.

With these two facets, the job is done.

>>5891534
>The freeing of those prisoners who are still capable of fighting and arming them beneath the notice of their captors

>A distraction so those who can't fend for themselves can escape to the journeymen under Guozhi garrisoning the entrance you're taking into the hub

>>5891547
At the cost of the lives of the slaves. DEldar are spiteful assholes.

>>5891534
>Write in
The plan shall be named 'the winds of war'

Using what assets we release the prisoners we can quietly and then take them to the vehicles whom shall be operated by the Aeldari among our group, thus granting us their armoured forces and equipment while providing an escape as well far outpacing their pursuers.

That escape is the distraction for now the enemy will be looking the wrong way for those warriors whom remained behind to strike them in the back during the confusion. We slay all we can, the enemy now forced to confront us the closer threat and those foolish whom give chase will either be struck in the back or be forced into a nice bottle neck that is the entrance

Once more the winds of war shift our forces whom stole the heavy weapons lay waste to this squalid place the enemy focusing on us within their close proximity.

Those whom survive...they will face judgement. No doubt we shall have to personally handle the leader of this den of vipers.

>>5891623
>>5891534
Supporting so Malal can write up a nice chunky update maybe with some of the deldar PoVs. We gotta make our generals proud!

>>5891534
>Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out
>The freeing of those prisoners who are still capable of fighting and arming them beneath the notice of their captors

>>5891534
>>Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out

>>5891534
>Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out

>>5891534
>Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out
>The freeing of those prisoners who are still capable of fighting and arming them beneath the notice of their captors
While they fight amonst themselves, we arm and let loose a posse of angry New Varroican

>>5891534
>The freeing of those prisoners who are still capable of fighting and arming them beneath the notice of their captors
>A distraction so those who can't fend for themselves can escape to the journeymen under Guozhi garrisoning the entrance you're taking into the hub

Our distraction can be the assassinations, just start hanging the scum from their buildings, from their thrones and now empty cages. Turn this place into a gallows while those whom cant escape flee and those whom can fight arm up. While they are freaking out about the mist strewn gallows their home has become the innocent can escape

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In an unrelated note I just realised something
>Create containment field around Aeldari Soulstone and a grow body
>The Old Ones' Tier ward might allow us to place the soul in the body if we're quick the ward protecting the operation from external influences.
naturally we'll have to do rigorous tests first to find out but it might work.

Conversely
>Create a cube trapping demons within
>Step within and flood it with naught but our own sea
>Welcome to a demi realm
>Cook'em while isolated so their parts don't go back tot he warp
>Actually start scratching at demonic ranks

>>5891982
I should say spawn it around us Lieren's personal little "Hell in a Cell"

>>5891534 #
>Assassination
>Sabotage of the machines.

>>5891534

>A distraction so those who can't fend for themselves can escape to the journeymen under Guozhi garrisoning the entrance you're taking into the hub

>Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out

Now gents i've been thinking and given I almost feel our reunion with the Great Crusade is nigh narratively Imminent given we're moving off world more and more etc. The subject being how we are clearly going to encounter the Thousand Sons and given our bond with Magnus we may well be given command of them until he is found. Now the issue at hand is obvious; the Flesh Change. Now on the surface many think it is a genetic issue but it seems a pretty basic case of a highly potent soul within a vessel ill suited for containing it. Simply put their magic is to powerful for flesh to contain and so they become what are in effect Chaos Spawn. How to solve this issue? Well that's a much more complicated thing to answer.

There is strengthening the vessel as an option, we could try some manner of limiters but that seems pretty antithetical to Big Red. The final option that comes to mind is refinement and expunging of soul scrap code so to speak.

>Strengthening the Vessel
The key to this in my opinion would be a combination of things:
1) Implants of esoteric binding script upon their bodies to effectively creating a reinforcement for the flesh.
2) A “venting” measure of psionic energy built into their armour which they can override but by default shall be on. The device acting like a ground rod for them should the warp threaten to overtake them.

>Refinement and expunging
Not a lot to be said here, proper education, psyco-contitioning and maybe a more a refined technique system so instead of their powers being free form imagination they only do such things when not in active combat, spells requiring testing before field deployment.

>>5891534
>The sabotage of their vehicles, cutting off their escape and depriving them of their more dangerous weaponry

>The freeing of those prisoners who are still capable of fighting and arming them beneath the notice of their captors
Cut off their escape and together with the Craftworlders and New Varroans we can try to exterminate the fuckers.

>>5892839
Just slap null denouncement charms on everything. Also don't Thousand Sons who have no psychic potential whatsoever also suffer from the flesh change?

The First Son stood upon a mountain ridge the grey spire of stone piecing out of the swirling mists below like an arm grasping from the milky ocean depths, he looked over the fog wreathed world of Shangrala for the first time with his own eyes. His eyes took in every detail from it's dense forests and rolling plains to the distant ocean shore, in the distance a city of neon light and sleek glass build among ancient temples and walls of stone. But his most keen observation was not one of sight, but the inborn feeling within him.... This place felt so familiar despite it's exotic features, he'd read the Imperial reports and compared them to the fables spoken by the civilian population. Dragon Toad, Ram of Rust, The Butcher's Horde, the Harlot of Yan... it was never said outright but the knew these things, he'd led his world in their extermination before the Emperor came to Caliban and the tingle in the air caused his sword hand to rest on the pommel of his blade even now; alone.

He'd not informed his brother of his arrival, not yet. He wanted to see things how they really were not the facade or courtly Face. But now he felt uneasy, he'd met many brothers already; Dorn and Guilliman he respected but they did not understand him. Russ and Angron? He respected them but they didn't trust him. But Lieren? A man whom had the Emperor's deepest trust like he, a Man whom knew the true dark of the Galaxy... like him. A man whom could hold secrets and knew the necessity of them. If any brother could understand him...it would be the Second born, how fitting indeed.

His eye twitched, a shiver down his spine. In a flawless motion his sword was drawn and he'd pivoted on his heel moving into a two handed thrust; his blade froze in the air right before his target.

Before him a figure in armour in pale Auramite, faint cream and almost like it was made of the mist itself. The Lion's eyes rose to look slightly upward as the point of his sword rested upon a tome bound to a chest plate. He looked up past the engraved armour so like his own.... he looked past the charms and medallions not doubt signifying membership to hidden brotherhoods...so like him?

He finally beheld those eyes he'd heard so much about, he felt the Aetheric microscope taking his measure, he felt the judgement behind the molten gold.

“Brother” he spoke his voice level despite the whirlwind of emotions, how had he been detected? How long had he been watched? Was there a security leak?

“Brother” Lieren answered a smile spreading over his scared face.

The Lion of Caliban didn't know how or when but he'd lowered his sword arm, he was being embraced. Everything froze for him, he'd never asked for such a thing, never expected it nor demanded it. But this, this warmed his soul in a way he never knew he'd been missing.

>>5891534
>>Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out
>>The freeing of those prisoners who are still capable of fighting and arming them beneath the notice of their captors
die drukhari

Lads...how long until we have the classic moment; the fallen pupil. The one we failed, whom we loved to much. (rewatched Kungfu Panda; Tai Lung's story is based)...is it Ezazar

>>5891534
https://youtu.be/G7RLt8zAX84
>A distraction so those who can't fend for themselves can escape to the journeymen under Guozhi garrisoning the entrance you're taking into the hub
>Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out

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Calling the vote now, sorry for the wait.

Assassination. These raiders are ambitious to a fault. Killing a few leaders will make their underlings begin infighting, making every other part of the plan that much easier to carry out:10

The freeing of those prisoners who are still capable of fighting and arming them beneath the notice of their captors:7

The sabotage of their vehicles, cutting off their escape and depriving them of their more dangerous weaponry:4

A distraction so those who can't fend for themselves can escape to the journeymen under Guozhi garrisoning the entrance you're taking into the hub:4

Winds of war:2

total votes: 16

So Lieren will personally assassinate the leaders of the owners of the hub and the visiting raiders to spark infighting, freeing those prisoners still capable of fighting back as he does so they may assist the undertaking.

Writing now

>>5891982
My boy Tesla!

>>5892875
The description of Shangrala you opened this with was magnificent, and I really liked that the Lion was able to immediately recognize the various baddies Lieren put down, and his reflections of his relationships with his brothers. And the ending of the brotherly hug really pulled on the heart strings. Excellent work anon, I heartily enjoyed this
>>5894080
Lol

The moments leading up to approach of the extra-spatial slave trading port are fraught with tension, the air electrified and pulled taught with it as you lead the party that has dressed themselves in the armor of the merchants of agony and seekers of torment, walking in the same manner as you did when you first donned this style of armor and stalked through the mists and night the day you first encountered the aeldari specials, the worst examples of them. The defenses of the stronghold, harpoons and dark light turrets swerve to track your movement, their operators dressed in the same fashion of beetle-like armor watching you, their fingers tracing lovingly the firing mechanisms of the triggers, idly imagining to press down and writ your deaths with a single twitch of their fingers before confirming if those caught in their sights were guests to their den of cruelty or malefactors seeking to justly put it to the torch.

One of the warriors who have chosen to accompany you begins to give, through body language, a detailed explanation for why you've come to the gates of this bazaar of flesh and why you have arrived on foot. The senior of the gunners, who has another Aeldari's face stretched over their helmet, prods and examines their case just by the twitches and rocking of his head and the lifting and lowering of his shoulders. The aspect warrior pauses, taking in a harsh, rattling breath through their helmet that sounds like the groans of the dying animal, having not expected to be so scrutinized. You quickly fill the gap that could be used as an excuse for the wardens of the wall to use your band as target practice, and with flowing, ethereal movements, you explain what the young and hotblooded warrior was unable to. Miming a eloquent tale of disaster and ill fortune, and the commands of your lord to retrieve new servants and playthings after their heiress expended much of their larder on a joyride fueled by a binge of narcotics and more exotic forms of intoxicant, all of which you list by name in gestures and subtle shifts in your posture.

"Huh, guess your lady must've croaked before her father got his hands on her, waste of a trueborn" The guard snorts, as the warrior you took over for lifts up their shoulders so as not to visibly relax the moment they hear their dark counterpart by their fanciful tale you had together woven "But do you really think you'll be able to purchase what your master demands without acquiring debt? Are you so foolish? Or are you just that desperate"

You wordlessly lift up a vial of pale lilac liquid, a mimicked of a combat stimulant you understand is considered quiet potent in dredges of Aeldari society. While the more senior of the warriors accompany you lift up strange crystals and satchels of powder.
Cont

>>5894784

"Oh, so that is the wares you'll trade, hn? Well, toss me a "Sampler" of it all before you leave, and I'll open the gate for your ragged band, tall and grim" The guard barks, as there is a strange noise from within his helmet, transformed by its speakers into a unwholesome slopping sounds. They're licking their lips in anticipation as the gates unravels, their razor edged panels twisting into the walls in a spiral motion, as remnants of unidentifiable cadavers fall from their air tight locking mechanisms. They had made sport of using the cruel portcullis as a means of execution and maiming.

The warrior whose story your made believable pats you on the back, sensing your rising anger. You bury it with, lowering your head as you stomp forward, adopting the swaggering gate of a high-born thug rather than a indolent youth or harmless delinquent, each step oozing with conceit and contempt, and evincing the lofty ideals of sadism and etiquette your false identity would cling to.

The moment you and the rest of the liberation force are past the gates and out of the sight of the watchful guardians atop it, you split away from one another, each other heading to one market or another to carry out the orders they had been given, some making a show of barking with laughter and playfully fighting in a way that could easily lead to crippling or fatal injuries if they were not simply pretending to land their blows, others slinking off into the rows of stalls surround by polluted air acrid with chemical scents, and others simply joined the crowds and vanished from view to sneak away. All the missions were of equal importance, but yours was particularly vital. The assassination of the leaders of the factions who held the hub in a tireless contest of intrigue and treachery, none able to claim complete ownership, and the leaders of the various raider clans who were currently docked and visiting the markets.

Cutting down a single one of these pillars would spread confusion and anarchy, but only killing one would cause a temporary upheaval before the strongest of their rivals or underlings would smoothly sit themselves upon their seat and resumed the operations they oversaw. So all of them would have to die, along with their immediate heirs apparent and those with the competency and force of will to assume their thrones so swiftly. But simply going down a list of targets and executing them would be insufficient to cause the turmoil you sought to cultivate to make freeing the prisoners and chattel kept here accomplishable. They had to be killed in a certain order to maximize the disorder their combined deaths would cause and the anarchy their sudden absence would usher in.

But before that, you had to figure out who was in power and were they hid themselves away from the ambitious masses. This was an easy enough task.
Cont

>>5894785

For various reasons, these Dark Aeldari have a fondness and unusually trusting of the facade you present to them while acting as their misbegotten ilk. Some are attracted to the stern and unyielding front your present, others fascinated by the apathetic cruelty you radiate in the role, and many notice the competence and quiet humility that marks you as an underling they could only dream to master. All it takes is momentary study of each mark you approach, in their equivalent of opium dens or as they lounge about, showing off the newest weapons or "pets" in their collection, for you to figure out which approach would lower their guard, loosen their lips and what falsities you could offer to make them tell you what you need to know, through idle gossip, hushed conversations about wild ambitions they are too cowardly to achieve, or rowdy boasting of their wicked deeds that turns to threats and broken limbs when you mock their "Insipid understanding of misery and the process of extracting from a soul the finest vintage of anguish". And the beatings you met out serve a purpose, as it impresses those higher up on the ladder of their society, which allows you to squeeze from them more valuable and pertinent information, as they never realize they are being taken advantage of, instead lounging in the simpering praise you shower them with. But if they were not so conceited and self centered, they'd realize relishing the compliments you heap upon them is the same as bathing in raw sewage, as masterfully you weave insults and condemnations through innuendo and turn of phrase within every lauding word and adoring applause.

In the time it takes for incense to burn, you've created a mental dossier of your targets and left your unwitting informants none the wiser of your intentions. To them, you were just a passerby they briefly were entertained by or conversed with before as suddenly as they entered their attentions, they vanished from them. And the vapid wastrels and sadists do not give a second thought to what they told you once you've departed from their notice, though some do ask of you. Mostly the ones who would give over their hearts to a stranger with a demeanor as harsh and cold as a knife's edge. Or at least what passes for a heart amongst these blackhearted rogues.

Fortunately for you, each of the key figures whose deaths will throw this most monstrous market, also happen to be keeping those prisoners you had sought out, knowing they would be capable of taking up arms and fighting back against their tormentors once they freed. Some were holding more prisoners and slaves than their counterparts, and others were in control of vital systems of the hub or held the leash of dangerous individuals or disciplinary forces that kept said individuals in line and relatively docile.

Cont

>>5894786

Which Drukhari leader do you assassinate first, Lieren?

>Meb'scian Niss, the witch in charge of collecting the agony of the various slaves kept in the hub and breaking the wills of the more willful and rowdy prisoners. She holds most of the prisoners who could stage an armed revolt against their captors, and has held her position for sometime. Her death would create a power vacuum her lesser will rush to fill, as she provides a necessary service and as such holds much sway over the rest of the hub

>Stollaire the beastmaster, One of Cearnarch's children, whom you saw die when you lead the attack that removed the lords of the stellar hunt from Shangrala and saw them all put to the sword. He is controlling the alien beasts in the menageries of the nobility. and killing him a second time will incite a retaliatory strike from his kinsmen on whoever you frame for his death. And you must also ask him, how he has returned to life with the same face he wore when you impaled him on a war banner

>Yzura the "Little person", a title that must be a mistranslation between Aeldari and Long-Jian, a twisted soul even amongst his kin who, like the Yan, makes sport of mutilating and mutating the form of his victims. He creates the patchwork enforcers that stalk the alleyways and rooftops of the port of pain, and holds the second largest collection of slaves still capable of holding a weapon and killing scum like himself. His death, you're told, would as one of his aids put it "Cause chaos that'd make the fall seem like a bit of drunken debauchery"

>Cimigh Noct, the head of security overseeing new arrivals and checking the cargo of every vessel that docks here, and who is the main obstacle for the sabotage teams mission of destruction that would would greatly reduce the combat effectiveness of the various raiding parties. He also holds, you're told by a close confidant of his, override codes for the personal armories of the various noble houses who make their permanent residence here.

