Probably tomorrow.
[OOC] Warhammer 40k: Trapped Craftworld (A High Casual RP) Page 2
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Eisenhorn Inquisitor of some Note
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Unmistakably a disciple of Asurmen from his armour, and rarely one to remove his helmet, this Dire Avenger stands at a spindly around six-foot-three, his body lean and lithe - as expected of an agile Eldar warrior. Were one to catch him without his helmet, as fleeting an occasion it may be, his lack of years results in him looking what the humans call 'fresh-faced', his features distinctly angular and long in Eldar fashion but lacking perhaps the intensity of the lines which define the faces of his elders. Deep brown eyes and a furrowed brow make for a rather stern and fiery look coming from the young Eldar, the short-medium and unkempt mess of thick red hair doing little to help with that.
Name: Yrasan the Younger
Age: 200
Aspect: Dire Avenger
Equipment: Dire Avenger Aspect Armour & Helmet, 'Avenger Pattern' Shuriken Catapult, Ritual Blade, Targeter & Rangefinder, 3x Haywire Grenades
Psyker Powers: Novice Wraithbone Shaper
Personality: With youth comes a brashness rarely found in Eldar warriors of any description, usually a trait drilled out of most at a relatively early stage. However, among those who walk the Path of the Outcast are the young who still seethe with the passions the Eldar seek to banish. Yrasan was, and to an extent still is one of these individuals, no more than halfway through his first century of service outside of the Outcasts and lacking the absolute control which is demanded of all Eldar.
While well on the path to becoming an 'adult', Yrasan's heated moments make known a rather intense young man with authority issues, which as much shows why he took up the Path of the Outcast rather than continuing with any prior Path. This is of course an issue among Eldar society, but as is expected of any Eldar warrior, such outbursts of disagreement are reserved for when the success of a task is not actively on the line.
Beyond that Yrasan acknowledges his lack of experience in comparison to his peers who may have up to and over a millennium of all manners of warfare under their belt. Crticism and advice are things he takes to heart, and he knows well enough how to stay quiet... that is until something prompts his fiery personality to arise once more. It should be noted that his apparent distaste with authorities is not spiteful in its nature, but a mere delusion created from inexperience which makes its self known when Yrasan may, for whatever reason, believe his superior to be leading both himself and others down a needlessly dangerous path. Certainly confrontational by Eldar standards, it is born from a genuine desire to see his kin survive to the next day and beyond, and that frustration is one all Eldar can relate to.
Bio: Bonesinging is an elegant art, demanding a level of patience and control which even weathered Pathfinders would call taxing. The difficult learning curve is oft what puts off many younger Eldar from taking up the Path initially, and as such Bonesingers usually have an inclination towards the task even before taking it up. Yrasan was unfortunately not one of these inclined individuals, but it was the first Path he took up none the less.
While he was not a failure in his years shaping Wraithbone, he simply did not perform to a level which would be considered "desireable". Yrasan lacked something at the core of his personality which resulted in his creations seeming rushed, and almost inefficient in their design. It was patience. Even among other fresh entrants to the Path, Yrasan was far too hasty to finish his creations for the sake of their purpose, which is simply not within the nature of the Bonesinger. While haste is important, one must regard the tune they play in that moment as if it were as important as the ultimate end result. The lack of attention to the moment lead to Yrasan leaving the Path of the Bonesinger and instead taking up the Outcast.
The life of a Ranger was far harsher than his previous experiences, but it required much of the same from the young Eldar; patience, precision and perfect execution. Like shaping the Wraithbone, blunders were unacceptable, but rather than merely producing a shoddy construct, as a Ranger a flawed execution meant to induce suffering - your own and the suffering of your kin. The art of being a Ranger was not taught by another, but forced unto an Eldar through necessity alone. To be impatient is to create poor timing, to create poor timing is to take an inoppritune shot, to take an inoppritune shot is to fail. To fail means for others to suffer your failure.
