The war of Tregir'Raz
Elethar stepped into the magnificent dome containing the infiniti circuit. As always, he took a moment to admire the pure splendor of it, and as always sighing as he was reminded of the cruel necessity of it. She who Thirsts is ever hungry, and the souls of the Eldar her favorite dish. Recently, a subtle beat has begun to hum within the circuit, a singular entity created from all the Eldar souls sheltering within it's respite. Elethar was still young, as far as farseers went, merely a few centuries old, and among the most inexperienced of the farseers of the craftworld Iyleath. He gestured to the young seer who accompanied him, and stepped toward the very heart of the circuit. "As your training progresses, and your skills improve, you will be allowed to begin communion with our ancestors Kiril", he told the young seer, "For now though, I would have you observe, and witness as I delve into the circuit, and tread the paths of what might yet be." In truth, although he enjoyed the experiance, he was not overly fond of his duty today. Checking the sentries over the world of Tregir’Raz, to ensure the mighty Daemon of old was still contained, was tedious. Millennia had passed, and no sign of dager had yet been seen. Elethar belived if there was a danger, it would already have come long ago. He did not tell Kiril this of course. "To enter the circuit requires absolute calm, and great concentration. Not all can do it. I believe you might yet, if you ever manage to restrain you impatiance." Kiril nodded his head in acquiescence. He will do well, Elethar though with an invard smile.
Opening himself to the circuit, he let his mind wander through the skeins of possible futures. He took a moment to attune himself, and gently steered his mind towards his chosen course. Concentrating on the immediate possible futures, he settled his mind on the world of Tregir’Raz. Unbeknownst to the millions of Mon'Keigh now inhabiting the planet, below them lay imprisoned a Daemon of unspeakeble might. According to the elder farseers, it took nearly all of the craftworlds farseers to contain the beast to begin with, and most died for their effort. None of the surviving farseers were still alive today. Expanding his mind to the broader reaches of possibility, he dutifully examined the nearby future. Patiently tuning his mind further and further into the future, his mind drifted towards other thoughts. A troubling sensation brought his mind back on track, when suddenly he was assaulted by a dread so strong his mind was almost ripped from him. Snapping the connection with a scream Elethar fell back from the circuit. Cursing himself for doing the very thing he warned Kiriel about, he started to rise, when it suddenly hit him. Chaos! He had sensed chaos! Trembling, he got to his feet, and turned to look at Kiriel, who stood ridgid, frozen with terror, his face deathly pale. Placing his hand on Kiriel's forehead, invoking a rune of calm, he gently smoothed the dread that had frozen Kiriel's mind. Shaking Violently, Kiriel turned a horrified look on Elethar. Letting out a sigh of relief, realizing no permanent harm was caused to Kiriel from the experiance, he addressed Kiriel. "You are lucky, and strong, Kiriel. That experiance might quickly have killed less strong willed. As it stands, I think you've had quite enough for a while. I suggest you go rest, and recover from the ordeal. I will have to investigate this much further, and I need utter calm and concentration. I fear something dire might happen.