>Write in?

>>5894787
>Cimigh Noct, the head of security overseeing new arrivals and checking the cargo of every vessel that docks here, and who is the main obstacle for the sabotage teams mission of destruction that would would greatly reduce the combat effectiveness of the various raiding parties. He also holds, you're told by a close confidant of his, override codes for the personal armories of the various noble houses who make their permanent residence here

We gotta get things going quickly, after them it's the beast master, we frame Yzura for the murder so the enemy take out one another's combat forces before we move to the last and free those left

>>5894787
>Cimigh Noct, the head of security overseeing new arrivals and checking the cargo of every vessel that docks here, and who is the main obstacle for the sabotage teams mission of destruction that would would greatly reduce the combat effectiveness of the various raiding parties. He also holds, you're told by a close confidant of his, override codes for the personal armories of the various noble houses who make their permanent residence here.

>>5894787
>Meb'scian Niss, the witch in charge of collecting the agony of the various slaves kept in the hub and breaking the wills of the more willful and rowdy prisoners. She holds most of the prisoners who could stage an armed revolt against their captors, and has held her position for sometime. Her death would create a power vacuum her lesser will rush to fill, as she provides a necessary service and as such holds much sway over the rest of the hub
after this we hit the armouries, kill the beastmaster and blame Yzura

>>5894787
>>Stollaire the beastmaster, One of Cearnarch's children, whom you saw die when you lead the attack that removed the lords of the stellar hunt from Shangrala and saw them all put to the sword. He is controlling the alien beasts in the menageries of the nobility. and killing him a second time will incite a retaliatory strike from his kinsmen on whoever you frame for his death. And you must also ask him, how he has returned to life with the same face he wore when you impaled him on a war banner

And use his death frame Yzura.

Stollaire's death retaliatory raid on a holder of a large assortment of combat slaves means chaos in the streets, dragging in Cimigh Noct who will have to try to establish some sort of order.

>>5894787
Ok Gent's i've thought about this, we can likely get #1 really quiet. The second will likely cause the other two notice something is up. The third will blow the lid meaning we may well have to face the last upfront. So I propose this order of events plus caveats;

Start with start with
>Cimigh Noct, the head of security overseeing new arrivals and checking the cargo of every vessel that docks here, and who is the main obstacle for the sabotage teams mission of destruction that would would greatly reduce the combat effectiveness of the various raiding parties. He also holds, you're told by a close confidant of his, override codes for the personal armouries of the various noble houses who make their permanent residence here.
Him gone will allow our other people to get to work easier but it also means we'll have control of the armouries and maps...control of those nasty front defences.

Now step two will be the assassination of
>Stollaire the beastmaster
We will frame
Yzura the "Little person"
This sicking the Stellar hunt remnants on them

While those forces duke it out we eliminate
Meb'scian Niss
Jumping her before she can make use of the suffering but more importantly getting us access to her captives.

We then clean up the battle between Yzura and the Hunters. Before retreating and using our control of the defences from our first kill to cover our retreat.

>Write in
Something massively important here is mind reading/ripping memories from this bastards so we can not only find the path they took to New Varro but also possibly expand our cartography of the Webway specifically to become aware of how to find the Black City...an added bonus being we'll become even better at blending among the Dark Eldar. Such information will also expand our currently limited insight into the wider galaxy.

>>5894787
>Cimigh Noct, the head of security overseeing new arrivals and checking the cargo of every vessel that docks here, and who is the main obstacle for the sabotage teams mission of destruction that would would greatly reduce the combat effectiveness of the various raiding parties. He also holds, you're told by a close confidant of his, override codes for the personal armories of the various noble houses who make their permanent residence here.

>>5894787
>Cimigh Noct, the head of security overseeing new arrivals and checking the cargo of every vessel that docks here, and who is the main obstacle for the sabotage teams mission of destruction that would would greatly reduce the combat effectiveness of the various raiding parties. He also holds, you're told by a close confidant of his, override codes for the personal armories of the various noble houses who make their permanent residence here.
Ensuring our enemies are not fully armed and their security is sabotaged is a good first step.

>Deldar thirsting after disguised Lieren
One time was happenstance, but this is the start of a pattern. Maybe we could exploit this somehow? Could be a great way to coax information out of some lonely noblewomen later, if we can swallow our disgust and play along for long enough.
The though of Lieren somehow having a circle of Deldar admirers who never realise his identity is hilarious to me.

>>5894787
>Cimigh Noct

Ease the others parts.
Hit the beast master, Frame the Little person.

Which would cause so much fun.
Then we hit the witch and suddenly we have two armed mobs with aeldari weaponry going to town on the slavers

>>5894787
Take out first
>Cimigh Noct, the head of security overseeing new arrivals and checking the cargo of every vessel that docks here, and who is the main obstacle for the sabotage teams mission of destruction that would would greatly reduce the combat effectiveness of the various raiding parties. He also holds, you're told by a close confidant of his, override codes for the personal armouries of the various noble houses who make their permanent residence here.
This sound like the man that keeps everyone here in check and calm, avoiding to do dumb firefights in the slave market and dark eldar outpost/minor settlement.

And i fully agree with taking out Stollaire next and putting the blame on Yzura. Then last Meb'scian. We are eliminating their heirs and close liutenants too, so it will help immensely. Beyond that yes i also agree with using the Lotus Sceptre or our miens for see what they have in their minds for us to use, its completely justified and moral to do so here. That poor cow was far more worthy to not be touched by the Lotus Sceptre than this insects, fitting since they were armor that looks like beatles.
And of course once Stollaire has been taken, his informations will prove useful to us on why he managed to return to life with his ugly mug. And if his kabal has some nefarious plan like attacking Shangrila again (i hope they are ready to die again on our world moon when the sisters fire on them and give us free equipment and resources), we might learn something about it.

>>5894787

>Cimigh Noct, the head of security overseeing new arrivals and checking the cargo of every vessel that docks here, and who is the main obstacle for the sabotage teams mission of destruction that would would greatly reduce the combat effectiveness of the various raiding parties. He also holds, you're told by a close confidant of his, override codes for the personal armories of the various noble houses who make their permanent residence here.

Then our favorite boy


>Stollaire the beastmaster, One of Cearnarch's children, whom you saw die when you lead the attack that removed the lords of the stellar hunt from Shangrala and saw them all put to the sword. He is controlling the alien beasts in the menageries of the nobility. and killing him a second time will incite a retaliatory strike from his kinsmen on whoever you frame for his death. And you must also ask him, how he has returned to life with the same face he wore when you impaled him on a war banner

>>5894787

>>5895104
>>5894843
Supporting the order and especially the write in, we need as much data as we can get.

>>5894787
>>Cimigh Noct, the head of security overseeing new arrivals and checking the cargo of every vessel that docks here, and who is the main obstacle for the sabotage teams mission of destruction that would would greatly reduce the combat effectiveness of the various raiding parties. He also holds, you're told by a close confidant of his, override codes for the personal armories of the various noble houses who make their permanent residence here.

>>5894787
>>Yzura the "Little person", a title that must be a mistranslation between Aeldari and Long-Jian, a twisted soul even amongst his kin who, like the Yan, makes sport of mutilating and mutating the form of his victims. He creates the patchwork enforcers that stalk the alleyways and rooftops of the port of pain, and holds the second largest collection of slaves still capable of holding a weapon and killing scum like himself. His death, you're told, would as one of his aids put it "Cause chaos that'd make the fall seem like a bit of drunken debauchery"

>>5894787
>Write in?
Mind jack these fools

(im only voting for the write in so it's odds are better since it requires half the votes)

>>5894843
I'll support this.

>>5894843 #
I'll support this 2.

>>5894843
Write in support and the plan

File: 1622080877184.jpg (4.59 MB, 2480x3508)

4.59 MB JPG

Calling the vote now, sorry for the long wait.

Cimigh Noct:12

Meb'scian Niss:1

Stollaire the beastmaster:

Yzura the "Little person":

Multi step plan:5

Mind reading/ ripping: 6

total votes: 17

So Lieren will begin this party by stalking and taking down Cimigh Noct, who is trusted to run security for the slave port and has authority and privileges even his supposed masters do not know about.

>>5894937
They want that funky, chunky, and hunky mon'keigh

And of all the names, all of the faces, all of the stations, seats and offices you've collected on the kill list in your mind, Cimigh noct, the gatekeeper and head of what stands in for the official guard of this nameless port of decadence and cruelty, is amongst those noteworthy individuals and local leaders or deeply rooted aristocracy who act as floodgates complete anarchy the "pillar of the community" whom most of the trade port and slaver dens' peace and tranquility who is most responsible for keeping troublemakers in line and preventing overt power grabs. Notably unambitious amongst his kind, Noct is an old raider who has taken his aged wisdom and experienced as a smuggler and trafficker of flesh and suffering and used it to establish for himself a relatively peaceful retirement in the outpost, resting on the riches and privilege his dark deeds and wicked works have earned him. But age and idleness has made him no less dangerous.

He only does not covet his so called master's seats of powers, content with the hidden authority they grant him with careless waves of their hands, and his age has taught him just how treacherous servants can be and how even the smallest of powers and rights can awaken murderous greed in otherwise tranquil hearts. Humility, loyalty and contentedness are rare traits in deed amongst his dark breed, but Noct has somehow managed to groom and cultivate himself a truly loyal foundation of immediate underlings. A wise move for an unnoticed tyrant, who maintains his powerbase by enacting tariff laws, curfews and banishments and duties technically not the purview of his station because his expertise and loyal supporters keep the peace and are thus entrusted and commanded by higher edicts to take temporary possession of the means of transport of every slaver, raider and rogue torturer who comes to ply their ill gotten wares or living cargo here beneath the unwholesome blood red light of a dying star. And he is thus the main obstacle for the teams of saboteurs sent to destroy or otherwise cripple those transports and their heavy weaponry.

Without their weapons of destruction and means of escape, many of the otherwise sedated aeldari scum will begin to panic, and the potential toll of innocent lives they could exact in their rabid defense of their own wretched lives will be greatly reduced and any survivors will be unable to raid as readily as they had before. Communities across planets will be spared the lash of their whips with Noct's death. But Noct is no noble fattened on the toil of his so called lessers. Noct is a warrior who has chosen to retire to a measure of peace, where he can without tiring himself satiate his yearning for pain and misery, and he is no fool. Besides having raised himself a force of rarely loyal subordinates to keep at bay the more ambitious beneath his command, Noct has planned for the inevitable betrayal of those he himself serves.
Cont

>>5898770

So he has, without alerting any of those who think they hold his leash, wrapped tightly around his own hand the leashes of their soldiers by covertly giving himself override codes for even the smallest of noble households who make this hive of scum and villainy their permanent residence. Codes you could use to great effect arming a slave uprising or simply depriving your enemies of their own arms. If his death was put aside in favor for the execution of one the other enforcers of law and order keeping the station running smoothly with only the occasional back alley murder, he could commandeer the entirety of those armories and equip his forces and create a militia of professionals who would not begin backstabbing and killing one another. A militia that would use the vehicles he guards, with or without the permission of their owners, and be lead by a man who is uniquely and supremely adept at patrolling and controlling the port's streets.

He has to die first, to defang the other threats and allow those tasked to sabotage the greatest of those fangs to do so unimpeded.

Pulling a clock made from the flayed skin of a beast that the merchant you "haggled" it from assured you was not taken from a sapient being, you lower your profile and tuck in your shoulders as you follow the mental map you've made through the slums and alleys directly to the main entrance of the station, where Cimigh Noct makes his office and most of the vessels that visit here dock and offload their cargo, living or not.

You did not bring a weapon, for any you carry would stand out as being of foreign make and alien design or would be marked with the seals of certain factions within the station itself. But that was no obstacle. The first of the officers beneath Noct whom you would personally and permanently subdue would provide you with satisfactory armaments.
_

"A curious distraction, I did not know there were breeds of mon'keigh who would so readily part with their lives that they would wager them on a game. But I suppose this is a sign your species is still evolving, if an offshoot of it can innately sense how little they are worth from cradle to grave" Cimigh Noct mused idly, amusedly twirling the primitive's firearm around his finger by the guard over its firing mechanism, a crude trigger, while the sole survivor of the demonstration he asked to be provided to him and strong-armed their owner to acquiesce in donating him what was required for the demonstration in bodies and tools.

The dead lay strewn upon the floor of his personal quarters, permitted to wear their traditional garb and personal clothes to make the whole affair feel more authentic, each of them having a hole through one side of their heads and a larger gape on the other, what meager brains they had splattered across the razor edged glass tiling, reflecting their expressions in death beautifully inside of their panes as well as the pool of blood turned pale with the admixture of cerebral fluid

>>5898773

Though the burn marks from the powdered igniting charges did certainly mar the display. Noct decided he'd leave them like this for a time while he drank in the agony of the age withered survivor, the apparent alpha of the pact he had taken to indulge in his curiosity of their barbaric customs, glared at him with murderous intent that could almost rival that of a natural born infant. Lip curling cruelly, Noct inspected the revolving chamber of the gun, leaving his pet to bite at the gag stopping his offensive wailing in the crude and unpleasant language his kind spoke as he reflected on the event and relished in reminiscence. He knew the game had been a farce, he expected them to cheat, but not that they'd cheat to preserve the life of the oldest amongst them. Usually in primitive societies, no matter the species, it was the young who were favored, yet these dust covered and sun-baked Mon'keighs risked excruciating torture to save the lives of the one amongst them who seemed ready to keel over and give his last breath with small encouragement.

"Another round?" Noct barked with laughter, shaking the crude weapon in his hand in the tear filled eyes of his captive "Perhaps we should fill every chamber this time and use younger specimens, Hmm?"

Noct laughed as he watched the Mon'keigh squirm at his bonds, trying feebly to break free to strangle him, as if such a thing would not be gift to him, it has been too long since he's felt his lungs burn and cry out for air and even if allowing a mon'keigh to wrap their hands around his throat wouldn't have any of the danger or thrill of an Ork Nob trying to crush his spine through his armor, it'd at least spice up this otherwise droll evening. Maybe he'd prepare him a drink made out of the carcasses of his packmates, perhaps they were his own offspring? Oh how delightful it would be if they were!

But as Noct reclined in the day bed with needles pocked through its cushioning made out of still squirming skin, a certain, familiar unease settled of his mind. He had honed his paranoia well over his long, storied life, and had refined his survival instincts to be aware even when there was no obvious threat to his life. A lesser Aeldari wouldn't notice anything was wrong in times where Noct was cautious without apparent cause. And a lesser Aeldari died. His gazed flicked back to his new plaything, and quickly determined they were not the source of his sourceless wariness as he tapped the barrel of the primitive weapon against his chin in thought, trying to place the origin of this sudden onset vigiliance.

"Ah" He gasped quietly, lips thinning as he rose reluctantly from his lounge "It is too boring of a day. Too quiet. No reports of brawls or escaped slaves in the docking quarter, no district in need of suppression, and no ambitious child trying to join the ranks of my chosen. Curious. And Curiouser. This day is too peaceable, too ordinary. No interruptions. No distracting orders to follow. Just"
Cont

>>5898775

He paused, as the quiet around him settled and grew smothering.