Yrasan took to these harsh teachings like a hawk to sky, seeming to finally come into his own as he roamed from planet to planet, from group to group, putting the universe and the struggle of his people into perspective. It was not just that the Path's required excellence, it was the Eldar people themself that required excellence, a lesson taught to every Eldar child but one which only truly hit home with Yrasan after experiencing the rigours of the worlds and battles which accompanied them. But alas, he was not titled Yrasan the Younger without good reason, both a sign of respect for his actions despite his youth and an admonishment of his nature.
The Seginus Sector campaign is one unnoted in the books of humanity, a relatively minor scuffle between local Imperial Guard forces against the sudden boom of an organized ork population across the few planets which appeared to be the lead up to a Waaagh! which would undoubtedly grow beyond the capability of the local forces. This fact was not one that went unignored by Craftworld Eexamath Buanneth. The ever simple orks proved a useful tool at times, when lead and baited in the right direction, but the future ahead of this specific Waaagh! was muddied and uncertain, and so Rangers were directed to simply observe until a certain course of action could be decided.
One such Ranger was Yrasan, tasked with observing the rallying figure behind the Waaagh!, the Warboss Razza 'Dat-Means-King-Y'kno'!' Nekbusta. And Yrasan did so, quiet and patient, unseen as he clung to the greenery of Seginus II for hours on end, miles away yet watching the every move of the Warboss. If one were to look into the shortlived Waaagh! of Razza Nekbusta in Imperium Records, it would seem as if one day the orks were simply outwitted by the local Guard, steadily crushed and forced back into the jungles of Seginus II. On Craftworld Eexamath Buanneth, the truth was known. During a day of observation, without prompting from any superior or Seer, Yrasan lanced a shot through the Warboss' head, a perfect shot from a Long Rifle which would leave him unnoticed.
Punishment for the young Eldar was planned, but never occured. Not days after, the truth of the matter became clear to the seers of Eexamath Buanneth, the veil obscuring their vision on the matter lifted. Had Warboss Razza lived, Eldar lives would have ultimately been lost on a large scale, the Waaagh! sweeping them up in its momentum. The sooner he was executed, the better. And so Yrasan was not punished, but granted a title which would remain until it was merely forgotten, called the 'Younger'. He had preformed beneficially, yet such actions were charactaristic of one too young to understand the value of certainty in the situation of the Eldar.
Whether Yrasan made the call based on something beyond mere guesswork and intuition is unknown, something only Yrasan really knows. He finally made his leave from the Path of the Outcast, taking his now-tempered self to walk the path of a Dire Avenger. While his time as a Dire Avenger has been relatively brief, he has none the less taken very well to the teachings of his Aspect Shrine. While meditation remains an issue for Yrasan, he still embodies the tactical flexibility of a Dire Avenger flawlessly. Those who have experienced young Yrasan as a Dire Avenger may describe him as an "eager upstart", a warrior ever excited to answer the call of the leading council and contribute to the cause.
Other: Although Yrasan has an affinity towards the War Path, he still fully intends to return to being a Bonesinger at some point, and it remains his primary 'interest' so to speak.
Theme: N/A
GM
Yennefer All for Slaanesh
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
@Player 2 I like the sheet so far. I assume it isn't done as it is missing parts
Eisenhorn Inquisitor of some Note
Member
Seen
4 hrs ago
Finally got it knocked out.
Appearance:
If one should have the fortune to spot the ghost of a figure that is Esarrendil, his gaunt and lean frame, even by Eldar standards, might be startling. His wraithbone armor is old, likely older even than him, painted the matte black that might mistake him as one of another Craftworld entirely, but all markings stripped, the coloration for his own benefit vice declaring allegiance. Under his helmet is a gaunt, galaxy weary face that has seen sights that would make most of his Eldar kin, as long lived and experienced as they might be, pale in comparison to, with his sunken eyes glaring out at the world around him, ever alert and ever ready for the bite of trouble's maw.