As Kiriel left the chambers, Elethar again settled in front of the circuit, steeling himself for the coming ordeal. Invoking runes of protection, he again entered the trance, and delved into the skeins of possibility. Careful not to dive headlong into the trap which almost consumed him last, he gingerly let his mind drift towards that thread which spelled doom. There, a faint echo.. and then.. With a tremendous force the impact hit him again. This time he was prepared. Yes, there was no doubt. Chaos had heard the psykic scream emitted so long ago. And they were coming. A sudden surge in the warp threatened to engulf him, but he fended it off. This was no random attack, this was directed at him. The sorcerors of chaos had noticed someone scrying. Cursing, he triggered runes to conceal his actions. With luck, they did not know the nature of the telling. Shifting his mind on the strands of possibility, he passed the certainty of Chaos, and focused on the potential outcome. War, ruin, pain, death and damnation everywhere he looked. Uncontested, chaos would ravage the world, and free the beast. Something must be done, and time runs short. Directing his thoughs along the myriad of possibilities for interventions, he struggled to figure out how to best prevent this disaster. War seemed inevitable, but maybe something could be done to prevent the release of the mighty Daemon. He cared nothing for the simple minded Mon'keigh inhabiting the planet, but the Daemon would surely remember it's imprisonment, and after feasting on the Mon'Keigh he would seek revenge on the Eldar of Iyleath. Again and again he searched for a way to prevent disaster, and he could find nothing the Eldar could do to prevent it. Sighing, he realized that the help of the weak willed Mon'Keigh were neccesary to successfully prevent this disaster. Adjusting his thoughs, and directing them towards the movements of the Imperium, he searched for a way to let them take the brunt of the damage for repelling Chaos. After all, what worth are a few million Mon'Keigh compared to the life of even a single Eldar? The answer eluded him, and he quickly realized the humans alone had no chance to avert the doom approaching. Against his will, he began to fortell the outcome of an alliance with the humans. Together they must stand a chance. A torrent of possibilities assailed him. Trying to sort out the best possible solutions, one instance kept repeating itself. No matter how the battle was to be fought, there would be treason within the imperium itself. Cursing again, Elethar grimly accepted this foretold future, what must be endured, could be endured. Having finally decided upon the only path that could lead to victory, he began foretelling how the battle would unfold. Tracing the possible futures, his mind suddenly stumbeled upon an intelligence so alien and incomprehensible, the connection was nearly severed. Tyranids!? Here? Now? The appearance of the devourer could not possibly be more untimely. But to what result? Will it fight working for, or against chaos? Elethar could not tell. A wildcard, a very dangerous wildcard at that. What must be, will be he though grimly. Accepting the inevitable he doggedly continued his reading. Blood, death, terror, aguish and despair. Elethar let out a mirthless bark, what else to expect when Chaos is involved. Trying to forsee the end of the struggle, he suddenly lost his sight. It felt like drowning into a pool of nothing. Suddenly he was blind, he could foresee nothing more. A dread crept over him, he had heard of this feeling. Those who left the farseers blind. The Necrontyr. The old ones. Shaking violently, utterly exhausted Elethar broke the connection. Sagging to his knees, his mind reeled over the coming confrontation. A terrible war, with no surety of victory, and the very survival of the craftworld at stake. He began to weep.
The council chambers emptied. The news he brought to the great council had been met with shock. Given his specific knowledge of what was to come, he was granted command of the forces that would wage this war. Kiriel walked a step behind him. "Any orders?" he asked grimly. "Yes. Several in fact. First, send word through the webway, I need more information on this Daemon, information that lies only within the black library. Send for the Harlequins, their knowledge will be needed, if they will aid. Second, send word to the aspect shrines, and summon the young king, I fear we shall need the Avatars leadership in this. Third, come by my chambers later, I have a message to send to a certain inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus I happen to know of. It is imperative they join in this endeavour. If not, I fear our chances are slim. Very slim."
Opening himself to the circuit, he let his mind wander through the skeins of possible futures. He took a moment to attune himself, and gently steered his mind towards his chosen course. Concentrating on the immediate possible futures, he settled his mind on the world of Tregir’Raz. Unbeknownst to the millions of Mon'Keigh now inhabiting the planet, below them lay imprisoned a Daemon of unspeakeble might. According to the elder farseers, it took nearly all of the craftworlds farseers to contain the beast to begin with, and most died for their effort. None of the surviving farseers were still alive today. Expanding his mind to the broader reaches of possibility, he dutifully examined the nearby future. Patiently tuning his mind further and further into the future, his mind drifted towards other thoughts. A troubling sensation brought his mind back on track, when suddenly he was assaulted by a dread so strong his mind was almost ripped from him. Snapping the connection with a scream Elethar fell back from the circuit. Cursing himself for doing the very thing he warned Kiriel about, he started to rise, when it suddenly hit him. Chaos! He had sensed chaos! Trembling, he got to his feet, and turned to look at Kiriel, who stood ridgid, frozen with terror, his face deathly pale. Placing his hand on Kiriel's forehead, invoking a rune of calm, he gently smoothed the dread that had frozen Kiriel's mind. Shaking Violently, Kiriel turned a horrified look on Elethar. Letting out a sigh of relief, realizing no permanent harm was caused to Kiriel from the experiance, he addressed Kiriel. "You are lucky, and strong, Kiriel. That experiance might quickly have killed less strong willed. As it stands, I think you've had quite enough for a while. I suggest you go rest, and recover from the ordeal. I will have to investigate this much further, and I need utter calm and concentration. I fear something dire might happen.
