Xenos Introductions

[IncubiLord]

Any Xenos player may post his introductory story here.

[easye]

Kaptin Grimgrod Rotgut wasn't the biggest Ork in his tribe, but he was definately the cunningest. He keeps his position as Kaptin by utilizing every dirty trick, and making up a few of his own. To help keep him on top, his personal retinue is hand chosen for their stupidity and lack of subtlety. If one does get a bright idea, Rotgut has no compunction about getting them killed in battle, or some other accident.

Rotgut himself was spored from a Blood Axe, but his tribe is a mish-mash of clans. Most of the ladz are survivors from the failed Waaagh! Narblitz, which accounts for the high numbers of Deathskulls. Rotgut managed to lead his band of boyz off planet by being in the employ of a fleeing fugitive ex-Imperial. It wasn't long before Rotgut decided to take-over the ship and enslave the crew.

Rotgutz Skulsmash Reeverz now pillage and loot lightly defended targets and colonies. Unlike most Orks, Rotgut isn't looking for a tough fight, he wants the easy pickings. With a crew of human slaves, gretchin, and some particularly cunning Mekboyz, the Kaptin has managed to burn a path of destruction to get in on some lucrative looting. However, it's taking a toll on his ship, and it's ability to keep operational is in doubt. A new ship is in order.

The squable between Dakkaslag and Skabrod means little to the Kaptin. All he wants is loot, slaves, more boyz and more Go Fasta in Space. However, it's a nice chance for a Blood Axe of low cunning to play the spoiler, make a tidy bit of flash and acquire a new ship.

'Ere we go, 'ere we go, 'ere we go!

[Norminator]

Shas'o Montyr Anuk watched from the open ramp of the Orca as the battle swirled beneath him. He smiled grimly as his battle plan fell perfectly into effect, D'Eldi Nan living up to its name as it rapidly outflanked the enemy column. The lone roar of an engine signalled the arrival of the Air Caste support he had requested, a single Tigershark sweeping beneath him and unleashing a volley of seeker missiles into a row of enemy tanks. The blossoming flames illuminated a team of Piranha skimmers which were strafing a group of troops, viciously fighting to keep them penned in. It was time for O'Anuk to join the battle.

With a flex of his suit's knee joints O'Anuk leapt from the Orca, the tumult of the battle drowned out by the wind whipping past. His sensors registered that his team members had followed, each rapidly descending towards the fray. O'Anuk's automatic retro thrusters kicked in and he landed softly, kicking up a cloud of dust as he touched down, firing as he did so. The enemy, trapped between the twin swords of Anuk's force were crushed as the Tau moved onto the offensive, switching from pinning fire to massacre the enemy. Within minutes it was over, the remaining enemy units being chased down by fast scout units.

As O'Anuk's cadre left Medusa a scrambled distress call was recorded. Details were sketchy; all that Anuk knew was that all available Cadres were to answer the call. As one of the most undamaged of the units to serve on Medusa, Anuk offered the 3rd Expeditionary immediately. It was a decision he would soon learn to regret.

[kyrolon]

A sense of intense anticipation reigned in the portal chamber of the Messenger of Triumph. The Eclipse class cruiser sat motionless in the planetary shadow of the third world of the system the humans called Tiorl. Its small flotilla of attendant escorts patrolled nearby space stealthily under the cover of their holofields. For two weeks now they had remained in place awaiting a reply from agents working within the vast network of the webway telling them that the time was right for operations to begin. Farseer Vialia of Alaitoc waited patiently in the portal chamber for the message to arrive. During her reflections earlier in the day she had forseen the arrival of the messenger this night. All around her the emotions of her acolytes sang in her mind. Their anticipation was keen, and so it sang to her mind like the rare matheli birds that flitted about the gardens of memory on Alaitoc. They were a very young group of apprentices and they had yet to see service away from the Craftworld, unlike the more experienced cadre brought by her fellow Farseer Jaheris.

While she let her mind flow through the strands of emotions about her the stones powering the ship’s warp portal began to glow with imminent activation. She pulled herself back from the others’ mindglows. The area within the arch of the gate filled with a silver pool of radiance that reflected the chamber about them. Then with a sudden ripple across its surface a single figure stepped through. The new comer was tall and lithe, even for one of the Eldar race, and she wore a garish costume in black and green with small baubles and jewels dangling from various locations about her person. Her face was covered by a mask. It was smooth and featureless on one half and bore a disconcerting laughing face on the other half.

“Greetings, Harlequin,” the Farseer intoned, for that was the only name she knew the other woman by. The Harlequin, in turn made a graceful forward hand spring to stand before Vialia.