Name: Esarrendil
Age: 2317
Aspect: Pathfinder of the Path of the Outcast
Equipment:
Ranger Long Rifle - Like many Long Rifles, Esarrendil's own was not crafted for him by the fine art of the Bonesingers, but handed down to him by a Ranger returning to the rigidity of the Eldar Paths. While this has made the Ranger Long Rifles unique in comparison to most crafted Eldar wargear, it means each Rifle has long histories that can often span millennia, transcending countless Rangers and Pathfinders, having stories and legends that often dwarf the Eldar wielding such weapons. Esarrendil's is no different, his own rifle dating back before the Horus Heresy of the monkeigh Imperium, and has a tale that he can name every moment of. Such is the inheritance of a Ranger Long Rifle, and when the time comes, he will pass the tale of the rifle onto another.
Shuriken Pistol - A conventional sidearm of most Eldar warriors, and holds no unusual designs or craftsmanship, making a reliable, if unremarkable by Eldar standards, pistol.
Powersword - It is hardly surprising that, when wandering the forgotten corners of reality, one might find things that can catch even a seasoned Pathfinder off guard and get too close for Long Rifle use. Esarrendil carries his predecessor's power sword, the same Ranger that passed his current Long Rifle on to him, a weapon with nearly as long a saga as the rifle it is paired with in ownership now. Technically speaking, it is little different than a standard Eldar power sword, but in the seasoned hands of one such as Esarrendil, it shines as a deadly weapon that, if all goes according to plan, should never see itself unsheathed.
Wraithbone Armor and Cloak - Esarrendil would not be alive today if not for his armor and cloak, old affairs each that seem all but inseparable now. Lightweight and lending itself well to concealment and stealth, his armor and cloak lend themselves well to the task of the Pathfinder.
Psyker Powers:
Personality: Esarrendil is an old figure amongst the Craftworld's current generation of Eldar, and has walked the path of the Exile for most of his days, two things that show in his demeanor. He is quiet and calm, almost serene whenever interacting with fellow Eldar, far too old to concern himself with glory or standing proudly as a member of some Aspect Temple, or mastery over a domain of knowledge. Passing on his experience and learnings is enough for the old Pathfinder, as is his constant hunt through both the twisting paths of the Webway, and the forgotten places to even the Eldar, for the salvation of his people. Whether it be hunting the merest mention of the nascent Ynnead, trailing the sightings and activities of the Harlequin, or delivering timely aid to any Eldar in need, Esarrendil is a figure of focus that intends to give every last moment of his life to the Path of the Outcast, for the good of his people.
His interactions with the lesser species of the universe are varied as the species themselves are. Humans, or mon'keigh as his kin call them, of the Imperium hold little interest outside of momentary alliances, and more than a few rogue traders, Imperial Commanders, even the odd Inquisitor has received the aid of Esarrendil, whether they know it or not, as the Pathfinder walked towards his next goal. Chaos followers have known his wrath, and entire warbands have stuttered to a halt, disassembled from the top down by a solitary sniper that would never be found, and his disdain and hate for the Gods of Chaos is no less, and perhaps greater, than most common Eldar. In all things, though, whether they be of Eldar dealings or otherwise, Esarrendil is a figure of experience and wisdom, ready to temper a young Eldar and, perhaps, save him from walking the Path of the Outcast, and make mistakes that he has already made.
Bio: Esarrendil is a long lived Eldar of his craftworld, loyal despite his isolation, and is a known name to many within the Craftworld's leadership. But this was not always the case, in fact, for the first several centuries of his life, he was not even Outcast. Rather, he was born into, for the lack of better terms, first path. Growing into adulthood, one would have been forgiven for thinking that Esarrendil would never walk the path of an Outcast, Warrior, or any that would require him to put on a mask of war. Early in his adulthood he fell into the Path of the Scholar, fascinated with the Webway and all he might glean from it, especially all that had been lost in the past. Indeed, his focus onto the Path of a Scholar was befitting him, as his insistent focus even made some question if he would be lost to a Path so soon. But such things were not to be, as his closest kin, his father, was lost, slain and his Spirit Stone stolen away.