"Silence" He hissed through his teeth as he tossed the primitive tool away and rose fully to his feet, eyes sharp and expression cold "I will return shortly to resume our fun, pet, but first I must away to make certain this threat I sense is not directed towards my person"

And so he left, arming and armoring himself as his panic rose beneath his unchanging expression of cold disinterest. That there were no obstacles in his way on heightened his senses and put him further on edge. And because of it, he was not all surprised when the power failed, and the lights began to dim, and he heard nothing. No screams of agony, no subtle reports of splinter rifles, no shriek of Baleblast, fusion pistol, or heat lances, no crackle of klaives or snap of agonizers. No footsteps. No breathing. No signs of life besides the ignorable sobbing of the distractions he permitted in his otherwise chaste and temperate command structure. To keep his underlings sharp and cut off some forms of poisoning as one of the possible threats to him in his day to day business.

All things were still, and were soon to be dark. He frowned, separating his demiklaives as he continued into the gloom, the artificial senses it provided unnecessary as his own pain heighted awareness allowed him to feel all that was around him even as he would have been blinded oracularly.

This was too perfect to be the work of the ascendant wych cult, too quiet to be the handiwork of the fleshcrafter or recent arrivals, and to unannounced for it to be any of the kabals. This was an alien threat. But what sort? Couldn't be mon'keigh, at least not the sort that he had recently come into possession of, and it certainly was not the brutish orks, as he made it clear any who brought or sought to purchase that misbegotten race to HIS station would be summarily and publicly executed, noble or not. It had taken him ages to clear at the last infestation and.


Distant, through the circulating air. Fresh blood. Aeldari blood. Chemical vapors burning. Power field. Liquid Toxin decaying in bare atmosphere. Threat. Danger

He sidestepped, trusting his instincts, as a large metal ball formed out of one of the cleaving doors he had installed for his own amusement, crushed and compacted but with the razor edges still jutting out of it came whistling down the corridor leading to his private estate. None of the traps he had placed here would matter if the lights had already gone out, he realized calmly as the large metallic sphere came to a stop several yardages behind him, bouncing once as it hit the floor, ruining its mirror-like finish. That was either the handiwork of a very large ork or a very powerful telekinetic.
Cont

>>5898777

He had every psyker that was brought to the station "De-clawed" for very much the same reason he did not permit orks within its isolated bubble, the infestations they caused were just irritating at this point in his life.

That meant, unless one had slipped by or he vastly underestimated the protein intake of the average Kabalite or trueborn whelp, this threat wasn't native to his domain. Mentally uplifting himself with praise, he turned to face the darkness the ball of death had been launched from and leapt into the air, flipping over a sudden torrent of witchfire that erupted from...seemingly nothing. A psionic field cloaking the senses? No. His opponent was simply just that good. A youth expression of excitement cut itself across his pale face. Interesting.

Activating his demiklaives he righted his posture and sauntered forward, bashing aside a....sharpened stick. He did not pause to consider it, as the change in air pressure and rush of wind approaching him told him, though he heard no footsteps, that he was being charged by some great, lumbering alien.

He flicked up his twin klaives and blocked reactively, surprising himself that he did not move to strike out against whatever has probably undone cycles of frustration and toil to craft himself so many loyal lackies. But he soon understood his instinctive reasoning for defending rather than attacking. A large palm, primate in fashion, thrust out at him and sent him skidding on his heels , nearly back to the impact sight of the metal ball that same hand had hurled at him like so much of its owner's own feces.

"Mon'keigh?" he questioned, in disbelief as he smelled that all too familiar aroma of that particular genealogy of primitive and was unable to say more as he lashed out defensively, swinging his twined klaives in opposite horizontal paths as a leg shot out, aiming for his head, rocketing upwards with enough strength and speed behind it to separate it from his shoulders.

His attacker and he parted like mating snakes after an exchange of blows that were ultimately blocked, deflected or feinted by both parties.

"Cimigh Noct" The shadowed giant spoke in perfect Aeldari, eyes suddenly shining like molten gold as they stood and revealed themselves at last, casting the shadow they had once hidden in over Noct entirely "All of your men are dead, and you shall be joining them soon"

"At least your thorough, and frighteningly efficient" Noct remarked, noting how the oddly overgrown mon'keigh spoke purposefully without an aristocratic airs or pompous accent, and instead chose to sound like a yokel while retaining an elegant timbre to his words. He was too comfortable speaking their language,

"Your death has more purpose than theirs" The giant Mon'keigh with literal eyes of fire said calmly as they adopted a stance unfamiliar to noct but was closest to some of the more exotic fighting styles practiced by his kin who hid in their craftworlds, but he did not attack
Cont

>>5898778

"It shall be as painless as I am capable of delivering, for no creature deserves to suffer, even one as repugnant as you and your creed."

Noct's smile grew larger with every passing moment. He shouldn't agree with this freak of mon'keigh nature but, he felt at peace. He was going to die here, even though the mon'keigh seemed unarmed, he just intuitively accepted his impending demise as fact and didn't question it

"Bold words for a primitive, let us see if you fight as fluently as you speak, mon'keight" He barked with laugher, taking off his helmet and tossing it aside dismissively, "Let us dance a dance of blades and agony, primitive"

"Then come, break yourself against my fog panther style!" The mon'keigh bellowed back, as Noct noticed a gleam of a blade held behind his back. The hand he thrust like it was a spear wrought of metal and that impacted on his armor as if it were, was a distraction.

Klaives sung together as the mon'keigh launched his true attack, lashing out a klaive with a move that was an improved replica of one he taught his most talented understudies, their dark energy crackling and roaring to life as he caught it between his twin klaives. And was sent back with a hard stomp to his groin region. Gasping he rolled to the sided, and barely avoided being impaled to the floor as he flipped back onto his feet, threw one klaive forward, gave a defiant roar and charged as the Mon'keigh abandoned his stolen weapon and turned to face him, a calculating expression on his scarred face.

Warp ice spread around him, and each of his fingers became a dagger of ice as he ducked low and rushed forward, catching the still active klaive between his fingers with an artful use of telekinesis.

Noct felt like a boy again! This may be his last dance! But what a dance it would be!
_

"Sssshutch Fffffthun" Noct groaned weakly as he lay, literally disarmed, on the floor beneath you. He had lasted longer than you had anticipated, you had underestimated his level of skill and tenacity somewhat. The rumors and hearsay surrounding him did not do him justice.

"If only you were born upon the craftworlds, Cimigh Noct" You remark sadly, as applying pressure with your foot, you crush his head beneath it and end his pain, his entrails spilling out from his armor where it and his stomach had burst from repeated, bare knuckled strikes to his midsection "Perhaps in such a life, you're talents would've had meaning beyond satisfying your own sick desires"

Sighing, you clap your hands thrice and bow your head, the carnage and structural damage surrounding you ruining the needless grandeur of Noct's former stronghold, making it look more a ruin than a palace.

You frown as you brush the blood from the cut upon your cheek, sealing it with a wisp of gilded fire. It is not deep enough to leave a scar, but even amongst the Aeldari, there are few who could land a strike upon your person.
Cont

>>5898783

Invading the personal quarters of the now dead Noct, you find a New Varro lawman, by the name of Crawford and what must've been his posse, laid out around him in a circle, all dead by self inflicted gunshot wounds.

"Rest, elder, you have struggle enough this day" You console as you root through the personal effects of the deceased and quickly figure out the logic behind where he hid his backdoor access codes, finding them in the records detailing the geneology of each of the noble houses living on the station, hidden in a cipher that is unlocked by re-arranging the names of parent and child and removing characters from their names based off the page detailing their demise. A puzzle that speaks of Noct's boldness in life.

"Like hell I will, ya hollering ape!" The old man wails over the bodies of younger men, who had followed him and trusted him into a close replica of hell itself "These Star devils killed my deputies! I'll hang every last one of them from the tallest gallow I can build, I'll rip them apart with my own two hands! They got women folk and children down their in cages! You ain't laying me to bed, gimme my six shooter, with or without you, I'm ridin'!

He is wounded, and exhausted, yet can still summon anger enough to not question why you, of clearly non new varro heritage, is speaking his language. A distant explosion shakes the foundations of the building. The saboteurs have began their work.

What is the next stage of your plan, Lieren?

>Stollaire's death. A hunter of suitable skill, even one as depraved as he, attains a certain awareness of danger and instincts and senses sharper than their fellows. The spawn of Cearnarch, whether they choose to escape or warn others, will make the news of Noct's death spread quicker than it otherwise should.

>Yzura's death. He is the secondary supplier of law and order and controls a menagerie of creatures far more deadly than the average Aeldari Raider. And from what you understand of his profession, he is something of a healer. The loss of all illusions of control and peace in the station, as well as the demise of the foremost medical professional, will surely panic the populace.

>Niss' Death. Crawford's colorful words have reminded you that you can't stop a New Varro man from fighting if they wish to fight, so you must prevent the early beginnings of an uprising, by personally taking command of those slaves who are still capable of fighting, while also causing a power struggle directly after removing the pillar keeping the rest of the factions in check.

>Treating Crawford and freeing the newly arrived slaves, so they are not helpless, but ordering them to stay put in Noct's palace. It is the most well defend part of the port by far, even in spite of your battle with its master and earlier weakening of those same defenses

>Write in

>>5898786
>Yzura's death. He is the secondary supplier of law and order and controls a menagerie of creatures far more deadly than the average Aeldari Raider. And from what you understand of his profession, he is something of a healer. The loss of all illusions of control and peace in the station, as well as the demise of the foremost medical professional, will surely panic the populace.

>>5898786
>The huntsmen, Framing Yzura.

Maintain the plan.

>>5898898
Inform Crawford that we are freeing the other slaves and will send them here.
If he wishes to have more of his people slaughtered, pick up his six shooters and run at them.
If he wants to win, stay put and prepare.

>>5898786
>>Treating Crawford and freeing the newly arrived slaves, so they are not helpless, but ordering them to stay put in Noct's palace. It is the most well defend part of the port by far, even in spite of your battle with its master and earlier weakening of those same defenses
>Stollaire's death. A hunter of suitable skill, even one as depraved as he, attains a certain awareness of danger and instincts and senses sharper than their fellows. The spawn of Cearnarch, whether they choose to escape or warn others, will make the news of Noct's death spread quicker than it otherwise should.

>>5898786

>Yzura's death. He is the secondary supplier of law and order and controls a menagerie of creatures far more deadly than the average Aeldari Raider. And from what you understand of his profession, he is something of a healer. The loss of all illusions of control and peace in the station, as well as the demise of the foremost medical professional, will surely panic the populace.

>>5898786
>Yzura's death. He is the secondary supplier of law and order and controls a menagerie of creatures far more deadly than the average Aeldari Raider. And from what you understand of his profession, he is something of a healer. The loss of all illusions of control and peace in the station, as well as the demise of the foremost medical professional, will surely panic the populace.

>>5898898
>support

>>5898786
>Stollaire's death. A hunter of suitable skill, even one as depraved as he, attains a certain awareness of danger and instincts and senses sharper than their fellows. The spawn of Cearnarch, whether they choose to escape or warn others, will make the news of Noct's death spread quicker than it otherwise should.
We frame Yzura as if this is an uprising.

Make sure for the love of the mists we actually use our memory stealing, we need more data be it the hunter paths, key locations or anything.

>Treating Crawford and freeing the newly arrived slaves, so they are not helpless, but ordering them to stay put in Noct's palace. It is the most well defend part of the port by far, even in spite of your battle with its master and earlier weakening of those same defenses
Specifically tell him we need him to stay here because it's about to hit the wall, the innocent need somewhere to weather that storm before evac is ready we need him to be that anchor. More will be coming both good and bad

>>5894843
>>5894787
Supporting, we were so close last time! Lotus sceptre will not be forgotten!

>>5898786
>Mfw we end up revered by the Drukhari as some form of Great Tribulation for if we arrive to end them they have surly done such things worthy of it feeding their ego even more. All hoping to one day be the one whom defeats the Shadow of Judgement.

>>5899156
Support

>>5899156
Seconding

The heresy was here and the Galaxy was burning, Brother slew Brother and a Father wept for a shattered dream. The galaxy hung in the balance of a titanic conflict in a not within it's bound nor within the realm of the warp but a crossroads which took the form of a Black City. Loyalists and traitors strew the never walked upon streets, two brothers clashing in a battle so apocalyptic truth was end in two by their whims.... The Emperor still fighting to the duelling sons.

Lieren's blade was broken in the claws of the Warmaster, from a shimmering portal of golden water another took it's place, his armoury of Inverted Deamon weapons slowly running dry as the chosen of chaos weathered the storm of the panther's blows. Things were not going well and the Second Son knew it and he was not battling to win but rather to buy time.... until the Warmaster struck him with a secret so terrible the Sage's composure broke, golden fire and inky black smoke bellowed from him, sheer unrelenting fury, the rage of a father of millions, the unfathomable sorrow most could only bare in nightmares.

The words pounding in his black smoke wreathed mind; “By now Shangrala will be a memory; I ensured it.”
-

1/?

>>5900774
Across the stars and through the debris of hundred of warships the Misty cradle of Shangrala was quiet, the Traitors had finally after a decade broken their defences and their ships were moments from conducting Exterminatus. The people of the world looked up in quiet fear... but acceptance they knew it was over but they would not dignify the Great Enemy with their terror no matter their ploy.

Emperor Long-Jia Cao great grandson of the founder Long-Jia Jinhai himself stood upon the Balcony of his palace turned bunker patching himself into the world wide radio network from ages past... something the Traitors had not considered to block.

“You have all no doubt heard the monologue of these traitorous dogs, the tale they spin of how our world should have been damned oh so long ago, that Lieren our Guardian has failed us.... they hope to make you despair and fall to the dread of oblivion... but I tell you now-”

His eyes raised to the sky which glowed murderous red as beams of light began to fall from the heavens themselves.

“-Let us give him our thanks, let us not fall into the night screaming...let us sing our farewell”

He could feel the temperature rising as his world turned white; he sung.
-

Liberty's wreak lay in a crater amid a sea of ruined daemon engines her flickering form smiling as she swept fibreoptic hair aside.

“Pops it's been a helluva ride, thank you for my second chance and I can't thank you enough for every minute in it.”
-

Stone hand Chen lay against the smouldering post of a fence which was once apart of his grandsires farm.

“I don't know what waits beyond, But I'm grateful for every moment we knew you”
-

Feng Lu-keng smiled sitting atop the Giant's Valley his rifle in hand watching the fires descend like a new sunrise kicking his legs like a joyous child.

“Lieren remember, it's not really goodbye but don't rush to see us to soon”

2/?

>>5900775
Beastial maws sung with human hearts in their cities of burnt green and sundered stone

“At last we rest and pass away with the tide, we lived fulfilled, we are glad to have lived our lives”
-

Shangrala was engulfed in fire, all life snuffed out in a moment... millions of souls flooded intot he warp but they didn't go in sorrow, but aglow with hope...their light and song reaching far across the cosmos, reaching through the veil into a battle of titans.

Lieren's eyes widened; millions of deaths flashing before him... but one more than any other.

A pale maiden stepped from the shadow of a hollowed mountain, eyes like emeralds, skin like jade.

“-So fight on my beloved scholar and dry those golden eyes”

She turned to look at him with a smile as she was engulfed I light.
-

The Warmaster felt something shift, like the rising of the tide. Something had changed but before it could gets it's measure from the black smoke of his brother exploded something new... purest white. His eyes burned forcing him to shield them, Lieren wa sin the air hurtling towards him arm poised to strike his heart...his arm was a spear, it was a sword, it was a claw, it was a thousand thousand hands... at his back wings that were made of millions of people pushing their saviour. All singing tot he man whom gave their word a second chance.