“Greetings, laudable lady leader of the loyal host.”

She spoke in the manner of all Harlequins with a voice that seemed to be on the edge of laughter. No matter who they spoke to or what they spoke of the servants of the laughing god always seemed amused.

“What have you found?”

“The fallen who walk in the dark places of the great way have arrived before you, Lady. What they plan only they can say, but their plans may prove useful to you as well. My troupe has found the location of a portable gate they have set up on the surface of the seventh world. You may be able to use it to position forces of your own if you wish. In this way you could establish your own gates upon the surface of this world.”

“Excellent,” the Farseer replied. It would be nice to turn the machinations of their dark kin to the benefit of the Craftworld for once. She concentrated for a moment and sent a mental summons to her chief scout. They waited in silence for him to arrive.

The Ranger strode into the room with a comfortable gait, his color shifting cameleoline cloak flowing about him.

“Reghild, take two of your squads and two portable warpgates. It is time we established a presence on this world.”

“As you wish, Vialia.”

The Harlequin turned her head toward the Ranger, “come son of Hoec, I will lead you on the path to the gate of the Dark Ones, if you dare follow.”

“I do dare, Harlequin, and as we travel we shall sing the songs of rememberance.”

Vialia did not know what was going on behind the mask, but she sensed a smile as the strange woman nodded.

The ranger teams deployed into the webway following their Harlequin guide and Vialia returned to her meditation. She reviewed again the vision she had that inspired this expedition, and caused her to leave Alaitoc for the first time since her rise to the rank of Farseer. She had seen a massive hulk emerging from darkness, and within its confines was a ship of dark crystal, shining in the light of twin stars. That ship called to her in a siren song she could not resist. The vision was unclear as to what about the ship was important. The vision was unclear if it even was the ship that called to her or simply some strand of fate that would be important to Alaitoc. The vision suggested there was something or someone here she could save, and in doing so she could turn back the tide of darkness a little longer.

Jaheris had surprised her in supporting her decision in the seer council, and she suspected he had visions of his own that influenced him to come. He was ever eager to strike a blow at the Imperium of Man in retribution for all the young outcasts they had killed over the years attempting to learn secrets they had no right to know. For that reason, and because he was the senior, she had agreed to deploy raiding parties to the surface first. They would strike there at the humans and at the green skinned vermin who had settled beside them.

She believed that such a distraction would allow the Messenger of Triumph to get close enough to deliver her force to the surface of the large space hulk that drifted through the system as she had foreseen. Gaerin, the Autarch commanding the Messenger, agreed with her plan in principle, but wished to be cautious with the use of his vessel as it was their only way home. He had been charged by the other seers to see to it that Vialia and Jaheris did not risk themselves more than necessary.

She focused again from her wanderings and watched her vision unfold. She saw…nothing. The future was clouded and gray. The strands of the future were in flux now and like the Messenger riding a solar storm, all she could do is ride out the waves of the actions she had put into motion.

[IncubiLord]

Pain-Lord Malkyrus watched the footage of cameoline-cloaked figures deploying from the portal onto the surface of Tiorl 7, and smiled to himself.

He knew not why the Dark Prince had insisted on leaking the location of a portal to the Harlequins, with the obvious consequence being that they would give the craftworlders, but he did find their presence to always be entertaining. It would further amuse him to see how well they could stomach their "fallen" cousins in this situation.

When they finished setting up their own devices, they would find that this one was now missing, having been retrieved by the Mandrakes for later use. A good surgeon looked after his tools.

Of further interest were the workings of two lesser members of the Dark Court. While it was clear that one was allowing his envy of the other to goad him into an attack upon the Great Enemy and the other was moving directly to intercept the Warp-infused vessel that had been left by the storms for her own reasons, neither had called upon the Dark Court for assistance. Perhaps both suspected the other's presence, and neither wanted to risk losing their status within the alliance by forcing a decision...

No, it was too early for such speculation. That two members of the alliance would come to this backwaters locale in secret was enough to pique Malkyrus' interest, and permission to investigate had been readily given. Soon, he would need to decide where his own troops would be deployed, and there was much to discover before that.

A Grotesque shambled up to his table, and Malkyrus' attention returned to the here and now. "What is it, Ny'tzueq?"

The creature held up its arm, the canister strapped to it bearing Ra'obith's personal rune. No longer capable of speech, Ny'tzueq was often used as a message-carrier aboard the slave barges. "Ah, the Mandrakes have come back to report their findings aboard that Warp-rock. Let's see what they recorded for us..."