Esarrendil could not focus on his Path anymore, the memory of his father lost, potentially irrevocably, to the machinations of the enemies of the Eldar, or worse, She Who Thirsts, would not stop haunting him. Despite, for his relative youth, such gifted knowledge into the skeins of the Webway, he could no longer bring himself to walk the path of the Scholar, or indeed, of any other path, leaving him but one option. Barely past three centuries in age, Esarrendil would turn to the Path of the Outcast not out of rebellion or to escape the chaffing of the Eldar Paths, but rather out of mourning and a desire to save his kin. He would meet with a Ranger who was returning from the Path of the Outcast, and inherited his equipment, from the black armor and cloak and Ranger Long Rifle down to having a spirit stone affixed prior to his departure, in some vein hope that he might survive death long enough to be discovered by other Eldar, he departed the Craftworld.
Originally, Esarrendil only intended to walk the Path long enough to track down his lost kin's spirit stone, vanishing into the Webway with this in mind. But he would not so readily find what was lost, and the raw impact that living outside of the rigid, safe, paths of the Eldar had upon him would forever change him. Every planet visited, from walking the Courts of the Exodite Eldar and serving their grandest, to hunting unspeakable abominations of the Warp, freed from their prisons by the hubris of lesser species, Esarrendil would find himself guided deeper and deeper down the Path of the Outcast, yet always found himself answering any call to arms made by the Craftworld, no matter where he was or however inconvenient it might be. His focus on the Webway early in life served him well, for he was able to navigate its treacherous skeins and lost pathways to a degree that, while certainly not as good as any Harlequin might maintain, was leaps and bounds above what most Craftworld Eldar might manage. Indeed, he had lead vital strikes from the Webway for their cause, disrupting from directions the enemy could not see.
But returning to his home to serve was only a fraction of his life, for Esarrendil would indeed find the Spirit Stone of his lost kin, in the hands of a powerful Chaos warlord who wore them like cheap trophies, either ignorant or uncaring of their true purpose. The Eldar Ranger would be born into a Pathfinder during these following years of tracking the Chaos Warlord, finding himself aligned with the mon'keigh Inquisition and an oddly flexible Inquisitor, willing to employ the methods of the Xenos to halt the methods of the Heretic and the Daemon. The allegience ended with the death of the Warlord, bringing relative peace back to the Imperial sector and, far more importantly, the reclamation of the Spirit Stones of his lost kin, both personal and the others stolen so vilely by the crude mon'keigh Chaos follower.
Esarrendil would vanish into the Webway, leaving the Imperials to their business the moment he had reclaimed his objectives, returning to the Craftworld to personally return the lost Spirit Stones. But, unlike what many expected, he felt no urge to finally stay and return to the Paths of the Eldar, turning his back upon their rigid nature again, this time without goal in mind. He would always be a ready figure, an Outcast more loyal than most, always ready to lend Rifle and increasing centuries of experience in the plights of the Craftworld. But he would walk places forgotten by all but the most ancient of Eldar, wandering places in the webway forgotten to all but the Harlequin and few others, often for good reason, sometimes being lost for centuries in their meandering paths. These centuries of experience with the Webway he would share with the Rangers he crossed paths with, never keeping their company for long yet teaching them all he could in the short time together they had.
Esarrendil would do battle with the same Imperium he would also sometimes find himself aligned with, never explaining himself to the mon'keigh, and he would grow to be incredibly knowledgeable in their primitive methodologies, often times growing able to, alongside his increasing experience as a Pathfinder, completely elude and leave the Imperial agents not even scratching their heads, his presence was that non existent. Every time he was recalled to the Craftworld, his name was well known, as one that was lost on the Path of the Outcast yet had not fallen to the dangers of the universe, or his own lack of rigid control that protected his fellow Eldar as much as it did guide them down the proper paths to suit them. Yet, his presence was tolerated on the Craftworld whenever he returned more than most, for one simple reason.