The Warmaster knew nothing more overtaken by sheer light and the Black City became Nothing but a memory, until that to would fade.

3/3

>>5898786
>>5899156
I'll back this.

>>5898786
>>Yzura's death. He is the secondary supplier of law and order and controls a menagerie of creatures far more deadly than the average Aeldari Raider. And from what you understand of his profession, he is something of a healer. The loss of all illusions of control and peace in the station, as well as the demise of the foremost medical professional, will surely panic the populace.

>>5898786 #
>>5899156 #
Support this

File: 1625224865247.png (202 KB, 780x593)

202 KB PNG

Calling the vote now, sorry for the long wait, had some serious tooth pain that I was about to get checked out but it just vanished over night, after giving me migraines for three days. Weird, but I am not going to question it

Yzura's death. He is the secondary supplier of law and order and controls a menagerie of creatures far more deadly than the average Aeldari Raider. And from what you understand of his profession, he is something of a healer. The loss of all illusions of control and peace in the station, as well as the demise of the foremost medical professional, will surely panic the populace.:4

Stollaire's death. A hunter of suitable skill, even one as depraved as he, attains a certain awareness of danger and instincts and senses sharper than their fellows. The spawn of Cearnarch, whether they choose to escape or warn others, will make the news of Noct's death spread quicker than it otherwise should:8
-Framing yzura:7

Treating Crawford and freeing the newly arrived slaves, so they are not helpless, but ordering them to stay put in Noct's palace. It is the most well defend part of the port by far, even in spite of your battle with its master and earlier weakening of those same defenses:6

Inform Crawford that we are freeing the other slaves and will send them here.: 1


Total votes:13

So Lieren will treat Crawford's wounds, free the newly arrived slaves so they are not as helpless as eels in a basket, ordering them to hunker down in Noct's palace

Before heading to assassinate Stollaire and frame Yzura as his killer or at least the one who gave the order to have the visiting noble murdered

Writing now

>>5900774
>>5900775
>>5900776
This actually made me cry, the responses to the impending apocalypse were perfectly written, filled with pathos and humility. They died by the tenants of the journey and I'm still shedding tears as I write my thoughts about it

SSS tier work, anon, you really know how to tug on heartstrings

And even if Crawford felt his death swiftly approaching, he would march out of this palace and into the replica of the fires of hell without hesitation, at your side or not. It was a trait of New Varro men that though it at times frustrated you you couldn't help but to admire. Michah fought the butcher king until his body was too damaged to stand up in defiance and rise again, until he fell into a coma and passed peacefully after Kong Nue's dog had been cut down. Rattlemen like him do not concern themselves with the dangers they face or their own well being when their is fighting to be. Especially when they have a righteous purpose to take arms, especially when they have someone to avenge. Tragic tales of revenge are a favorite amongst the tall tales whispered on the prairies and wastes of their homeworld, and the only way to stop a man from New Varro from exacting retribution with his own two hands is to kill him, even if those he seeks to avenge himself upon could deal with his attempt as easily as they would turn over their hand and just as contemptuously.

Crawford is cut from the same cloth as Michah and the others who gave their lives in that altar of slaughter. He is, for lack of a better or more elegant turn of phrase, as New Varro as a densely brewed cup of coffee and platter of beans and bacon. Taking a deep breath, you set aside the last genealogical record required to piece together the access codes Noct hid away from the prying eyes of his masters and employers and walk up to the ragged elder, who even though he is beaten, bruised, missing chunks of skin and muscle and suffering malnutrition, is loading up his revolver with malicious intent.

"Sheriff Crawford. I had a friend just like you. He fought till his last breath and left his riding hat behind, but the grave he was lowered in was far from home, far from family" You humbly explain, warning the old man seeking vengeance in a way that shows him you understand the feelings in his heart "I in grief sought to avenge a friend with whom I was raised and grew, and caused strife and grief between two houses that had done me no wrong and whom I had no quarrel with"

"I'm old venom, dried whiskey, ain't no one gonna cry when Ol mean white hat bites the dust" He loutishly replies with a swaggering drawl "Better I have on last shootout and go meet my deputies with a story to tell, and save some youngins who ain't do nothin to deserve this than lay here and wait to be gutted"

"So you would abandoned the youths still locked in cages, clinging to their mothers thighs and wailing, begging the silent heavens for salvation, in pursuit of satiating your own yearning for vengeance, to cool the fire in your belly" You say, borrowing a new varro turn of phrase to guilt Crawford into not doing anything rash and suicidal "Would you really be content with such a death, forsaking your oaths and duty for such a petty thing as revenge?"
Cont

>>5903203

He affixes you with a glare that would be described by his own people as being mean enough to curdle milk, but he lowers his head, tears twinkling in the twilight glow lighting the quarters of the now dead Noct.

"You got some nerve, suppose it ain't hard to have when you can reach up and snatch lightning from the sky to belt your pants" He complains morosely but sits down "But you ain't speaking nonsense. Just swear you make these star devils pay when ya bushwhack em, greenhorn"

You smile a gentle, sympathetic smile

"I will bring them to justice and deliver to them the punishment they deserve for their crimes too numerous to count and too terrible to recount" You sweat as you kneel down in front of them "But first, allow this young man to mend the wounds of this surly grandfather"

"You have a most peculiar way of speaking, boy, some might even call it queer, whereabouts you from? You ain't one of them star devils, by account of your manners and good looks" He remarks as you begin to apply anti bacterial ointment to his open wounds and cuts, sanitizing them with medical great alcohol. Crawford does not so much as twitch as you carry out your healing, even as you stitch the worse of his injuries closed with a heated needle and metallic thread

"You some kind of cultured Bunyan?" He jokes as you smile and shrug, quietly going about your work

"I can regale you with my history and the story of how I came to be at length, once my business here is done and you are freed" Is all the answer you give him as you put a hand on his shoulder and sternly tell him "I entrust you with the safety and lives of the other prisoners, Sheriff"

"I ain't gonna be no judas steer if that's what you're thinking" He scoffs, scratching the back of his head with a bandaged hand, making to stand before you pull his personal hat from across the room with a delicate spirit's touch, making the head ware dance upon air currents until it lands safely onto his hands "Now that's some devilry, but ignoring whatever that was, I ain't yella, If I have to stay behind, I'll sooner die than let any of the varmits lay another finger on these good folk, on that you have my word, even if you opine that I am a worthless old pod"

"Injured men are no use in a fight" You answer simply "If you were hale and unbloodied, and there were not innocents in needing of guarding, I would be honored to fight beside you. But we both have our roles and duties in the chaos of the day, it is good you recognize yours without complaint'

"Oh I'm complaining alright, I just got the good sense not to speak it to a man who can step of mountains" He chuckles as he stands up, dusting off his hat before placing it securely atop the crown of his head "Just tell me where to keep the other jailbirds, and I'll make sure they don't go wandering"
cont

>>5903204

"They will arrive shortly, some may be escorted by friends of mine who share an unfortunate resemblance with your captors, but they are easily distinguished by the fashion of their dress and the way they stand, the rest I shall shepherd here personally" You explain quickly, knowing time is of the essence and cannot be wasted with idleness or small talk

"And then what, if you're taking the reigns of this operation, I expect to know what you're intending to do" Crawford asks sharply.

Your smile thins and turns dangerous, to the panther smile many say you have as you teeth peek between your lips as the danger radiating from your sneer turns predatory.

"Why, I sow the seeds of discord amongst our enemies, senior" You answer simply, eyes gleaming with malicious and murderous intent "And turn the blades they have across our throats to the backs of their fellows"

"You really are a bushwhacker, ain'tcha, greenhorn? That's a frigthening bit of devilishness" Crawford applauds with a rueful cackle "just make sure to "regale" me with what you end up doing to the bastards, once the unwholesome work is done, ya hear?"
_

"What do you mean something is wrong?" One of servants his father had gifted him complains "You were just staring at those Jokaero and enjoying the menagerie, but now you're acting like a heiress whose just seen her favorite plaything gutted and their inside arranged decoratively across their bedding"

Soltaire rolled his eyes disdainfully, but deigned to answer his underling, knowing how easily it would be for them to abandon him or leave him undefended. He'd left the creature he actually trusts at the nearest hunting lodge of the lords of the stellar hunt, and was far too lightly armed to feel comfortable anywhere in the port except this menagerie of beasts and primitive species. And unlike these fledglings he had been shackled with, he was there when the greatest disaster to have befallen their house since the fall came. He'd died there, and death and near consumption by she who thirsts were not an experience he wished to suffer through again.

The signs were all there. He never forgot the habits of prey, and he burned the characteristics of rivals and peers into his memory. The one being he'd consider himself prey to, besides the aforementioned chaos god, was here. He knew it. The constant moving of slaves had first slowed, then stalled, and the patrols were irregular and disorganized. The creatures of the Haemonculi still lurked in the shadows, hiding their repulsive forms, but the ordinary peacekeepers who enforced the law of the nobles who crouched on this port like wing clipped raptors, were in complete disarray. Soltaire knew a power struggle when they occurred, and this showed none of the signs of one, the soldiers were confused and following orders they'd been assigned, some no doubt were scheming, but they were waiting for the chance to scramble for power rather than taking it.
Cont

>>5903205

That meant their alpha was killed recently and they haven't known it yet. And that resembled very much the method of the golden eyed Mon'keigh. Probing and striking weaknesses, sneaking about to cut off the head and slaughter the leaders once he knew what he was up against, leaving the others to struggle amongst themselves before returning to wipe the entire board clear and kill everything.

"We need to go" Stollaire explained thusly and simply "This port is doomed, and so shall we be if we do not hastily make our exist from it. I do not expect you to understand, or notice the signs yourselves, but I expect you to obey, or else you and I will both die, remain on guard, and follow me. If we spread panic, escaping from here will be harder, so do not speak of this to any outsider, we shall leave with only those presently in my company"

"Giving up the others for dead already?" Another underling joked "What's gotten you so skittish, lordling, this harbor is as treacherous as an obese ork. We could do whatever we want here and fear no reprisal. Your father asked for new slaves, and you're leaving without purchasing even one. The stock you were scrutinizing early, they seemed fine, let us just purchase the lot of em and be"

He was going to kill him later

"Obey me or die" He ordered, mimicking his sire's speech patterns and tone "We are leaving, the danger to our lives will not reveal ourselves until it is tearing out our jugulars"

And that got his supposed servants in line, as they hastily made for one of the routes out of the city that could be crossed and trekked on foot. But it was as they neared the break in the walls and the crag through the webway, that Stollaire realized he had made a grievous error.

He hadn't paid attention to his surroundings, so focused was he on trying to detect the presence of the killer he knew to be stalking him, and thus overlooked his true whereabouts. He took a sharp intake of air as he turned. The creatures controlled by the Haemonculus Yzura. They were everywhere, beneath notice, not worthy of attention.

And the giant Mon'keigh who killed him before by piercing his chest with a flag pole that he then lifted up and stuck to the ground to allow his body to be picked at by all manner of carrion birds, had disguised himself as one of them by wearing a cloak of flayed skin, along with a few false cybernetics, like the bladed gauntlet he had just shoved through his stomach as he emerged from an alley way and carried him against the wall of one of the hovels they were sneaking through.

But through the pain, he couldn't help but admire the craftiness of his camouflage. He gasped, spitting blood on the iron mask the Mon'keigh wore, his golden eyes looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Soltaire turned and saw that besides his nearest guard being trampled under foot, all of them were alive, and fleeing.
Cont

>>5903206

"Fools" he sighed, figuring out what role he played in his now double killers plans "That's what he wants"

"Greetings, Poacher" The mon'keigh coldly and disdainfully addressed him "I am surprised to see you wearing the same face, but I shall soon know how the means you used to evade death, cur"

Stollaire struggled to reach his poisoned knife, but there was a crack and his arm went limp. And his head. Oh, good, the mon'keigh had paralyzed him

"What a fascinating device" He mumbled weakly as he watched him retrieve a needle pointed scepter with a curious flower like growth protruding from its opposite end. The alloy was unknown to him but, Ah! His thoughts were being directed, telepathy, he couldn't resist it! Or rather he didn't care to. It'd make it more of a challenge to evade his killer in their third round, and he couldn't resist the temptation./

The needle of the Lotus scepter was stabbed deeply into his temple, between his eyes and Stollaire thought no more, his final though being, vaguely "I won't let you catch me a third time, Mon'keigh brute"
_

Dropping Stollaire's corpse, the uneasy feeling that this wouldn't be the last you saw of him crept into your mind as you plucked the core of memory already produced by the lotus scepter.

You had made certain to catch him with his most cowardly and disloyal of followers, and executed him in a manner that would terrify even these evil natured Aeldari, while dressed and costumed like the unfortunates the "Little man" creates from his unfortunate victims.

Leaving the corpse of the stellar hunter where it'll be easily seen and identified as him, making certain the manner of his death was apparent to any who saw it.

There was a yowl of pain somewhere nearby, as one of the flee aeldari was no doubt startled by one of the unfortunates and attacked it out of instinctual self preservation.

What is the third stage of your plan, Lieren?

>Assaulting the zoo and freeing its occupants, using the chaos as the denizens of the port realize they're stranded and the infighting between two of the factions spreading to free the prisoners and creatures there

>Assassinating Yzura, before he can take back control of the situation and quash the nobles rallying against him for his "Overstepping"

>while every raider, slaver and torturer on the station are distract, murder the mistress of Pain. Niss will die, and a third fraction will emerge of combat ready new varroicans with a grudge against their captors

>Cast off your disguise and use your previous Aeldari disguise to spread more chaos and confusion by "Warning" the villains and scum who were fond of you of an impending purge and coup

>Write in

>>5903207
>Murder the mistress of pain.

Once we have done so, We can arm the men and free the rest then get them the fuck out.

>>5903207
>while every raider, slaver and torturer on the station are distract, murder the mistress of Pain. Niss will die, and a third fraction will emerge of combat ready new varroicans with a grudge against their captors

>Haemonculus Yzura
That’s interesting. While awful they are a genuinely good source of scientific knowledge, specifically biology and chemistry.

>>5903207
>while every raider, slaver and torturer on the station are distract, murder the mistress of Pain. Niss will die, and a third fraction will emerge of combat ready new varroicans with a grudge against their captors

>>5903207
>while every raider, slaver and torturer on the station are distract, murder the mistress of Pain. Niss will die, and a third fraction will emerge of combat ready new varroicans with a grudge against their captors

>>5903207
>while every raider, slaver and torturer on the station are distract, murder the mistress of Pain. Niss will die, and a third fraction will emerge of combat ready new varroicans with a grudge against their captors

>>5903207
>Assassinating Yzura, before he can take back control of the situation and quash the nobles rallying against him for his "Overstepping"

>>5903207
>>while every raider, slaver and torturer on the station are distract, murder the mistress of Pain. Niss will die, and a third fraction will emerge of combat ready new varroicans with a grudge against their captors

>>5903207
>Assassinating Yzura, before he can take back control of the situation and quash the nobles rallying against him for his "Overstepping"

>Rebirth
Stars flew by in radiant spiralling lights, quasar and exploding gas giants blurring by ina kaleidoscope of colour, warmth and cold. Stollaire beheld eternity flashing by as if he were falling with greater and greater speed. As he plummeted through the Celestial menagerie he saw the stars blur and become teeth cutting at him, distant suns became leering eyes and arcs of solar fire became grasping claws tearing at him, burning him, engulfing him in pleasure...promising him infinity. He resisted chanting a mantra in his disembodied mind;

“I am myself, I am Stollaire, I am the Hunter. I AM”

He felt the thing beyond stars, beyond time looking upon him...