[rddragon5]

The recent dissipation of the warp storms surrounding the Tiorl system had created a minor vacuum in the warp and had sucked Spiritseer Vralis’s small fleet into the area. Sensing the presence of other Eldar in the area he guided his Wraithships into communication range. The yellow and blue ships using the solar winds of the systems two suns to glide around the debris heavy area of space. As the ships moved in he could feel the spirits of thousands of souls floating though the wraithbone of the ships tensing up, and feeding off his own anxiety that this system was giving him.

One of the few living members of the crew, a communications operator turned to the Spiritseer to address him, “Sir we are now in rage for you to speak to the other craftworlders.”

Nodding Vralis straightened up in his command seat and cleared his voice motioning to the coms operator to open a channel, “This is Spiritseer Vralis commander of the scout fleet ‘Soul’s Reckoning’ offing my services to any other craftworld who requests it,” he took a small pause and continued. “I await your response,” and with that motioned to cut the signal.

“Now all we need is a little help, and a lot of luck,” he said to himself, setting back down in his beautifully crafted command seat.

[kyrolon]

Gaerin looked up at the sound of the soft chime that rang through the bridge of the Messenger of Triumph. He saw the contact himself, but waited for the young sensor technician to evaluate the information for himself and make a proper report.

"Autarch, the sensors indicate a second force of Wraithships has entered the system. They did not exit via the warpgate. It seems they were ejected from the dissipating warpstorm."

"Do we have any identification?"

"No we do not. But it appears they have found and are attempting to communicate with the escorts."

"Have they answered?"

"Not yet, My Lord. They are awaiting orders from us."

"Very well. Connect me to the new comers by way of the Anthelion's spirit matrix."

"As you wish, my Lord. Shall I inform Farseer Vialia."

"I suspect she will already be aware. I will make the first contact."

Gaerin placed his hand on the stone of his command chair that would activate his ship's communications array.

"Unknown Wraithships, this is Autarch Gaerin of Alaitoc. We have recieved your message. Please state your place of origin and intentions in this system. Also be warned that there are hostile forces of the lesser races as well as our own Dark Kindred in the system. We will evaluate your offer of assistance once we establish your identity and switch to secure communications."

Gearin cut the communication relay through the small escort ship that would appear to be the point of origin.

"That was a little abrupt, was it not, Autarch, " came Vialia's voice from behind him.

"We do not know who they are, Farseer. There are dark kin already here, it may be a trap to force us to reveal the location of the Messenger."

"They are Eldar, Gaerin, of another craftworld I suspect, but true to the path nonetheless. They are also uneasy. We will await their leader's reply."

The Farseer turned to leave the bridge in a soft swirl of robes.

"And, Gaerin, remember who is in charge here. Do not usurp my authority again."


Player's post script: rddragon, if you wish to continue the story of the communication I suggest we move it to the Eldar forum to leave room for intros here, and so we can have our "secure" communication link established. ;D

[Grey Hunter]

Warm fluids gone... darkness receded... shapes, no movement... scent, blood, near... move... approach... prey found... loud noise, brightness... pain, anger... leap... prey flees... chase... pounce... tear, bite, claw, slash... warm fluids... taste... Hive Mind pleased... scent... others nearby, both colony and prey... noise in mind louder than all the voices... noise in mind drowning out loud noises outside... big colony-mates approaching... smell more prey... still meat left on this one... biomass... Consume! Consume! Consume!

[althanan]

The threat long-felt was here, in this system... the Eye-With-No-Head was here. Whatever it was that was to doom Mielnan, it was here. If the lives of hundreds of thousands of Eldar were to be saved... it was to be here that the stand would be taken.

Farsser Althanan opened his eyes.

[witchking92]

+++++Begin Intercepted Transmission+++++
+++++Location:Tiorl 7, Squiggly Wilds++++

Dis is Lewtenant Kaptun Skargurbb, of da Merkenaryz of Strefan Prwime. Wes is gonna fight fo' Dakkaslag, cause 'es payin' us da big
buck. We is gonna move in on da pansies an' da sissies o' battle. Dey is weedie an' we's will gonna krump dem ded gud.

We is da sneakiest an' da best boyz rouwnd. Wez already krumpt sum Pansies an' scared dem out of da Squiggly Wilds. An wes causen' lotza damage to da Sissies o' battle. We is gonna krumpt dem Pansies ded gud in a coulpea' days. Den dis war is gonna be ova'.