Esarrendil would not woo the young Eldar with romantic tales of adventure and riches, nor did he openly wear such trophies as he strutted about. Rather, he would tell them of the dark places that the Universe held, of the dangers and how the Paths were a necessity for the Craftworld Eldar, and that the Path of the Outcast was a method of teaching rather than an option to so lightly take at chafing against the Paths rigid nature. He would teach any Ranger or Eldar he crossed paths with, of any subject he knew about from his wanderings, and would indeed tell awe inspiring tales alongside his horrific ones, but they would not be romanticized. Rather, they were honest, a rare thing indeed, and while the tales of things thought impossible or so rare that they might as well be were fantastic indeed, the blunt stories of the horrors he personally saw tempered them.
Esarrendil would find himself with near two millennia of experience wandering the universe and, some whisper, beyond. It was unlikely that he ever could tear himself from the Path of the Outcast now, even if he wanted to, and was considered lost to the Path and treated with the same equal parts respect, and revulsion, that Exarchs often faced. Lost to their Paths, they taught those that came after them in the hopes of preventing them from suffering the same fate, and when identifying those that might be lost as well, gently guiding them to their ultimate fates. Esarrendil did so with a demeanor of a parent figure, guiding those younger than him, serving humbly with those equal to him, and humbly advising those above him. It would be such that Esarrendil would answer every call made, not to prove himself, but to help guide the Craftworld in a manner that most could not provide. And should the day come that he must finally fall, he will do so without fail, content that he has done all he could.
Other: Esarrendil has an unusual affinity with the Webway and its shattered, forgotten paths, stemming from his time before turning to the Path of the Outcast as a researcher on the Webway, from the perspective of a Path of the Scholar scientist, coupled with the following years experience as a Ranger, then Pathfinder, of the Path of the Outcast.
ThemeSong: youtube.com/watch?v=S6lJI1Y_aWE
If one should have the fortune to spot the ghost of a figure that is Esarrendil, his gaunt and lean frame, even by Eldar standards, might be startling. His wraithbone armor is old, likely older even than him, painted the matte black that might mistake him as one of another Craftworld entirely, but all markings stripped, the coloration for his own benefit vice declaring allegiance. Under his helmet is a gaunt, galaxy weary face that has seen sights that would make most of his Eldar kin, as long lived and experienced as they might be, pale in comparison to, with his sunken eyes glaring out at the world around him, ever alert and ever ready for the bite of trouble's maw.
Name: Esarrendil
Age: 2317
Aspect: Pathfinder of the Path of the Outcast
Equipment:
Ranger Long Rifle - Like many Long Rifles, Esarrendil's own was not crafted for him by the fine art of the Bonesingers, but handed down to him by a Ranger returning to the rigidity of the Eldar Paths. While this has made the Ranger Long Rifles unique in comparison to most crafted Eldar wargear, it means each Rifle has long histories that can often span millennia, transcending countless Rangers and Pathfinders, having stories and legends that often dwarf the Eldar wielding such weapons. Esarrendil's is no different, his own rifle dating back before the Horus Heresy of the monkeigh Imperium, and has a tale that he can name every moment of. Such is the inheritance of a Ranger Long Rifle, and when the time comes, he will pass the tale of the rifle onto another.
Shuriken Pistol - A conventional sidearm of most Eldar warriors, and holds no unusual designs or craftsmanship, making a reliable, if unremarkable by Eldar standards, pistol.
Powersword - It is hardly surprising that, when wandering the forgotten corners of reality, one might find things that can catch even a seasoned Pathfinder off guard and get too close for Long Rifle use. Esarrendil carries his predecessor's power sword, the same Ranger that passed his current Long Rifle on to him, a weapon with nearly as long a saga as the rifle it is paired with in ownership now. Technically speaking, it is little different than a standard Eldar power sword, but in the seasoned hands of one such as Esarrendil, it shines as a deadly weapon that, if all goes according to plan, should never see itself unsheathed.
Wraithbone Armor and Cloak - Esarrendil would not be alive today if not for his armor and cloak, old affairs each that seem all but inseparable now. Lightweight and lending itself well to concealment and stealth, his armor and cloak lend themselves well to the task of the Pathfinder.