As Kiriel left the chambers, Elethar again settled in front of the circuit, steeling himself for the coming ordeal. Invoking runes of protection, he again entered the trance, and delved into the skeins of possibility. Careful not to dive headlong into the trap which almost consumed him last, he gingerly let his mind drift towards that thread which spelled doom. There, a faint echo.. and then.. With a tremendous force the impact hit him again. This time he was prepared. Yes, there was no doubt. Chaos had heard the psykic scream emitted so long ago. And they were coming. A sudden surge in the warp threatened to engulf him, but he fended it off. This was no random attack, this was directed at him. The sorcerors of chaos had noticed someone scrying. Cursing, he triggered runes to conceal his actions. With luck, they did not know the nature of the telling. Shifting his mind on the strands of possibility, he passed the certainty of Chaos, and focused on the potential outcome. War, ruin, pain, death and damnation everywhere he looked. Uncontested, chaos would ravage the world, and free the beast. Something must be done, and time runs short. Directing his thoughs along the myriad of possibilities for interventions, he struggled to figure out how to best prevent this disaster. War seemed inevitable, but maybe something could be done to prevent the release of the mighty Daemon. He cared nothing for the simple minded Mon'keigh inhabiting the planet, but the Daemon would surely remember it's imprisonment, and after feasting on the Mon'Keigh he would seek revenge on the Eldar of Iyleath. Again and again he searched for a way to prevent disaster, and he could find nothing the Eldar could do to prevent it. Sighing, he realized that the help of the weak willed Mon'Keigh were neccesary to successfully prevent this disaster. Adjusting his thoughs, and directing them towards the movements of the Imperium, he searched for a way to let them take the brunt of the damage for repelling Chaos. After all, what worth are a few million Mon'Keigh compared to the life of even a single Eldar? The answer eluded him, and he quickly realized the humans alone had no chance to avert the doom approaching. Against his will, he began to fortell the outcome of an alliance with the humans. Together they must stand a chance. A torrent of possibilities assailed him. Trying to sort out the best possible solutions, one instance kept repeating itself. No matter how the battle was to be fought, there would be treason within the imperium itself. Cursing again, Elethar grimly accepted this foretold future, what must be endured, could be endured. Having finally decided upon the only path that could lead to victory, he began foretelling how the battle would unfold. Tracing the possible futures, his mind suddenly stumbeled upon an intelligence so alien and incomprehensible, the connection was nearly severed. Tyranids!? Here? Now? The appearance of the devourer could not possibly be more untimely. But to what result? Will it fight working for, or against chaos? Elethar could not tell. A wildcard, a very dangerous wildcard at that. What must be, will be he though grimly. Accepting the inevitable he doggedly continued his reading. Blood, death, terror, aguish and despair. Elethar let out a mirthless bark, what else to expect when Chaos is involved. Trying to forsee the end of the struggle, he suddenly lost his sight. It felt like drowning into a pool of nothing. Suddenly he was blind, he could foresee nothing more. A dread crept over him, he had heard of this feeling. Those who left the farseers blind. The Necrontyr. The old ones. Shaking violently, utterly exhausted Elethar broke the connection. Sagging to his knees, his mind reeled over the coming confrontation. A terrible war, with no surety of victory, and the very survival of the craftworld at stake. He began to weep.
The council chambers emptied. The news he brought to the great council had been met with shock. Given his specific knowledge of what was to come, he was granted command of the forces that would wage this war. Kiriel walked a step behind him. "Any orders?" he asked grimly. "Yes. Several in fact. First, send word through the webway, I need more information on this Daemon, information that lies only within the black library. Send for the Harlequins, their knowledge will be needed, if they will aid. Second, send word to the aspect shrines, and summon the young king, I fear we shall need the Avatars leadership in this. Third, come by my chambers later, I have a message to send to a certain inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus I happen to know of. It is imperative they join in this endeavour. If not, I fear our chances are slim. Very slim."
posted by SnakeEyes at 10:58 AM
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