Wes gotz lotta boyz an' such, an' a couple loota bassies, so we is gonna waaaghh fo' dakkaslag. I'm Skargrubb da sneakist boy an' da smartest an' da biggest too! I krumpt da 'ummies on Strethan Prime, I krumpt wit da Mortales Praetorians agains't da Firteef Legion an' wes krumpt da pansies on Medoosa V. I is da Kaptun of da Speswhul Ops an' we is so sneaky dat youz weedy yoofs can't even see us.

So dis is a warning to all da otha' gitz on Tiowal Seban an' da 'ulk: Skargrubbs Mekararies o' Strephan Prime are 'ere an' we is gonna krump fo' Dakkaslag
++++End Intercepted Transmission++++

Witchking92

[raziel]

Lord Nira looked down to the bay of his tomb ship, to see his legion reactivate themselves warrior by warrior. For many years now he and the members of the Forgotten legion had been active, travelling the galaxy and taking part in many battles against a multitude of different foes. The legion had acquired a relative amount of success, destroying legion upon legion of humans, tau, tyranid beasts and Orks. Even the mighty Eldar had fell to the Necron war machine. And from these battles a number of deadly enemies had been found, from the foul forces of the chaos hordes to the dastardly farseers of the Eldar, but nothing compared to the oncoming battle to secure the space hulk from the ages past. Nothing that the legion had faced before was as urgent as this.

The legion had been repairing itself from a recent battle on a planet that now lay far away from the tomb ships current location, and one by one filed into there positions within the tomb awaiting to act out their lords commands. The attacks that the legion gave in their most recent battle where fierce, but they where only one legion. Little aid was given by the other Necron forces so the damage that the Necrons dealt was minimal from what could have been a successful invasion became a mere raid. In the end the legion was forced to retreat. The Necron lord had already begun his plan on preventing this from happening once again. The Tomb ship sent out a distress signal for miles around. Undetectable for the lesser races. Before the Necron lord and his legion could travel towards the space hulk, other Necrons needed to be gathered or at least be warned of the dangerous weapon of the past that had repapered in the galaxy once more.

The tomb ship glided through space swiftly the current course that the ship had taken sent them through a number of planets and moons, all of which where littered with life. It was tempting to launch raids on every one of the planets that held the filth that was life, yet a more urgent matter lay ahead, and if any other of the lesser races would dare stand in the legions way then they will die a glorious death. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[LordJET]

Throughout space the hibernating tomb ship drifted awaiting its designated time of activation for the great harvest. As millennia had passed the tomb ship had slumbered undisturbed by the wars of the living it would one day cull. No sign of life or glimmer of movement had intruded upon its occupants since the extermination of the Old Ones…until now.

In the depths of the command deck the Tomb Ships computers detected an encoded signal that could only have come from a Necron vessel, in the space of a second the contents of the message had been analysed. The tomb ship burst into life and the hibernation of its keepers was abruptly broken, Lord JET strode to the computer banks to see what had awoken them ahead of schedule, before him lay a telemetry analysis of the Tiorl System accompanied by Lord Nira’s distress signal. When the Lords gaze fell upon the image of the ancient space hulk his mind networked with the ships engines and laid in a course for the Tiorl System at maximum speed, he was needed and his legion was already awakening.

Far above the Tiorl System the Tomb Ship fell into formation with Lord Nira’s vessel…let the harvest commence!

[Commander Sureblade]

There it was. Tiorl 7. the site of the Great Devourer. So it had come here too?

They would find Warhost Arzar well able to combat it.

Razora turned from the viewing portal to his assembled brethen. No Farseers were here, only the selected commanders of the Guardian Squads and Exarchs of the temples represented here.

Warhost Arzar, his Warhost, was no normal Iyanden Army. Ghost warriors were in attendance, but they were not the foot troops here. No, Arzar was different.

Recruiting from several Craftworlds that served with Iyanden against the Tyranids, Warhost Arzar had none of the troop-power shortages of other warhosts. well equiped and well armed, Arzar could boost of an impressive record of victories against the lesser races and experience in all fields of warfare. Swooping hawks from the Craftworld Irecaki, Striking Scorpions from the 'shadow runners' Temple, Vyper and Jetbike Squads of the 'Flaming sword'. Arzar could count on a pool of experienced troops.

but the Tyranids here. They were different.

intercepts from the planet already spoke of bodies found with soul stones missing. such vile mutalation of Eldar bodies could not go unpunished. Razora himself had fumed with Anger, but he had channelled that Anger. Stored it away. awaiting the time to unleash it on the foe.

They would find the soul stones. They would hunt the Old foe. and they would defeat them. and none of the lesser races would stand in there way.

"brothers, let us prepare for war."