Psyker Powers:
Personality: Esarrendil is an old figure amongst the Craftworld's current generation of Eldar, and has walked the path of the Exile for most of his days, two things that show in his demeanor. He is quiet and calm, almost serene whenever interacting with fellow Eldar, far too old to concern himself with glory or standing proudly as a member of some Aspect Temple, or mastery over a domain of knowledge. Passing on his experience and learnings is enough for the old Pathfinder, as is his constant hunt through both the twisting paths of the Webway, and the forgotten places to even the Eldar, for the salvation of his people. Whether it be hunting the merest mention of the nascent Ynnead, trailing the sightings and activities of the Harlequin, or delivering timely aid to any Eldar in need, Esarrendil is a figure of focus that intends to give every last moment of his life to the Path of the Outcast, for the good of his people.
His interactions with the lesser species of the universe are varied as the species themselves are. Humans, or mon'keigh as his kin call them, of the Imperium hold little interest outside of momentary alliances, and more than a few rogue traders, Imperial Commanders, even the odd Inquisitor has received the aid of Esarrendil, whether they know it or not, as the Pathfinder walked towards his next goal. Chaos followers have known his wrath, and entire warbands have stuttered to a halt, disassembled from the top down by a solitary sniper that would never be found, and his disdain and hate for the Gods of Chaos is no less, and perhaps greater, than most common Eldar. In all things, though, whether they be of Eldar dealings or otherwise, Esarrendil is a figure of experience and wisdom, ready to temper a young Eldar and, perhaps, save him from walking the Path of the Outcast, and make mistakes that he has already made.
Bio: Esarrendil is a long lived Eldar of his craftworld, loyal despite his isolation, and is a known name to many within the Craftworld's leadership. But this was not always the case, in fact, for the first several centuries of his life, he was not even Outcast. Rather, he was born into, for the lack of better terms, first path. Growing into adulthood, one would have been forgiven for thinking that Esarrendil would never walk the path of an Outcast, Warrior, or any that would require him to put on a mask of war. Early in his adulthood he fell into the Path of the Scholar, fascinated with the Webway and all he might glean from it, especially all that had been lost in the past. Indeed, his focus onto the Path of a Scholar was befitting him, as his insistent focus even made some question if he would be lost to a Path so soon. But such things were not to be, as his closest kin, his father, was lost, slain and his Spirit Stone stolen away.
Esarrendil could not focus on his Path anymore, the memory of his father lost, potentially irrevocably, to the machinations of the enemies of the Eldar, or worse, She Who Thirsts, would not stop haunting him. Despite, for his relative youth, such gifted knowledge into the skeins of the Webway, he could no longer bring himself to walk the path of the Scholar, or indeed, of any other path, leaving him but one option. Barely past three centuries in age, Esarrendil would turn to the Path of the Outcast not out of rebellion or to escape the chaffing of the Eldar Paths, but rather out of mourning and a desire to save his kin. He would meet with a Ranger who was returning from the Path of the Outcast, and inherited his equipment, from the black armor and cloak and Ranger Long Rifle down to having a spirit stone affixed prior to his departure, in some vein hope that he might survive death long enough to be discovered by other Eldar, he departed the Craftworld.
Originally, Esarrendil only intended to walk the Path long enough to track down his lost kin's spirit stone, vanishing into the Webway with this in mind. But he would not so readily find what was lost, and the raw impact that living outside of the rigid, safe, paths of the Eldar had upon him would forever change him. Every planet visited, from walking the Courts of the Exodite Eldar and serving their grandest, to hunting unspeakable abominations of the Warp, freed from their prisons by the hubris of lesser species, Esarrendil would find himself guided deeper and deeper down the Path of the Outcast, yet always found himself answering any call to arms made by the Craftworld, no matter where he was or however inconvenient it might be. His focus on the Webway early in life served him well, for he was able to navigate its treacherous skeins and lost pathways to a degree that, while certainly not as good as any Harlequin might maintain, was leaps and bounds above what most Craftworld Eldar might manage. Indeed, he had lead vital strikes from the Webway for their cause, disrupting from directions the enemy could not see.