The shadow of the void crept over him and he felt the cold grip of mortality cup his cheeks cutting deep into his imagined cheeks spilling conceptual blood. He snarled but did not scream when a flayed thing of astral light sunk it's teeth into his could be neck. He simply glared into it's six eyes in stubborn defiance as he began to hear voices; Father.

His visions skirting the mortal coil came to an end with an explosion of cold air and heaving lungs. His eyes snapped open to a blinding clinical light dazing him. Stollaire felt his newborn bodies frailty and trepidation as he tore the breathing tube from his throat coughing as the now evacuated tube once full of fluid drained into a spiked black grate.

The glass lifted with a steam filled hiss and the body fell to the ground like a boneless fish; he breathed air once more.

“What happened” a voice spoke to him sounding cold, close....disappointed.

He spat upon the floor before rising naked but unafraid, not showing any weakness despite the newly cloned body and so he replied;

“The Predator has our scent Father, it is coming.”

His father remained silent and still at the news Stollaire himself beginning to smile, soon so to did the Master of the Hunt. Glorious.

>>5903207
>>while every raider, slaver and torturer on the station are distract, murder the mistress of Pain. Niss will die, and a third fraction will emerge of combat ready new varroicans with a grudge against their captors

>>5903207
>>Assassinating Yzura, before he can take back control of the situation and quash the nobles rallying against him for his "Overstepping"

>>5903207
>while every raider, slaver and torturer on the station are distract, murder the mistress of Pain. Niss will die, and a third fraction will emerge of combat ready new varroicans with a grudge against their captors

The Ravenlord and the Urizen stood together looking upon an ancient gate of carved stone wreathed in ancient runes which to both caused their eyes to itch seeming so familiar yet also distant? At their feet a tribute of blood given willingly by their serfs and from each a loyal son. Their minds were focused upon this strange secret thing before them only now the air about it beginning to swirl; whispers from somewhere far away seemingly so very close? The brothers felt things slow, colour fading from the world but for the growing Borealis within the gateway.

Lorgar's eyes widened in revelation “So it's true; they are real.”

His pale brother also mused aloud; “Why would Father hide something so dire? Why carve such a line and leave us in the dark?”

Lorgar turned to his brother and rested a hand upon his shoulder. “He sought to protect us no doubt from them, but why what could convince us to serve such vile th-”

They both froze as a figure emerged from the portal, a figure with ashen skin and towering gait, great horns and fleshy wings in it's hand a blade of blackest night drinking in all light. It spoke in a voice harsh and tempered by aeons.

“Because you may well see the light of truth, that you are not his son's-”

“YOU DARE!” Lorgar bellowed

“-You are theirs.”

With that visions washed over the curious sons, understanding and truth of the past, of bargains struck and vows broken. They wept blood and the Emperor's deeds were known to them. The Daemon spoke to them asking them what they'd do but before thy could answer another came; the Exorcist.

Silver lightning arced about them, golden fire wrapping all present in a ring of flame and the Lightning formed a cage. The Black skinned daemon snarled and raised his sword looking about the cage for the new arrival speaking once more to Lorgar and Corax; “Choose your fate! Join me!”

They heard Lieren's voice all around them carrying more dread than they'd ever heard in person but they'd heard rumour...it was all true? A voice colder than the void and smoldering with more rage than a star.

“Foolish-”

This voice was growing closer. Two Primarch and a Daemon were soon all looking outwards back to back. But when the voice spoke once more they all ceased their search and froze their motions;

“- Fate is but the Salve of fools-”

The voice was within their ranks in the middle of their formation.

“-Think carefully dearest Brothers, choose your next actions with greatest care.”

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Calling the vote now, sorry for the long wait, been stressed out by life the last few days

while every raider, slaver and torturer on the station are distract, murder the mistress of Pain. Niss will die, and a third fraction will emerge of combat ready new varroicans with a grudge against their captors:8

Assassinating Yzura, before he can take back control of the situation and quash the nobles rallying against him for his "Overstepping":3

Total votes:11

So Lieren will take advantage of the chaos he's sown and assassinate Niss, the mistress of pain

writing now

>>5904109
YES! Very vivid writing here, and I like the flayed fox's guest star role in it
>>5907540
This was just plain awesome, like how you described everything, wrote Logar and Corax, and especially Lieren's entrance with one of his favorite phrases

The news of the death of one noble scion spread through the port like wildfire, and with it the illusion of order fell apart. Whether out of fear for their own pathetic lives, ambitions, or settling old scores, the previously languid masses of the slave trading center lashed out at one another, and fighting spread across streets, alleyways, rooftops, sewers, catacombs and into the patches of wilderness that encroached into the fortress' labyrinthine depths. Fearing the creations of the flesh crafters were hidden assassins and enforcers of the will of a artist of torture who had made a gamble to stealthily take the jewel of the hidden den of depravity for himself, or else was leashed more tightly by another master or patron, Kabals, pirates, gangs, raiders and warrior cultists for hire attacked the last form of law enforcement, as its rival and counterbalance group had lost its head and devolved into infighting with each lower level guard struggling to take the place of the probably dead Noct, though his death was not confirmed until the shipyard was found to be a blazing ruin, and any means of easy escape or aerial dominance was consumed by a conflagration of chem-fueled flames. That primitives armed with stolen weaponry within the palace fought off those who sought answers or else the head of Noct, was of little concern when the chimeric attack dogs of Yzura rampaged through the streets, enacting vengeance for those who had dragged the Haemonculi's prized students to the dark to slice their throats.

Like wild animals backed into a corner, every Drukhari believed themselves to be the target of a plot against their in their mind priceless lives, and fought viciously, against rivals, against allies, against their own kin of creed, allegiance and blood. Without much heavy weaponry, and the armories of the noble houses strangely locked, the fighting was vicious and barbaric, with only the weapons they personally carried with them or were able to salvage or fashion, Visiting raiders and traders warred against the local nobility for allowing one of their own to die, each other out of greed, ambition and old vendettas, and Yzura's coven out of simple paranoia. The nobility outraged and insulted by the chaos in their sanctuary and the audacity of lowborn, fought with the weapons they did not keep under lock and key and sought to exterminate their failed servants, the remaining guards of Noct and the rebelling Haemonculi.

The Haemonculi fought to protect themselves, and dragged kicking and screaming any who they were able to capture alive back to their stronghold which was strangely unaffected by the odd malfunction afflicting every other armory across the station.

In this chaotic bloodbath, no one noticed Aeldari who belonged to neither faction, even when they claimed the lives of their leaders and officers.
Cont

>>5908929

And no one noticed an Aeldari of unusual size and purpose, wading through the riots to one of two ponds of sanity in the station in turmoil. The compound of the torture maestro, Meb'scian Niss, the mistress of pain, who despite close relations with Yzura wisely kept her personal holdings and workshop of agony on the opposite side of the port from the apparently ambitious Haemonculi.

It was a well of pain, grief, sorrow, hatred, and loss of hope.

And Lieren of Nothing was intent on smashing that foul black stoned tower to its foundations atop the heads of its inhabitants.
_

"A mon'keigh" Gasps one of the scantily clad Aeldari women who thought a venom soaked blade was enough to finish you, and mistakenly believed that the toxin could overwhelm your superhuman physique and that she would've been able to slip the knife through your guard and armor to inject its virulent payload into your veins.

She also, like the four of her sisters who you cut through with ease, that favoring and facing you with her more heavily dressed and armored side would at all impede you from slaughtering her just as you had the previous defenders. She however, had figured out how to properly counter a rope dart, and had only lunged at you after cutting the wire, thinking you helpless after you had stood your ground and reaved through nearly a dozen of her compatriots with the razor wire and punched holes through the skulls and sides of a dozen more with the dart.

She had been incorrect in that assumption. As you had stowed a revolver on your hip, and had practiced quick drawing with New Varroicans like Michah and clayton. Like your skill with the rope dart, the talent had been more of a hobby than anything else.

But a hobby that can be used in combat, is as worthwhile as any historied and renowned martial art.

She gurgles something else in a dialect of aeldari unknown to you as she collapses, missing one eye and with a hole out the back of her head oozing greymatter.

Flipping the revolver around, you step over her corpse, grab a sword whose prior own had been incapable of unsheathing and holding it at your side march forward, the wailing and whimpering of pain slaves and torture thralls turn to adoring cheers and fevered prayers. Not all of them are from new varro, or are of the baseline breed of humanity or are human at all. But, there origin and species means less to you than the blood sticking to the soles of your shoes, so as you walk above their holding cells, where they are displayed like exotic birds, you release them from their cages. It would seem that the lowest levels of the tower are for entertainment, for guests to pay to torture or mock battle the most broken of prisoners.

Many do not move from their cells, expecting this to be another trick, but many others rush out and grab weapons from the dead, eyes agleam coldly with a lust for vengeance and retribution.
Cont

>>5908930

However they are unable to keep up with you and thus are unable to enact either upon their captors. It is for their own good really. With the stolen Klaive, now unsheathed, you become a blur of motion, fighting against Incubi who have taken control of the situation and having studied your battle with their lessers, hold out longer than the initial wave of defenders.

But once you've beheaded one and stolen his bladed, commanding it with telekinesis to fly around, you move through the remaining three of the four to initially ambush you like a thresher through a rice field.

"Impressive blade control" A fifth admires as they deflect your flying klaive and lock the one held between your hands with their guard, sparks and energy fluctuations rising like Lighting racing through a night sky painted by an aurora "Impressive footwork, Impressive technique. You are no craftworlder, nor wanderer, you are no Aeldari at all, yet you wield our weapons with such finesse and elegance, I must admit, Mon'Keigh, You are something special"

"Perhaps I am" You say humbly, bowing your head as you, with a handsign, channel one of the pyskerist techniques passed down to you by Guozhi, "The Five Daggers of Winter's Embrace". Coating your free hand in ethereal frost and death, you slap the more experienced Incubi on the thigh. He twists, pivoting his klaive, rolling yours and thrusts forward, you avoid with a ducking motion of the carps dance.

He collapses, one leg frozen solid and shattered by a kick you lash out as you fall purposefully to the ground. He laughs, pain inking his amusement and amazement as you rise back up and direct the klaive to his throat.

"Bravo" He stats, bowing his head in defeat.

You frown as you thrust the powered klaive between the visors of his bug eyed helmet.

"An masterful last move" You admit, seeing the hairline fracture along the edge of the arcane mechanisms creating the klaive's powerfield. Further activation would've had it explode in your hand.

Favoring the revolver now, which you have given a brother, you reload both and check the rotation mechanism for any flaws or impediments. Satisfied and sure they will function, you charge forward, meeting the next opponents to impede you rise through the tower with expertly placed gunfire.

The armored incubi cannot be harmed by such primitive armaments, however, the noise, impact and ricochet distract them long enough for you to close the distance, grab one by the ankle and use his body as a bludgeon against his fellows. They die instantly. Grabbing an unpowered klaive whose wielder had been unable to activate before you bashed him to death with the corpse of his accomplice, you carry on, higher and higher.

The foul natured aeldari are fleeing from you now, abandoning their charges and projects, leaving them for you to free at your leisure, the ones in the middle and high portions of the tower are much more health, body and mind, so you guide them into battle.
Cont

>>5908931

There were more slaves than masters in this tower, and thus this revolt becomes a massacre of tyrants. Using wind whispering to tell all of them how to use Aeldari weaponry to avoid any self sustained injuries or unfortunate casualties, you lead the charge through the tower.

A large green ape like creature bursts out from a cell in front of you, and breaks the one line of defenders that may have provided you a challenge with a bellowed war cry of "WAAAAAAAAAAAGH"

You blink, stopped in place as the Alien warrior is cut down, but only after rampaging through the defenders line at the top of the stairway, and only after having every limb severed and its head consumed in a blast of super concentrate heat of a plasma grenade shoved into its throat by a strangely selfless kabalite. There is not much left of the towering mass of verdant muscles after that, but there is enough for you to see the creature, whoever or whatever they were, was a fungus. A sapient fungus. What a curious oddity. Perhaps the only example of its kind.

What it was, does not matter, for the emerald warrior had devastated their hastily erected fortifications and slew many of the defenders holding them in their noble charge. What remains, and which was not caught in the blast of super heated plasma or else destroyed by shrapnel of bone, chunks of flesh and shredded armor reduced to skin melting slag.

The resistance in the tower becomes less and less the higher you go.

"Red-Rum Redmon, I presume?" You ask the last man in the last sell, whose eyes are dark wells of spite and murderous intent, which roils off of him in waves that would put some of the misbegotten Kauravas of Nitya Sinha

"The gentleman ghost" he responds as you slide him the two revolvers

"Let us avenge your lover" You state, turning your back to him as you lead the virtuous outlaw to the gateway to the inner sanctum of Niss.

And find that the mistress of pain could not endure the psychological torment of seeing the little empire she built for herself falling apart.

It had not taken much time, less than it takes to eat a meal, but a little more than it takes to drink a cup of tea, for you scale her fortress and break through her every line of defense. And judging from the coolness of her corpse. She killed herself at the ten minute mark, when you had started freeing slaves.

He body, dressed for battle, hangs by an agonizer whip, her long black hair covering her scar crossed beauty.

"Ah" You say, as you see Redmon, in a blind fury, unload both revolvers at her corpse, cursing all the while "I see, the final torture and insult. Denying your victims their justice by ending your own life before they could take it from you. Such Banal cruelty. None shall mourn you Niss, or remember you once their scars have healed"
Cont

>>5908932

"Bitch! Whore!" Redmon cries out, falling to his knees, tears streaking his face as it reddens and twists with complicated emotions. But the emotional agony of being denied the chance to kill Niss himself, will feed no shriveled Aeldari soul.

"You may have wished to do the deed yourself, but there is no reason to spread pain" You console, putting a hand on his shoulder "She did not die painlessly, but that was her own choice"

"I'd have shot her dead, I ain't one of these devils" Redmons says, sniffling "I just...need to do some yowling is all, She might've been the boss here, but there's other bastards I can shoot down still, right, Sunset eyes?"

"Of course, now is the time for the meek and oppressed to bare their fangs and take up arms against their tormentors" You say, serene in manner but with a mask of fury upon your face

"I know I'm put some lead in some bellies for that green feller" Redmon says with an appreciative nod as he settles his holster and several other new varroicans shoot niss' dead body or else spit on it, the other humans, some of whom appear tribal and others who look like out of place nobles with how they're hold the clubs and spears they've found or fashioned, watch you in awe.

Some even begin praying. A misunderstanding you will rectify once the fighting is done and you learn their tongue

The Aeldari out of the tower fighting in the streets, were entirely unprepared for a fresh and vengeful army to suddenly emerge and strike them from behind.

Leading the slave revolt, what do you use your new army for, Lieren?

>Freeing the remaining slaves in the menagerie and personal "Larders" of the nobility, and reuniting them with crawford and the prisoners under his protection

>Use your experience as a general to lead them in open warfare against the masters of the station

>Assault Yzura's tower and remove the last figure head keeping the station alive and in one piece.

>Contact your Aeldari co-conspirators and have them evacuate the wounded while you create a safe route for escape for those who are incapable of fighting. Let the wicked aeldari slaughter themselves

>Write in

>>5908934
>Freeing the remaining slaves in the menagerie and personal "Larders" of the nobility, and reuniting them with crawford and the prisoners under his protection
>Assault Yzura's tower and remove the last figure head keeping the station alive and in one piece.
Ensure the slaves are free and have access to safety in numbers, then we can cut the last head off this hydra before they can get their shit together. This place has had an alarming number of skilled and shrewd Dark Eldar, giving them time to breath inevitably ends with us getting more shit to deal with.

