NationStates Jolt Archive

The Serpent shall return and coil,
insidious as shadow, untameable as night.
Space shall run red with Eldanesh's blood.
The Devoured Ones shall come forth,
and they shall doom us all;
our efforts shall meet their end,
and all shall seem lost.
I have seen their Mark,
branded upon young and old,
Eldar and Mon-Keigh alike.
No mercy shall be shown,
to the sons of Isha;
and only the Bloody Handed One,
shall offer sanctuary against it

Words of Farseer Idiana; Craftworld Iyanden

Darkness stained the void; a living darkness, it seemed; coiled and shadowed, came the vessel; the vast Tombship of the C'tan, the Serpent, Set'thiran. It let it's necrodermis fingers slip over the throne; teasing at the material; sliding along its edges; laughing softly. They had come forth, in all their deathly splendor, to bring darkness and damnation to the Eldar. The opportunity to toy with a creation of the Old ones, was not one to be passed up; and given the hardships of Iyanden; all they need do was draw out the ship; and let the feast commence.

They had found a world; an Eldar exodite world; and begun in earnest; teleporting their troops to the ground below; the skimmers of Heavy Destroyers and Destroyers sliding forth to meet the Eldar; Gauss weapons crackling and firing; as Pariahs, Immortals; Scarab swarms and Tomb-Spyders, materialised in the fray; gauss crackling, seething forht to consume their prey.

A Monolith descended from orbit; it's portal acting as a gateway for the troops of the Living Dead; the Devoured Ones, who stalked the stars without hunger. They had been consumed countless millennia ago; by their inhuman, uncaring Gods. And now; they fought the eternal war; unwavering in the face of the enemy; unyielding in their darkest moments.

They fought galiantly. They fought with purpose. They fought not only for their own existance, but the existance of the rest of the galaxy. They could not allow the Necrontyr to be free to roam the galaxy, devouring the souls of whom ever they wished.

Great Fire Prisms launched their wide deadly red beam of death at the floating metal monstrosities. Guadian defenders rained down a seemingly infinite number of Shuriken fire from their weapons on the minions attacking from the ground.

Different Aspect Warriors who had joined the Exodites in defending, were all in full swing. Dark Reaper squads tore at enemy heavy units with reaper launchers spraying. Dire Avengers again rained down monomolecular death upon the enemy. Warp Spiders flashed in and out of existance, throwing death nets at groups of enemies.

All this would not save them from the enchroaching doom. Many were falling, and many more were having too much trouble to keep the Necrontyr at bay. They did the unthinkable, atleast for them. They called out help, but not to the mongrel races of the universe, but to fellow Eldar, where ever they may be.
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"Farseer, we are receiving an encoded distress signal, it is from an Exodite world, they seek help."

The Farseer had to sit down. She took deep breaths, and finally spoke, calmly, and firmly.

"Who is assaulting our great battered Brethren of the planet?"

"Farseer... Necrontyr."

She gasped. What she had seen had come true so quickly. They were awake once again, bent on destroying and devouring souls of who ever they could. Eldar were first on the menu.

"Farseer?" asked the loyal Eldar inquisitively.

"Yes, set course for that world." She turned towards her tennets. "Awaken our ancestors. Access the infinity circuit, pull our acnestors from their sleep, and pull them into reality. Get as many as you can, and hope that they will forgive us in this fire situation."

She turned to another. "Gather our greatest warrior. He may be needed to awaken the greatest being of all. Lead him to the chamber of the Avatar, and await my orders."

Blasts of Gauss lashed out against the foe; the servants of the Old Ones returned to oppose them in their moment of triumph. It was not enough to annihilate their ancient enemies; but to also wipe their progeny from the slate of the Universe. Weapons roared and fired; Pariahs lashed forth with warscythes; blades hissing in raw discharge; as their psychic null inhibited the Eldar psykers. None would survive.

An Enternal burst apart, torn asunder by the fire of the Reapers; particles moving to reform; fragments forming a greater whole; as they rose to fight once again; unyielding; unthinking metal beings forcing forth in black determination; inhuman hatred for the living used against their ancient enemies; a cold, science that defied the warp spawned magicks of their enemies.

None would leave this world alive; and none would stand before the will; the cold implacable will of the Yngir.

With a pop and a flash, the giant Craftworld Exited the protected Webway. Barely into the system, the great Craftworld slowly approached the besieged world, readying its own forces.

But by the time they got there, there was barely any Eldar left on the world. The Devoured Ones had already slain most of their kin. By the time they would reach the planet, all Eldar would be dead or dying.

Out of the northern pole of the Craftworld, magnificent ships of the Craftworld, crafted from the mysterious Wraithbone, set sail upon the galactic and solar winds. Billowing yellow sails propelled the fast and agile capital ships towards the Tombship. The Eldar variation of missile frigates, as escorts, were unleashed upon the void, speeding their way towards the great enemy ship, Eldar missiles in hand.

"It has begun, their purging of our race, the end is nigh for our brethren on Exodite world, but we may still have a chance on our salvation. My brethren, make these servants of Yngir pay with their immortal bodies and stolen souls!"

The great vessel lashed out with great blasts of lighting; and the crackling arc of a Gauss whip; it plunged through the midst of the Eldar; a great and terrible weapon of death and destruction. It's hull gleamed and shuddered and shifted; as it lashed out; it's entire power focussed on the Eldar enemy...

On the world below; a God walked amongst mortals and it's servants; its touch bringing death; flesh withering as it drained them of their life; while others were torn asunder by the Gauss blasts, screaming as they were dissolved to atoms.

"The flesh of the Old One's servants; so ripe; enshrined, denied death and the hunger of Chaos..." He let his laughter cut across the world as cold wind.

"They shall perish, every last one of them...Their kind shall bleed out of this galaxy; and we shall rule unopposed"

Flame of Asuryan slipped out of the Craftworld's great hangers. The finely reconstructed and refurnished ship glistened in the subtle light of the Exodite world's sun. Aboard the finely crafted Eldar ship was the Grand Farseer, Farseer Kass'sa. Flanking the gleaming grand ship were two Dragonships and four Wraithships.

In the foreground, escort ships and heavy cruisers had already engaged the tombship. Bright arcs of lightning lashed against the holofields of the magnificent vessels. Reinforced wraithbone burned and splintered under the onslaught. Hunter escort ships launched salvo after salvo of Eldar torpedos at the ship, though the escorts not lasting long themselves.

The long billowing solar sails of the great ships billowed ever so slightly, being propelled at a very fast sublight speed towards the tombship. Pulsar lances and torpedo tubes fired unrelentingly at the massive tombship.

Large amounts of Wraith Guard, Wraithlords, and dire avengers were sent to the few remaining pockets of resistance via webway gates. Their mission wasn't to beat back the inumberable amounts of undead metal skeletons, but to hold them back while the remaining few exodites could be saved.