Guardsman Fjorn Windcaller knew he was in luck. After his little encounter some eldar patrol that had tried to scout out his exact position, he had found himself a pretty little prize. Farseer Linia, or baby elf as Fjorn called her, found it had to control his mind. "I do not know what tricky you have used to block my powers, but I will get through in a matter of time!" Fjorn sighed to himself, whatever she was talking about doing to him would never happen. "I think that was the fiftieth time you've said that, baby elf." Fjorn couldn't help but smile, feeling the burning glare of the Farseer burrow into the back of his head. It had been ten hours since the capture of the Farseer and he has already noticed the increase of eldar forces, looking for the Farseer. He heard a little crackling out in the snow covered woods, a footstep of a woman with a small figure and little armor weighs her down.
"Well then, it looks like we should start moving again..." Fjorn mumbled to himself. The Farseer looked back up. "You will not put that foul object in my mo-" Fjorn shoved a dirty sock back into her mouth and put some spices under her nose to put her to sleep. "One day, I'll be in my warm cottage in Dren'vinal and I'll forget all about this stupid situation." he pulled out a strange bow with two carved in wolves eating a snake. Fjorn readied his bow and arrow and donned his hood."If the old gods are here with me now, then hear my prayers."
"Farseer! You're alive!" Zelian, a banshee exarch was running towards a half dazed Farseer along with three of her banshees. "Is...is he gone?" Zelian shook her head but smiled. "He will not even try and attack battle tested banshees! And as long as you are still here, we will not stop until you are back to the craftworld." Linia smiled, "Thank you, but now we must leave, I fear he might be bold enough to attack us head on." A second after Farseer Linia said that, an arrow struck one of the banshees in the neck as her two other comrades screamed out her name. One ran into the forest, yelling out profanities. Another second past as the yelling stopped.
"Hold, Arnelia; do not let him draw you into his trap. Proceed with caution, but protect the Farseer with your life."
"Yes, exarch." Arnelia said, trying desperately hard to keep in her sorrow.
As the banshees edged into the forest, they attempted to keep their steps and their weapons silent and hidden. Lenia followed in their footsteps as she tried focusing her powers and feeling the forest around her. "Farseer, what do you sense?"
"He is near, though he is keeping himself hidden very well."
"Exarch, look!" a few meters away was the banshee that had ran into the woods, looking for her comrade's killer. She was laying against a large oak tree gripping her sword and pistol. Her comrade began to run towards her comrade in order to help her to her feet. "No, you fool wai-" it was too late. A second later, a large, wooden spike lay on top of her head. Slowly, she turned to face her exarch, taking a few steps towards her beloved leader and friend as if she could help her and her comrade, then falling as he body twitched.
"Damn that mon'keigh!" the exarch yelled. She dropped her shuriken pistol and gripped her sword.
"Come out, you cowardly demon! Come and face me in combat!"
As if he was commanded by Zelian, he jumped out from behind the Farseer, pushing her aside and thrusting a small dagger towards the exarch's face. Zelian dodged with little effort and went to slice Fjorn in two. Fjorn parried with his second blade and was forced back by her blade. Fjorn threw his dagger at her leg and ran off behind a tree. Zelian sidestepped and laughed as she chased after him.
"You can kill from the shadows, but you cannot kill honorably? You mon'keighs are pathetic!"
"We sure are smarter than you, though." Zelian laughed as she began to home in on the source of his voice.
"I'll give you credit, though, you are a very smart guardsman. If only you were born as an eldar, you could have been the greatest of our kind!"
"Doubt it, but tell me, banshee, what do you know of the hall of warriors?"
"Another of your races pathetic myths? Tell me about this Hall of Warriors." she heard his voice grew louder. She was getting close.
"It is where warriors, generals, kings, and heros go when they die in combat. Where the mead is endless and the grand hall is filled with songs and stories of the olden heros of ancient times! Where only the greatest and the bravest warriors are allowed to sit at the table of the great king, Odin. Oh, how my father used to tell me the stories of how my ancestors, even before the great clans of ancient Terra were even created, fought in massive battles and their deeds were spread throught the lands of how courageous and ferocious they were in combat." Zelian knew where he was, behind the large tree in front of her.
"And this is where you think you will go, mon'keigh?" she readied her sword and prepared for the satisfying death of this guardsman.
"No, it is hardly my time, far from it actually. My father said that a man knows when he will die when he sees a woman he has never seen before washing his armor. I haven't seen anything like that. But, tell me banshee, do you think only the bravest and the strongest warriors get to see the great halls?"
"If so, your out of luck!" Zelian leap behind the tree and struck...
She heard the tug of string and slowly looked behind her to see the guardsman with a bow and arrow.
"the smartest and fastest are allowed in there too, kill counts also help your chances getting in as well." Fjorn let his arrow fly. Zelian had no time to duck or dodge, only wonder if she would ever she her comrades again. Pain struck her head, as she feel into a deep sleep. It was funny, though, she thought she had heard her name being called and songs where being sung. Maybe the human was right, maybe she would apologize to him when she sees him.
Moderator edit: Word count 1100
Take a look at all the primarchs that stayed loyal.
Dead, missing, or in critical condition.
Now, take a look at the chaos primarches.
One missing primarch, the rest are Daemon Princes.
Chaos, The Better Solution.
Paid for by the Word Bearers.
Last edited by demonlord24; 04-19-12 at 04:34 PM.
Reason: Word count was a little too high...