>A sapient fungus. What a curious oddity. Perhaps the only example of its kind.
Man, this green alien seemed very strong. I wonder if we will meet one again later? Would be nice haha
Poor Lieren has no idea

>>5908934
>Freeing the remaining slaves in the menagerie and personal "Larders" of the nobility, and reuniting them with crawford and the prisoners under his protection

>Contact your Aeldari co-conspirators and have them evacuate the wounded while you create a safe route for escape for those who are incapable of fighting. Let the wicked aeldari slaughter themselves

>>5909112
>Support >>5908934

We're done here. Once the slaves are free and safe, Yzura can keep the station. Whatever is left of it.

>>5908930
A primarch tier revolver is something I never knew I needed until just now. I can only imagine how massive it is given Lieran is one of the largest primarchs.

>>5908932
Finally! Just a taste of what's to come. Can't wait for the Ulanor crusade. Perhaps Lieran can learn ork as part of preparing for the campaign.

>>5908934 #
>Freeing the remaining slaves in the menagerie and personal "Larders" of the nobility, and reuniting them with crawford and the prisoners under his protection
>Assault Yzura's tower and remove the last figure head keeping the station alive and in one piece.

>>5908934
>Freeing the remaining slaves in the menagerie and personal "Larders" of the nobility, and reuniting them with crawford and the prisoners under his protection
We must free and befriend the funny monkey aliens. Apes together strong!
>Assault Yzura's tower and remove the last figure head keeping the station alive and in one piece.

>>5908934
>Assault Yzura's tower and remove the last figure head keeping the station alive and in one piece.

>>5908934
>>Assault Yzura's tower and remove the last figure head keeping the station alive and in one piece.

>>5908934
>Assault Yzura's tower and remove the last figure head keeping the station alive and in one piece.

I don't want to leave this station behind us to rebuild.

>>5908934
this>>5909112

>>5909112
>>5908934
Support, we did what we came here to do.

So who do you think we've picked up? Some people from Lorgars home and maybe some from guillimans? We do need to catch up to Lorgar asap. But at the same time I kinda don't wanna be the fulcrum of all fixes.

I'm more looking forward to meeting pops, the whole legion and a few bros before determining which legions we will be leading until their dad is found

>>5908934
>supporting >>5909112
we have a wedding to finally arrange

>>5908934
>>Freeing the remaining slaves in the menagerie and personal "Larders" of the nobility, and reuniting them with crawford and the prisoners under his protection

+++DATASTACK:XXXX+++
++LOG:XXXXX-XX++
Ten thousand years ago the Second Son died; Lieren. The Emperor's Exorcist and Tracker, confidant and some dare whisper favoured son. But time and history have a sense of irony to them, a cruelty inflicted upon many a legacy. The Warmaster slew him, cast his soul into the Warp and shattered it a thousand thousand fold... but a chimera is a thousand thousand things and yet still one. Ever the case when dealing with the Primarch of the Second Legion high level clearance and memetic warding is required lest one be afflicted by the aptly named 'Chimera's Insanity'. This geneflaw emerged as a psionic scar upon his death afflicting all those whom bare either his gene seed or have been exposed to the memetic philosophy of [REDACTED]. The trigger for the affliction seems to be high stress situations not entirely limited to combat scenarios as civilian adherents to [REDACTED] have shown symptoms or full episodes of the aforementioned affliction.

The outward appearance of these episodes takes the form of a micro localised warp event where an individuals mind, their very being becomes utterly consumed by a singular concept; Death, Joy, Revenge, hope. The possibilities seem endless however all are tainted in a manner almost disturbingly so by [CLASSIFIED] culture and local theatre troupes. Spontaneous melodies and song accompanying slaughter or the utter single minded following of whatever mask they have donned. Radial Inquisitor [REDACTED] stated it bares effects of striking similarity to Aeldari [CLASSIFIED]. Worse still this mania seems infectious though Emperor be thanked the states seem short lived.


-
TLDR; Lieren becomes an infectious musical mania upon death.

>>5908934
this>>5909112
Its time to end this show

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213 KB JPG

Calling the vote now, sorry for the long wait.

Freeing the remaining slaves in the menagerie and personal "Larders" of the nobility, and reuniting them with crawford and the prisoners under his protection:10

Assault Yzura's tower and remove the last figure head keeping the station alive and in one piece: 6

Contact your Aeldari co-conspirators and have them evacuate the wounded while you create a safe route for escape for those who are incapable of fighting. Let the wicked aeldari slaughter themselves:6

total votes:13

So Lieren will command the slave revolt to free the remaining slaves and connect with Crawford and the fresh prisoners under his protection, while also contacting hios Aeldari co- conspirators and have them evacuate the wounded and create a safe route of escape while their vile cousins butcher themselves

While he stages a one man assault on Yzura's tower to remove the last pillar keeping the station from descending into total anarchy.

Writing now.

>>5912677
Very poetic, and I like your idea for the 2nd legions geneflaw, also emperor's exorcists is a really cool title. Keeping that in mind

"Redmon" The man with sunset in his eyes bellowed over the thunderous storm of gunfire, though the rifles they'd pillaged were the most peculiar lead spitters Red-Rum had ever seen let alone held in his hands "I transfer the reins of command to you, guide the others in freeing those still bound and chained!"

Redmon paused, having been occupied dragging his favorite buck knife across the throat of one of a particularly squirmy knife eared yegg, looked up over his handiwork to see that the fighting in this length of street was nearly finished, with the Big man himself holding some manner of abomination spawned from Old scratch's spittoon up by its scruff like a mewling kitten.

"Now hows am I supposed to do that hoss!" He barked back, dropping his fresh kill to bleed and choke its last gurgling breath on the oily black stone beneath his boots "I ain't know tip or tail in this circus house, hows I'm supposed to know where they're keeping the other poor bastards they bushwhacked and dragged to this here rattler den?"

Sunset eye paused, stopping what he was doing, which was digging a clawed glove through the throat of the poor bastard made of stitches and metal plates, searching for something within its twitching meat like he was panning for gold dust.

"This shall serve as a guide, charting your way through the rivers and rills of stone, glass and metal, it will show you the hidden path through this urban wilderness, making order from its chaotic construction" he answered, tossing him a peculiar, razor edge device that cut into his fingers as his hand shot up to catch it "A drop of Aeldari blood will activate it's arcane mechanisms, and display a real time map of the entirety of the station, that I have marked with points of interests since it came into my possession, it will show you were the other slaves are being kept and warn you of approaching enemies"

"Shoot, if I had a doo hicky like that, I'd never have gotten a bounty to begin with, now, mind telling me what exactly is an Ale dare ey?" He answered, shaking the device and trying to hear its gears or whirring engine click and his

"The yeggs, as you refer to them" Sunset eyes answer casually, as he dropped the corpse of the whatsit and held up a twitching mass that looked like a bundle of copper wires sprouting from a tumorous growth. Redmon didn't know what it was, but from how the towering Belvidere looked at it, it had to be important"

"Gotcha, I'll gather up more for the posse and give these Ale dare ers a real whipping" He snorted as he washed the strange doohicky with the steaming blood still coating his hands, curious color, stranger texture, but blood was blood
Cont

>>5914196

"You will avoid fighting unless it is necessary, prioritize the safety of your fellow man, and when it is done and you have saved as many as you and the rest of this little rebellion are capable of, head to the docking area, marked with the sail shape on the map" He kept yapping on as he stepped away from the rest of their newly minted gang "There you'll find a Lawman, by the name of crawford"

"Ah hell, he's gotten tangled in this mess to?" Redmon groaned, shaking his head

"You have your differences, mend them and realize you are more alike than not. Unity is the greatest strength of human kind, Red-Rum. Let this day serve as your redemption or final condemnation, I trust the good within you to win out over the venom" He heard the mountain stepper say, but he was gone when he lifted up his head

"Guess I turned white hat today" Redmon sighed, pushing the past behind him in favor of looking ahead for the sunset cresting the hills ahead "Come on boys, we got some folks to rustle and some Yeggs from outers pace to invite to our lil skin game, vamoose~!"
_

Rhanne-Shean, proud defender of Ulthwe and Howling Banshee gave a fearsome cry as she, still unable to figure out the trick the Mon'keigh had used to learn to notch a bow of pure psionic energy that spelled death and doom for whoever its arrow hewn from soul and warp targeted, even though many of those she was fighting with, true sons and daughters of the craftworld and those whose minds had become rotten with the Mon'keigh's gospel were capable of notching one arrow every couple of minutes. The latest party of their darkly minded cousins was routed, and she was thrilled to pursue them into the heart of their den of ruination, excess and cruelty, when suddenly, the head of the misguided stopped, there eyes flickering first gold then silver.

"Our orders have changed" He stated simply, turning on his heels "We are to extract the wounded, Aeldari, Human and other, and prepare a safe route for retreat"

"We are winning this fight, the misbegotten are in disarray" Rhanne-Shean spat, power sword still dripping with light refracting blood of an poor excuse for an aeldari, sparkling and glittering like a shattered, liquified soul gem. The similarity chilled the young aspect warrior to her core.

"So speaks one dedicated to the path of the warrior" A different so called follower of the path of the Journey chuckled, she was once her sister, her fellow banshee, but now she had a relaxed, careless smile on her scarred face and addressed her with the flippancy of a girl lost in a day dream "We've accomplished what we came here to do, let us not risk precious lives chasing the high of bloodlust"

Rhanne-Shean ticked her jaw, but her senior aspect warriors had stopped their own pursuit.
Cont

>>5914197
"Ulthran has spoken the same, we are to cease battle operations and prepare for our escape from this realm of ill gotten plunder and suffering" They spoke bitterly, clearly not liking being stopped at the peak of their momentum, the height of glorious battle "The human prisoners are freeing themselves"

"And what of the bow stringer?" Rhanne-Shean asked impatiently, wondering where that queer mon'keigh had wandered off to after he turned Noct into a mangled corpse. The ease of which he could kill Aeldari even as skilled and acclimated to battle as that fallen warrior brought great unease to the young banshee's mind

"Killing one of the old nobility" Was the answer she was given

"He must be confident in the ability of beaten, malnourished prisoners if he's tracking such a vicious quarry, mayhaps his spiritual experience has addled his mind" She chuckled in reply

"No, the mon'keigh are freeing their own, the Bow Stringer is attacking the demesne of the noble alone" A warp spider whose name escaped Rhanne-Shean answered with an impressed chuckle "If there is one thing laudable about that man, it would be his daring"

The banshee ticked her jaw again.
_

Curly applegate couldn't believe her eyes, she had spent the better part of an hour, shielding the children huddled with her in the cage as the devils outside of it went at eachother like dogs gone rabid, and all manner of terrifying beasties were uncaged and allowed to rampage throughout the open air prison they'd been hustled and pushed into...she didn't know how long ago. The Orange furred shaggy spooks, that were much more friendly than their kin, had the chance to escape when the wolfish wardens went feral, but they had instead galloped over to their cage and began fiddling with the lock.

That wasn't what she couldn't believe, it was the sight of a bunch of rattlemen and gunslingers, looking fresh from the saddle, emerged from the gloom and bleakness, and with the star devil's own tools, began blasting them to bits, hooting and hollering. She didn't know there were others from New Varro here, and could half believe the tall tales of the ghosts of drifters and outlaws riding across the night sky in the moment, as how else could so many sharpshooters and eagle eyes come to their rescue now of all times. It had to the work of that kindly and gentle voice that asked her oh so kindly to peak out from her bars and look at the hellish sights outside of their cage.

There were other, queer folk with them, who didn't look nothing New Varro, and some didn't look like people are all, waving around arms that looked more like eels or writing snakes, but they were shooting down their captors who'd whipped her meanly, so curly did not think it polite to complain about the looks of her saviors.
Cont

>>5914198

"Oook, ah, ook?" One of the shaggy spooks hollered, as suddenly the prison around them just, fell apart, as they picked through its pieces and began putting them together, putting wires through their teeth with a real determined look in their eyes. Gathering up her school children like a mother hen does its chicks, she tried to put on a brave face as she marched up to the nearest friendly face, a shiver down her back as she saw how rugged and wild he looked.

"Missy" He spoke with a drawl "Step back, this shooter is the devil's own, and I ain't want ya or ya lil uns getting caught in its fury"

She didn't need to be told twice and hurried behind the line, tipping her hat at one of the odder fellows, who looked more like a rose bush that had gone a bit wild, as her charges obediently followed after her.

"Applegate?" A familiar voice gasped, and there, wrapped up in bandages and in the arms of one of the odd but still human looking gunslingers, was the mean old grump Crawford "Ah hell, whatcha doing here! And are those your students, this is worse than I thought! Come here! Come Quickly! Those odd looking shaggy spooks made something, don't know what it is, but it just held back one of those geysers of blackness that melted a pack of those star devils like they was ice on a summer day!"

Curly did not need to be told twice, though she couldn't help but wonder where that gentleman ghost who asked her to get a lay of the land was. A youngin clung to her side, crying. And curly realized she was to. She could only hope and pray this wasn't all just a cruel dream.
_

"Yzura!" You bellowed, standing atop the remains one of his students, who had replaced his spine and lower back with a razor flanged serpents tail, venom and neuro toxins still dripping from the spear like point of it as you bloodily wrenched his flesh and blood body from its moorings and with a headbutt shattered the skull protected by a mask of chitinous metal "I have come for you! As mists sweep down the valley, as sure as the sun rises, today shall be your last"

You were enraged, a black fury roiling within your heart and rising to cloud your mind with a dangerous anger. The sights you had seen battling your way into the domain of the little person, were horrid and repulsive beyond words, more vile than the sights that had benighted your eyes in the Celestial Incarnation Palace. Mad works of science and mingling of flesh and technology. Memories of the Yan's debauchery and tortures, the fate of the Mathoth at Nuceria, the Butcher king's cybernetic armies, the servitors and nailed thralls of the high riders rose up, but they were nothing compared to the monstrosities you encounter. Your eyes saw their suffering, their agony, the monstrous beings that had been so twisted but you could see had once been human, pleading with you silently to end their suffering swiftly and mercifully.
Cont

>>5914199

And their tormentors, who gleefully and willingly underwent the same mutilating changes. It recalled to memory the Shuni Sorcerers, and the adherents of Hei'an Fu hiding beneath notice in the thousand faiths of the Zoroast!

"Please, stop shouting and making a mess of the place" A voice of a corpse groaned from the shadows of the diabolic laboratory, the sound of metal striking and ringing against metal echoed through its vast depths "And stop wasting your lives attacking the brute, you should've realized he wasn't something you could best in battle when he tore through our finest craftsmanship like a Klaivexe through a field of snotlings! Just because you can be pieced back together, does not mean the machinery and tools you damage in fighting him can be easily replaced!"

