Editing The Tales of the Emperasque: Part Two (section)

==4-006-001-M42==
Astropathic communication, as humans know it, is a complex and unpleasant thing. First, one must actually be soul-stripped and rebuilt, and if that doesn’t kill you, you invariably go blind.

Not all races came into psychic power as humans did. Some races had it far before the advent of the Dark Gods rendered it unusable. The Eldar possess a very refined form of it, and are able to shape it into many forms, from divination to pyrokinesis. The Orks have a very simple form of it, binding their Wyrds to the primal force of the WAAAAAAGH. The Slaan are even more in tune than the Eldar they helped create, though they have withdrawn from the universe to meditate and taunt the lesser races. Rumors abound regarding the Tau Etherials.

But one thing is for certain: there are few psyker forces more potent than ten Eldar Craftworld Farseers in one place.


It was Farseer Macha of Biel-tan who called the meeting to order. Her voice cut through the low hum of the other assembled path-lost Seers with all the authority she could muster. “I need hardly tell you all why we’re here. The Mon-keigh Emperor is back, and he’s merged with a Warp Beast. It’s a type we’ve never seen before, with all the psychic, physical, and mental capacity that both have wielded at their peaks combined. The question is: do we attack, watch from a distance, or help out?”

Her brusque manner caused a few hackles to rise among the more conservative, older Farseers, but nobody said anything. Finally, Spiritseer Iyanna Arienal of Iyanden spoke. “What choice have we? This was something literally none of us saw. We have no choice but to let the events play out and hope that we can direct the re-emerging Imperium in a favorable direction. After all, we are only at war because of actions of Eldrad, who is gone, and Fulgrim, who betrayed the humans. This…new Emperor may be amenable to common sense.

“Perhaps, Iyanna, but the return of an entity such as their Emperor, bound to a Warp Beast of nearly indestructible strength, is not a force we can hope to direct. Frankly, Maugan Ra himself would be ill-equipped to battle such a monster if ever it would attack us,” Farseer Dra’aniel of Alaitoc replied. 

“I think that quietly letting it…him…know that we know it exists would be wise, if only to drive it to caution. It can not withstand the might of the Eldar Assembled.”

“No,” Arienal said tightly, “but neither can we afford to direct our full might against it. We are already at war with no fewer than two entire Imperial Battlegroups. How many of our Craftworlds harbor our enemies at the moment? Two? How many more have we lost? Nine?”

“Your point?” Macha replied icily. “We can hardly wait to— FUCK!” She spun around as every head in the room twisted to gaze at the distant Wraithub of Ulthwé, where the vast Webway Gates that ferried her troops into battle stood. A horrible, sickly, green glow was emanating from one of the largest gates, and Macha reeled. Her half-sister, Taldeer of Ulthwé, clasped her shoulder for a moment, and Macha shook her head free of inborn superstition. “Those accursed Necron…they are at the gates! Prepare for immediate combat!”

On the streets below, Guardians in their thousands mustered. The vast, enclosed skies of the Craftworld seemed to come alive as small fliers darted out from innumerable towers and hangars, bringing the citizen soldiers of the Craftworld to battle. Ulthwé was not one of the more populous Craftworlds, but it still could field a chilling force in its own defense. Before the gates themselves, the Aspect warriors of Ulthwé, and the guards of the Seers that had convened for this phenomenally poorly-timed meeting took positions. A wraithlord rumbled forth from a nearby shrine, and several dozen Warp Spiders took cover behind the structure of the Gates themselves.

And a single human in a ski mask carefully coiled the right sleeve of his shirt up to the shoulder, to prevent the passage of blood from interrupting his aim.

Taldeer, as the ranking Farseer present at the meeting, was first to arrive, her face grim behind her mask. Her “partner’s” total absence from sight didn’t surprise her; the human was remarkably good at remaining concealed.

The gates were starting to look downright necrotic now, with the deeply unnerving greenish glow starting to shimmer from invisible points in the air, rather than just emanating from the frame of the gates themselves. Several Wave Serpents settled to the ground before the gate complex, and over fifty more Banshees piled out, brandishing their glittering weapons. Taldeer sighed to herself as the light from the gates grew brighter and brighter, the security they had put in place to prevent the Webway from ever being used against them in their own homes clearly failing. “I wonder…” she asked herself aloud, pulling a few small blue runestones from her pocket. She knelt, casting them to the ground and watching their movements. Her brow wrinkled as one seemed to hover in midair, then gasped as it shot towards the ceiling.

“That’s…not supposed to happen…” she managed to say, just before the shimmering green glow broke out of the gates. A Necron Pariah stepped forth from the webway, brandishing its gauss stave. A warp spider, hiding behind the arch of the webway gate, pressed its weapon to the machine’s back and pulled the trigger. The Pariah flew apart with a horrid screech, but was quickly replaced by two more, who body-slammed the warp spider into the gate arch with a sickening CRACK. One of the two Pariahs lurched backward with a sizzling crater in its chest, and half a second later, an unmistakable *click* noise echoed from the top of a nearby tower. Taldeer smirked. The assassin was clearly not in poor form from his time in traction. The final Pariah fell to a sheet of shuriken from the Guardian phalanx protecting her, and her eyes were drawn back to the runestone, now lost high in the air. Despite the chaos caused by the sudden emergence of the Necrons, she couldn’t help but wonder what could have caused it.

Abruptly, a Tomb Spyder shot out of the gate. The Dark Reaper bodyguard accompanying Taldeer opened up on the base of machine’s hover-pads, dropping it like a stone. Taldeer noted with a start that it had already been damaged before it arrived, trailing sparks from its necrodermis shell. The green glow from the gates suddenly shut off, and the Webway node slowly started to shut down. Taldeer blinked in confusion. “Wait, that’s it? They only sent four units?”

Iyanna’s Wraithlord clanked up to rest alongside her, with the Spiritseer herself looking over the (limited) carnage in confusion. “Did we not see a much larger force approaching?”

Taldeer nodded and doffed her helm. “We saw a whole battalion.”

The Webway gates flared up, this time in their usual light blue. The cleanup team that had been securing the necrodermis shrapnel for disposal froze, and the Eldar troops who had been deployed around the gates snapped back to readiness. Iyanna smiled grimly. “Perhaps we spoke too soon…”

Taldeer nodded and put her helm back on, but before she do anything else, a sudden burst of pain wracked her head. She gasped and stumbled, pitching forward. She clamped her hands over her ears, not that it helps in a helmet. Her assassin partner’s voice spoke in her ear, sounding uncharacteristically worried. “Taldeer? What’s wrong?”

The Farseer straightened up, wincing. “Someone’s…coming, something that shouldn’t be in the Webway at all…I can’t even—“

CRACK. The central gate sprung to life, the eldritch energies within spilling forth. A colossal creature jumped forth, crushing the remnants of the Tomb Spyder. A streak of shimmering blue fell past it with a loud CLANG, scattering the clean-up crew. The assembled guardians collectively gasped and raised their shuriken launchers. The vast monster opened its fanged jaws and spoke. “SO WHERE IS ELDRAD THESE DAYS? I THINK HE OWES ME A FAVOR.”