From the high shadows, emerged a withered Aeldari whose had replaced his lower half with a bio-mechanicle spider, and sewn two additional pairs of arms at the elbows of his original pair, the skin on his back was stretched out and used to form a rack holding vials containing liquids holding nutrient broths and stimulants that would send even your astartes into dual cardiac arrest

"So you are the one who has seen fit to wreck havoc in our little peace of paradise?" He asked "A curious manufacture, clearly your creator would flourish in our ranks, to create so potent a gene-warrior, though I find the sorcery inherent to your creation to be a short cut only a novice would take, but still, I cannot help but marvel at the artifice within you, a genetailor of no lacking skill must be your progenitor, though it pains me to admit, I'd give up everything I have to learn exactly how he wove you together, Hunter"

"I suppose singing a hunting song from my home gave away my purpose here" You chuckle, a mask of geniality disguising your murderous rage

"That and your murder of my students, but yes, that did inform me that you saw this assault as a culling exercise, like ridding the herd of diseased members" Yzura states calmly "The station is already lost to us, order will not be restored for several standard solar cycles, so I must ask, besides personal loathing, why you would personally pursue and deliver my death? You seem a scholar, from how well you speak our tongue and your swift execution of my supposed peers, yet you are disgusted by my work and efforts here"

You mask falters and a snarl escapes your lips

"You have a means to escape death like Stollaire" You spit, enraged that this will not be the last you see of this wretch "That alone is enough for me to despise you, all things must fade, all things must die. Nothing is eternal"

"What a small minded view" He laughs eyes glinting as he approaches you, all six hands folded behind his back "Perhaps I was wrong in my assessment of you, There is much you could learn from me that would benefit your people and society, yet because of the means required to replicate it, you would reduce all I have gathered here to ash"

>>5914201

"Knowledge is not dangerous in of itself" You answer plainly, sensing they are planning to strike you when they believe your defenses are lowered "Your knowledge of biology and chemistry is praise worthy, but most of what you seek to unveil is of no use to me, that the methods you use to research are contemptible and unforgivably wicked, simply makes you more despicable"

He strikes, a rictus grin on his face, spider like limbs raised to pin you to the ground. You respond with a flurry of finger jabs and kicks from the Night Crane Style, cutting off his connection spiritual and physical to his spider like body. His collapses to the ground, his students swarm you

You don the cloak of the ever burning will and feed its flame with a pour of soulstuff, the golden conflagration turning into a spirit subjugating blade as its fires explode outwards, changing color and hue to become an inferno of Azure and Plum, the flickering tongues of the flames turning into feathers and wings as you eradicate the lesser acolytes of Yzura, who shrieks in agony as his withered soul is touched by your noble spirit.

"My eyes reveal your intentions, and see the truth of all they behold" You calmly assert, informing Yzura of the reason for his attack and ambush' failure

"Your creator truly is a maestro of creating life" He chuckles "But aren't you a little curious what I know?"

"No" You state simply, as you raise up an armored foot and stomp it down onto the back of his skull, ending at least this incarnation of Yzura, before spreading out the wings of fire wrapped around you to reduce the rest of his laboratory to ash. A funerary pyre for those he abused within it.

All that was left was for you to join the others in escaping this hellhole.

And once you had, what would you do, Lieren?

>Make all haste for Shangrala and do not delay your wedding a moment longer

>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them

>Talk with the foreigners that are not from New Varro and learn all you can from them and their planets of origin.

>Practice using [Containment] while the former prisoners recover from their experience under the wicked Aeldari's yoke

>Write in

I love writing New Varroicans with Lieren. Always reminds me of Shanghai Noon

>>5914203
>Make all haste for Shangrala and do not delay your wedding a moment longer
>Talk with the foreigners that are not from New Varro and learn all you can from them and their planets of origin.

>>5914203
>Make all haste for the wedding.

Quicker home, the quicker they can get treatment.

>>5914203
>Make all haste for Shangrala and do not delay your wedding a moment longer

>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them

>>5914203
>Practice using [Containment] on the dark eldar while the former prisoners recover from their experience under the wicked Aeldari's yoke

>>5914203
>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them

>Talk with the foreigners that are not from New Varro and learn all you can from them and their planets of origin.

>>5914203
>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them

>Talk with the foreigners that are not from New Varro and learn all you can from them and their planets of origin.
I want to know more about these xenos and strangers. Plus some of them (probably the feral worlders) seem to think Lieren is a god, that needs to be rectified.

>>5914199
They have Jokaro prisoners as well? We must enlist their services.

>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them

>Talk with the foreigners that are not from New Varro and learn all you can from them and their planets of origin.

>>5914203
>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them
>Practice using [Containment] while the former prisoners recover from their experience under the wicked Aeldari's yoke

>>5914203 #
>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them
4dtj
>Talk with the foreigners that are not from New Varro and learn all you can from them and their planets of origin.

>>5914203
>write in

These peoples and beings are lost, most lacking the resources or know-how to find their ways home. For all intents and purposes, the majority of once-slaves-and-spectacles will likely never return to where they came. They cannot stay here either though, and while you have built a rapport with the Aeldari of Ulthwe these peoples have not. As much as pains you to delay the wedding for another moment, it is not in your spirit to leave the helpless to flounder. Offer the rescued slaves, human or otherwise, to stay on Shangrala until some method of artifice or other opportunity for them to return to their homeworlds presents itself.

>>5915130
supports this as well

Dataslates were piled high and another rested in the hand of the First Reclaimed Primarch; Horus. He'd been reviewing the service records of all the Legio Astartes he would be fighting beside or even personally leading but also he was looking over the rebirths of Legions reunited with their Fathers. When the Wold King had come in all his bluster his legion frankly change little tactically in his mind; Still a loud and bloody threat to the Galaxy set to be unleashed upon the unworthy. But the slate in his hand covered the Legion of his newest found kin, Lieren and the Legio Chimerai.

A once fragmented legion whom while admirably sporting a shocking number of specialist were viewed with suspicion and concern for their almost religious zeal... rumours of entire internal Sects being expunged, tales of their ideology spreading like the forbidden faiths of old night. Yet now they seemed transformed to the Imperium but Horus knew better and looking closer he'd figured it out.

Lieren had taken his legion in it's entirety upon a campaign to a system known as 'NV', a wise move something to unite the old Terran veterans with the fresh waves of recruits brought from Shangrala. But in the background something more, something that reminded him of Malcador's methods. personal interventions to correct Astartes in subtle manners, Disappearances or doomed assignments to those whom were 'unsalvageable'. Their doctrine was going through a total rebirth a favoured method of war referred to in their local texts as 'The Hunter's Prowl through the Mist' which despite it's long winded title was relatively simple to understand.

The legion would secure a location as the 'Hunter's Den', there they fortify and reinforce Compliance. From that Den they spread eyes and ears through civilian, baseborn and rumour has it even Xeno informants and spies; the Hunter's Hounds spreading through the Galaxy for their master. The Final part is fufilled by the more senior or experience sons; the Hunters. Lashing out of shadows when signalled by the hounds or drawn to by opportunity bringing back trophies and kills to the den.... to be put to use by the Legion. A code from a primitive time still holding true; you keep what you kill and waste nothing. It worked perfectly, when in the Den the legion are united all thoughts of contest banished yet when on the hunt they are allowed to compete as sons should. It doubled as another curious divide; when at the den, in the safety of the hearth they became more human and only on the hunt did they become utterly cold...why? Why weaken them?

The brief report in his hand summarizing them as Garrison and sabotage specialists didn't reveal enough or do them justice... but maybe that to was their Sires design. Horus felt himself flinch at the memory of their first meeting... feeling those eyes... seeing his brother wore a mask.... a machine that learnt to be human, a machine that developed philosophy....or was it lying?

>>5914203
>Make all haste for Shangrala and do not delay your wedding a moment longer
>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them

>>5914203
>Make all haste for Shangrala and do not delay your wedding a moment longer
>Talk with the foreigners that are not from New Varro and learn all you can from them and their planets of origin.
>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them
>>5915130
this too

>>5915236
>seeing his brother wore a mask.... a machine that learnt to be human, a machine that developed philosophy....or was it lying?
Technically its both

>>5914203
>>Make all haste for Shangrala and do not delay your wedding a moment longer
>>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them

>>Write in
Bring all the survivors with us back to Shangrila where we can care for them. If we can, we will work to return them to their homes eventually.

>>5914203
>>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them
>>Talk with the foreigners that are not from New Varro and learn all you can from them and their planets of origin.
seem good enough, did a good job here. lets go

>>5916090
Support

>>5914203
>Make all haste for Shangrala and do not delay your wedding a moment longer
>Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them

>>5914203
>>Make all haste for Shangrala and do not delay your wedding a moment longer

Malal here. Laid out in bed. Think I have an ear infection or something. In too much pain to write rn, so the wait is going to be longer than the usual struggle against the machine spirits tends to be. Feels like I have a rusting nail stabbed into my ear canal

>>5919562
Steam brother, hot shower I found helps a little, don't stick anything in whatever ya do. Otherwise seek Apothecary for ear drops

>>5919562
rest

Male you writeing is one of the best stories I've ever read. Top 5 for me, if you're sick take two weeks off your health is more important

https://youtu.be/Qd-CwJa1SHE?t=67

Fenris was a world of bitterest cold and a den of monsters ranging from the great Iron Scale Krakens of the deep to the roaming Ice Trolls and Wolfkind. But upon a nameless frozen lake upon a slumbering volcanic isle in the southern Unbound Sea two other beasts fought for dominance; yet neither was native. Silver spears thrust and swung silent in the howling wind cutting even finest snow with each perfect thrust the Hydra's two head working in perfect tandem to fight the ever shifting stance and form of the Chimera. Neither should be upon this sacred ground but neither were such things to be denied, The Hydra had come for a prize found in the depths of the world and the Chimera in turn had hunted them leaving their clash inevitable.

---
1/2

>>5923261
https://youtu.be/T8BI2fKzdys

Alpharius and Omegon circled Lieren steadily the ice slowly groaning under the weight and battle of the demigods. The power fields of the twin headed spears flickered as snow fell and melted. They'd been probing Lieren at first but the Chimera was a foe whom proved illusive to study and adaptive combat... always changing. The twins gritted their teeth as their awoken abilities let them trade thoughts without so much as a word. Their options were weighed;

His advantages; their time limit until detection, size, direct combat experience.

Their advantages; superior teamwork and out numbering, Weapons specifically designed to kill other Primarchs and finally the choice of field.

It was a tight match, to close a contest either of the Hydra would normally be willing to commit to but their hand had been forced.

Together they launched forward one Alpharius going low with a sweep cutting a scar across ancient ice while Omegon struck high with a flurry of jabs, again they were countered the Chimera leaping and standing weightlessly upon the sweeping spear and catching the shaft of the spear just below the blade between to flat closed hands. Alpharius tinted his visor to max, Omegon activated a flashbang Lieren would be unable to look away from due to proximity and his grip.

The boom shuddered even the meter thick stage of their struggle and the light was all consuming for a moment only of a new puzzle to emerge as vision returned; three Hydra. All three clutched their brows as images flooded forward; the Chimera had taken their face. The feedback loop consumed them all, the twins shared their thoughts and instincts, Lieren mimicked then, they saw what he saw, he saw what they saw. The loop circled and circled; golden fire bloomed in all their eyes and they screamed; yet one was only acting.

They'd all backed off, each a mirror; until finally one launched at the another. Was it Lieren wearing Alpharius, was it Alpharius? They were all Alpharius and so the Hydra's heads were tied in knots each fighting to slay the other two each only trusting themselves. Until finally as blows were traded once more,

One head guided the spears of the others through one another's hearts; all three remained quiet...who had won? One head of the Hydra was surly dead but had they taken the Chimera with them in sacrifice?

2/2

File: 1612902299844.png (779 KB, 1000x750)

779 KB PNG

Calling the vote now, still not feeling the best, but much better than I did for the last week or so (Just have a headache now), sorry for the wait, btw.

Make all haste for Shangrala and do not delay your wedding a moment longer:9

Talk with the foreigners that are not from New Varro and learn all you can from them and their planets of origin.:7

Study and converse with the aliens that were freed along with your fellow man and learn all you can about them:11

Practice using [Containment] on the dark eldar while the former prisoners recover from their experience under the wicked Aeldari's yoke:2

These peoples and beings are lost..etc: 5

So Lieren will study and converse with the aliens freed alongside his fellow man, while making all haste back to Shangrala for his wedding.

Writing now

Total votes:17

>>5919587
>>5920224
>>5920346
Thank you very much for your concern

>>5915236
I enjoyed this, especially the last few sentences of it, though the blurb of tactics was very neat
>>5923261
>>5923262
Always love hearing ice sing, something magical about it, so good use of it to set up the atmosphere and the music for the second half was really good.

This is actually pretty close to the dream I've talked about a couple of times, almost eerily so lol. You described the action of the fight. Also the three hydra stunt is very Lieren

Leaving your fellow scions of humanity to the tender care of Guozhi and the aeldari journeymen, once you had fled the hellhole that was once a functioning sanctuary for the dark natured Aeldari of wicked and vile character and a citadel for their trade of flesh and agony, but now was only a rapidly depleting anarchic battleground from which would emerge no true victor. You could trust him and them to calm their minds, mend the trauma to their wounded psyche and their battered mortal bodies, but once enough distance had been put between that disgraceful station whose ruin was ordained and wrought by your own hand, and Guozhi begins to use his gift to ease the lingering tremors of terror and mental agony from his charges, that you inspected the other victims of the evil natured Aeldari, who had been watched over by Eldrad and a number of his followers, who seemed more at ease amongst what was clearly alien. Perhaps it was because some of the aspect warriors still thought your philosophy some how to be contagious like a spoken virus or an infection of thought.

While you intended to make all haste back to Shangrala, moving with the rapidity of a wildfire or a storm's gale back into the arms of your beloved Kanzeon to drown in the emerald radiance of her fair eyes, moving quickly through the webwat with all possible swiftness, did not prevent you from studying and learning how to communicate with the "Xenos" you had picked up in your rescue. None of the green hided fungoids were present in the tally of the non human victims of the Aeldari slave trade and raiding culture, but perhaps that was for the best, as several of the alien captives were closer to plants and floral than they were living creatures.

"I could tell you what they are, and how to communicate with them" Eldrad offers off handedly as he performs some psionic ritual with a number of his entourage of lesser and junior farseers "But I would not deprive you of the challenge, even a child could sense the emotions roiling from you like heat from an open flame, so indulge yourself, consider this my gift for your wedding, as I doubt your betrothed would consider my presence alone a greatly coveted gift"

"Thank you" You say with a wry, amused smile. Though you wouldn't have refused such assistance, learning and building one's own foundations built a sturdier structure than simply building off the work of others. And an Aeldari's perspective of aliens life would be too different to be worthwhile as study material for your goal of understanding these aliens.

And by releasing your own prejudices and understanding of language and communication, you were able to quickly make a breakthrough in understanding for the tongue and psyche of one of the four races that were present amongst the survives of Aeldari cruelty.
Cont

>>5924255

Oddly, they were the least familiar and most inhuman. The plant like aliens, that resembled nothing more than ambulatory, thorned bushes with various flowers flanging orifices that were used to both intake nutrients and as grasping appendages, the petals being as tough as semi treated leather and the vine network that made up a majority of their body sturdier than human bone, though frail compared to human physiology. They moved freely and would often loosen and separate from their bulb, which you learned was their main organ and the container of their consciousness. And their writhing, untying and retying movements, was one basis of their communication, the other being subtle shifts in the arrangement of their flower petals and a release of chemicals from pores along their primary stalks.

Which comes together to make a language difficult for humans to replicate perfectly, but with pigment on hand to brush across the face and a few vials of inert chemical bases to mix and combine, you could speak to them. And after a surface scan of their mind's, non intrusive of course, you were able to learn enough of their basic "words" to strike up a conversation with the largest and apparent leader of the dozen or so Rose bush xenos in your protection.

They pause and make a movement like wilting as they swivel their mass around and lift their main head to your head level, and wringing and rubbing their secondary tendrils together, they croak back

"Gureatings fresh beahast"

They had been studying you as you studied them. But for both parties to deepen mutual and linguistic understanding with one another, you both "Speak" in the others method. This means you are dancing, swaying your limbs and contorting them while rolling your neck, using spirit's touch to smear paint across your face and uncork vials of fragrant chemicals and raw perfume base while He who greets the morning sun most proudly, rubs their vines and snaps their petals together to make vocalizations that are near to Long-Jianese.

Their term for themselves are the Nosa Rubigin, and they are a deeply spiritual people. And before meeting you, the raiders were their first encounter with sapience beyond their own. They are also deeply curious and also very touchy, especially towards your "Upward root system" which they initially believe your hair to be. And He who greets the morning sun most proudly is most grateful for saving his "Plot" and his "meadow". Which is close to the human idea of close and extended family, though it isn't an exact mirror.
Cont

>>5924256

For He who greets the morning sun most proudly is the progenitor of both his plot and his meadow, and the nearness to him is determined by which are closest to him, which from your understanding and his explanation, is a intricate political and quasi religious system which is determined by something akin to shows of filial piety, good genetics and proof of such, and communal nutrient and water gathering, all of which are considered pious acts in their society. And it is that virtue that allows the two of you, who could not be more different in thought and physiology, to understand each other. Indeed, once you figure out The Nosa Rubigin have an in grained fear of herbivorous creatures, you open your mouth to more prominently display your canines and incisor teeth, to set them at ease and draw more of the younger buds to join in the inter species exchange.

None of them have psykerist potential and their spiritual aura is weak, so communication has to be done physically and audibly, and as you learn, the organs that serve as their eyes, which detect motion and can sense changes in atmosphere, temperature and color, are arranged around their petals. Every petal.

While you'd like to study their culture, beliefs and psyches at length, simply establish a basic understanding and means to communicate will suffice for now. Though He who greets the morning sun most proudly now trails behind you, both to show his gratitude in your rescue of him and to try and continue his own study of humanity, though most of his progeny lose interest once they learn you don't intend to eat them and are a "Helpful colorful winged attendant", who will bring them to some place peaceful and well hydrated.

Though the way the Nosa Rubigin show gratitude is by pruning each other's weak or dried leaves or showering each other with water sprayed out from their "Hollowed vessel"

Eldrad and Guozhi both seem amused by the sight of you having your haired pulled and cut and while being drizzled with dew flicked from the tendrils of He who greets the morning sun most proudly.

"You can talk with the flowerbeds?" Redmond asks curiously as Curly Applegate entertains the buds who have a talent for human communication, the New varro dialect proving easier for them to mimic than Long-Jianese, though He who greets the morning sun most proudly will only speak it to you. You frown, holding up a stick as you look at the large, raptor like xenos who do not have wings and greatly resemble the cliffjumpers of Shangrala, except their tail feathers more resemble peafowl and appear to be prehensile, while their wings, which are more akin to feelers of some insects, are ringed with eyes along each "frond"

"You can speak with anything if you know its language, even animals" You answer as Redmond rubs his head and frowns, eyes shifting from the stick in your hand and the claws of the alien

"Hows this one speak?" He asks
Cont

>>5924258

"They do not vocalize to communicate except to warn of threats or perform courtship" You answer, and drive the stick down, the alien lifting up their eyeless head from the tremor in the ground "Rather, they communicate through writing or stomps, currently, I am trying to show them I can speak and am intelligent"

"If you say so" Redmon chuckles, leaving to your task

The eyeless cliff jumper aliens, call themselves the Sagit, and they are a blunt and primitive people, living in pack like tribes and having little in the way of advance culture. They also, once you figure out how to understand and reply to their stomps and break the code of their writing, have a truly annoying language which makes Long-Jianese and Aeldari seem dull, unpoetic and simple. Instead of personal names, they have stories. Their language is built on song, a silent song that they do not speak and only express audibly with series of stomps and fretful dances.

It makes absolutely no sense how such a language could develop, they don't recognize speaking as commutation at all, and singing confuses them, partially because they cannot detect any sound high pitched than a whale song or cracking ice. And thus, cannot hear their own voices. So why is their written and stomp speak language constructed through music to the point their minds have trouble recognizing and parsing any attempt at their language that is not "Spoken" as if the "Speaker" was singing them a song rich in symbolism and personal expression.

Mastering their language takes time, and with your current level of proficiency, all you are capable of is exchanging names, societal rank, and through a duet of stomped feet and spread ink, ensuring the leader of the pack that you mean them no harm by relaying the tale of their rescue up until this very moment. They aren't a curious people, and once they learn they are safe and the Nosa Rubigin are also intelligent, they return to nesting together, to, in their own song "Record this sorrowful dirge in the memory we share and grieve those who have departed for their final migration"

The next two races, are much easier to understand, which is why you saved them for later.

The amphibian race that have humanoid upper bodies, with newt like skin and rough, snake like scales, with a total of four webbed arms and floating veil like fins, are Se'ah'in. They are all in their "juvenile stage" and communicate in a song like language that, almost amusingly, is too keen and high pitched for the musical minded Sagit to pick up. They are delighted by your voice, though find your legs to be disturbing considering how close human and Se'ah'in facial features are, not quite as close as human and Aeldari, but they could be mistaken for a branch of humanity until one learns of their mindset and gets a closer look at their eyes and quarter split jaws that can be moved around to adjust their songs or use their voices as a weapon.
Cont

>>5924260

They in fact, before the dark natured Aeldari took them, had no concept of weapons and call them "Hurty tools" which is a side effect of how the rules of arranging their languages making them sound like children, which makes speaking to them with a Long Jianese mindset sound "Head hurty and sleepy" as does Aeldari, Bask and Shuni, but not New varro or Vishnu or Nuceria mindset.

They are, despite their handsome appearance, gentle expression and delicate voices, as blood thirsty and war hungry as the Vishnu Tribes, singing delightedly about tearing their captors apart and admiring your prowess in battle despite your "Gangly split tail thingy mah thingy". They are also solely carnivorous, at least in their intermediary stage from "Idiot stupid baby" to "Too slow wise sunbather", the latter of which adopts a wholey vegetarian lifestyle and according to them, loses much of the vim and violent urges that leads the juveniles to fight and war amongst themselves. You teach the smartest of them, one who calls herself "Jaw Ripper, hah hah" Long-Jianese, and she takes to it like...well a fish to water, and spreads it though her gang, who are able to grasp it quickly due to the subtle shifts in tone and pronunciation. They agree to behave so long as they're fed and entertained.

The last is a primate species that a few Aeldari heckle for being handsomer than a mon'keigh. They speak psionically, and had been gentle urging you to speak to them as they sit in a circle. And despite being a race of telepaths, they are strongly materialistic and immediately try to offer one another as sacrifice to avoid unpleasant death or at least delay it. After negotiating with them to calm their fretful thoughts, and speaking to them with your own thoughts like you were haggling, you are quick to learn they are a curious race who despite being greedy at a glance, are deeply empathetic and generous, and had thought the Aeldari fed off pain, and mistook you for one, which is why they offered the most "Wealthy" amongst them. Wealth, in their concept, being emotional strength and life experiences, once you clear up that misunderstanding and explain what wealth is from a human point of view, they are much more welcoming of you though they find it funny anyone would consider something tangible to be wealth. Which teaches you they have no concept of personal property, and consider any resources a community holds to be not important until it is required .

However, they are incredibly greedy for new knowledge, fresh experiences and shared emotions. To the point it takes a few minutes of them heaping praise and gratitude on your name and swearing to name their future children after you for you to learn what they call themselves
Cont

>>5924264

Which is nothing. They have names, but as a race, they've never though to classify their species And they don't seem to be capable of understanding why that's important, they know what they are, and you do to, so why waste precious feeling naming something as broad and intangible as a species.

So you, generously, give them a name and make a loophole around their species wide frugality on wasted emotions.

"Merchants of mirth", as they are good natured despite their greed and materialism , which is far healthier than human greed, as it doesn't drain resources or harm others as greed does and the Merchants of Mirth's version of greed is generous and selfless by nature

Which as it was given for free and by a man wealth in many strong emotions and passions, they immediately accept and swear to spread. And from further conversations with them, you learn their rank in society is determined by both psionic power, emotional depth and complete lifetime experiences, and has little if any competition. They obedient obey their betters and do not have the ambition to abuse the power they hold over the lesser.

The non intelligent primates, who the merchants of mirth tried to communicate with first, are Jokaero and can, according to Eldrad, are capable of great feats of engineering and artifice but are beyond that, instinct driven animals, though kindly and gentle by nature, have no higher intellect and will only use their innate technological prowess to satisfy their present needs.

Such as tearing apart some silk robes you give them to some how make a levitating bedding out of it, with a few wires and junk the Aeldari toss to them as a demonstration.

How truly wonderous.

What do you do once you return to Shangrala, Lieren

>Find someplace to safely keep the Nosa Rubigin, Sagit, Se'ah'in, and Merchants of Mirth, and allow with their consent further study of their species society and linguistics.

>Do not delay your wedding, but go along with the ceremony that traditionally proceeds it in Long-Jia and the machinations of various parties to make it a public affair.

>Plan the wedding with Kanzeon personally, down to the most minute detail, and offer Magnus an invitation and tell Perturabo he'd be welcome as well, deciding not to bother Angron as he rebuilds his world and establishes its new rule.

>Mischievously decide to give your astartes the "responsibility" of planning the wedding and ceremony, just to see what they'll do.

>Write in

>>5924266
>>Plan the wedding with Kanzeon personally, down to the most minute detail, and offer Magnus an invitation and tell Perturabo he'd be welcome as well, deciding to bother Angron as he rebuilds his world and establishes its new rule.
this one but invite Angron as well, no brother left behind

>>5924266 #
>>Plan the wedding with Kanzeon personally, down to the most minute detail, and offer Magnus an invitation and tell Perturabo he'd be welcome as well, deciding to bother Angron as he rebuilds his world and establishes its new rule.
this one but invite Angron as well, no brother left behind
This and
>Find someplace to safely keep the Nosa Rubigin, Sagit, Se'ah'in, and Merchants of Mirth, and allow with their consent further study of their species society and linguistics.
This :)

>>5924266
>Mischievously decide to give your astartes the "responsibility" of planning the wedding and ceremony, just to see what they'll do.

>>5924302
Support, everyone's invited. Though I am going to be curious how perty creates a Dragons Path Anchor. It'll be interesting because IF all our worlds end up linked if even briefly it'll be the biggest gathering of humanity since the Golden Age.

>>5924266
>Do not delay your wedding, but go along with the ceremony that traditionally proceeds it in Long-Jia and the machinations of various parties to make it a public affair.

>Find someplace to safely keep the Nosa Rubigin, Sagit, Se'ah'in, and Merchants of Mirth, and allow with their consent further study of their species society and linguistics.

>>5924266
>Find someplace to safely keep the Nosa Rubigin, Sagit, Se'ah'in, and Merchants of Mirth, and allow with their consent further study of their species society and linguistics.
>Plan the wedding with Kanzeon personally, down to the most minute detail, and offer Magnus an invitation and tell Perturabo he'd be welcome as well, deciding not to bother Angron as he rebuilds his world and establishes its new rule.

>>5924266
>Find someplace to safely keep the Nosa Rubigin, Sagit, Se'ah'in, and Merchants of Mirth, and allow with their consent further study of their species society and linguistics.
>Plan the wedding with Kanzeon personally, down to the most minute detail, and offer Magnus an invitation and tell Perturabo he'd be welcome as well, deciding not to bother Angron as he rebuilds his world and establishes its new rule.
>Speak with the Emperor

>>5924302
>Support.

I think the plants would enjoy a plot in the lands of Xue, on account of the waters.

>>5924266
>Find someplace to safely keep the Nosa Rubigin, Sagit, Se'ah'in, and Merchants of Mirth, and allow with their consent further study of their species society and linguistics.
>Plan the wedding with Kanzeon personally, down to the most minute detail, and offer Magnus an invitation and tell Perturabo he'd be welcome as well, Send Angron the OFFER to join the wedding and we hold no ill-will if he cannot/doesn't.
>Invite the Emperor/his best friend? (spoiler) I forgot his name.

I will not deal with Angron being Angrno later if we don't send him a wedding invition.

>>5924483
Malcador. His name is Malcador

Oh right we haven’t look into the other non-Varro foreigners so we’ll need to look into them eventually and we do need to talk to the Emperor. Honestly inviting the Emperor would be a good opportunity to speak with him and set up talks with to secure a proper alliance.

>>5924505
With Eldrad, because we invited Eldrad we can have the two talk.

>>5924266
>Find someplace to safely keep the Nosa Rubigin, Sagit, Se'ah'in, and Merchants of Mirth, and allow with their consent further study of their species society and linguistics.
We could probably keep the bloodthirsty space lamia with the similarly bloodthirsty Vishnu. The Merchants could hang out with the Wanderers at Chen Dao. The other two could probably go almost anywhere.
>Plan the wedding with Kanzeon personally, down to the most minute detail, and offer Magnus an invitation and tell Perturabo he'd be welcome as well, deciding not to bother Angron as he rebuilds his world and establishes its new rule.
>Invite the Emperor and Uncle Malcador
As if Angron wouldn't drop everything to attend. We still haven't actually told Magnus about Kanzeon, have we? And Pert knows her but not that she's a space ship with a pseudo-primarch android avatar.

>>5924509
Hopefully when they meet the Emperor can reign in the ocean of smugness welling up inside of him before Eldrad drowns in it.

>>5924302
>Support
Angron would be upset if we didn't invite him

>>5924302
+1

Ok so these Xenos are fun but aside from having to find a way to bring them home which frankly might not be possible we need to find a way for them to not just get curb stomped out of existence and maybe even aid in the development of their peoples; this ain't Star Trek fuck the Prime Directive.

Nosa Rubigin the first issue naturally is communication and frankly a simple mask could in fact allow this one designed for each species. All the mask or even scanner need do is know what a pose or colour pattern means and upon seeing it play the respective word vocally. Equally when a person speaks a word it could well play a picture of the desired movements and colours. Now as for how they can survive in the Imperium we might well have to learn more about their culture but on the surface level I do not doubt they could provide medical regents at will as a 'Tithe' of sorts. I wanna take care of the lads.

The Sagit? I'll be real this is a hard one and will take many generations as culture can only develop at the pace of communication. Maybe some gene treatments could improve their hearing range until they can hear their own voices? From there they will develop more gracefully, a blind race but no doubt worth of life and guidance until they are ready for more.

Se'ah'in; I think we found someone to adopt a bit of Vishnu culture~ If they are in fact willing we might have our first true xenos auxiliary military support unit. Let them come out for their juvenile years and see the galaxy, get their fighting and glory until they settle down taking the wisdom and experiences back home. Though I admit I have a few issues imagining them they might well make effective recon/head hunter units.

The Merchants of mirth, they are going to be a curious one whom might well just become a civilian people, their culture will suffer system shock exposed to the greater galaxy and may well be exceptionally vulnerable to the dark powers.

Jokaero ; mmmn Monke. But for real throw them at perty, have a laugh.

---
I wonder if when seeing us with all these Aliens, the tech and our optimism will the Emperor get golden age PTSD. like looking into the distant past

>>5924266
>Write in
Ok we need to delegate here; have Guozhi work to find somewhere for the aliens to chill out. Finding suitable foster groups for them until we have time to handle this proper. Eg send the Se'ah'in to learn some Vishnu.

>Plan the wedding with Kanzeon personally
1) Try to keep it relatively traditional lads
2) if the to be wife is indeed willing as "Father of the nation" ask Jinhai to give her away thus letting us have Feng as our best man.
3) Invited each Brother we're in touch with and explain how to connect the Dragon Roads. Theres' no way Perty can't come up with something surly? Magnus might well have fun astral projecting in if he can't physically make it. Naturally invite the Emperor but as a little fun grant him a "Plus One" and see whom he actually chooses to bring.