But returning to his home to serve was only a fraction of his life, for Esarrendil would indeed find the Spirit Stone of his lost kin, in the hands of a powerful Chaos warlord who wore them like cheap trophies, either ignorant or uncaring of their true purpose. The Eldar Ranger would be born into a Pathfinder during these following years of tracking the Chaos Warlord, finding himself aligned with the mon'keigh Inquisition and an oddly flexible Inquisitor, willing to employ the methods of the Xenos to halt the methods of the Heretic and the Daemon. The allegience ended with the death of the Warlord, bringing relative peace back to the Imperial sector and, far more importantly, the reclamation of the Spirit Stones of his lost kin, both personal and the others stolen so vilely by the crude mon'keigh Chaos follower.
Esarrendil would vanish into the Webway, leaving the Imperials to their business the moment he had reclaimed his objectives, returning to the Craftworld to personally return the lost Spirit Stones. But, unlike what many expected, he felt no urge to finally stay and return to the Paths of the Eldar, turning his back upon their rigid nature again, this time without goal in mind. He would always be a ready figure, an Outcast more loyal than most, always ready to lend Rifle and increasing centuries of experience in the plights of the Craftworld. But he would walk places forgotten by all but the most ancient of Eldar, wandering places in the webway forgotten to all but the Harlequin and few others, often for good reason, sometimes being lost for centuries in their meandering paths. These centuries of experience with the Webway he would share with the Rangers he crossed paths with, never keeping their company for long yet teaching them all he could in the short time together they had.
Esarrendil would do battle with the same Imperium he would also sometimes find himself aligned with, never explaining himself to the mon'keigh, and he would grow to be incredibly knowledgeable in their primitive methodologies, often times growing able to, alongside his increasing experience as a Pathfinder, completely elude and leave the Imperial agents not even scratching their heads, his presence was that non existent. Every time he was recalled to the Craftworld, his name was well known, as one that was lost on the Path of the Outcast yet had not fallen to the dangers of the universe, or his own lack of rigid control that protected his fellow Eldar as much as it did guide them down the proper paths to suit them. Yet, his presence was tolerated on the Craftworld whenever he returned more than most, for one simple reason.
Esarrendil would not woo the young Eldar with romantic tales of adventure and riches, nor did he openly wear such trophies as he strutted about. Rather, he would tell them of the dark places that the Universe held, of the dangers and how the Paths were a necessity for the Craftworld Eldar, and that the Path of the Outcast was a method of teaching rather than an option to so lightly take at chafing against the Paths rigid nature. He would teach any Ranger or Eldar he crossed paths with, of any subject he knew about from his wanderings, and would indeed tell awe inspiring tales alongside his horrific ones, but they would not be romanticized. Rather, they were honest, a rare thing indeed, and while the tales of things thought impossible or so rare that they might as well be were fantastic indeed, the blunt stories of the horrors he personally saw tempered them.
Esarrendil would find himself with near two millennia of experience wandering the universe and, some whisper, beyond. It was unlikely that he ever could tear himself from the Path of the Outcast now, even if he wanted to, and was considered lost to the Path and treated with the same equal parts respect, and revulsion, that Exarchs often faced. Lost to their Paths, they taught those that came after them in the hopes of preventing them from suffering the same fate, and when identifying those that might be lost as well, gently guiding them to their ultimate fates. Esarrendil did so with a demeanor of a parent figure, guiding those younger than him, serving humbly with those equal to him, and humbly advising those above him. It would be such that Esarrendil would answer every call made, not to prove himself, but to help guide the Craftworld in a manner that most could not provide. And should the day come that he must finally fall, he will do so without fail, content that he has done all he could.
Other: Esarrendil has an unusual affinity with the Webway and its shattered, forgotten paths, stemming from his time before turning to the Path of the Outcast as a researcher on the Webway, from the perspective of a Path of the Scholar scientist, coupled with the following years experience as a Ranger, then Pathfinder, of the Path of the Outcast.
ThemeSong: youtube.com/watch?v=S6lJI1Y_aWE
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POOHEAD189 The Abmin
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Online
Appearance: 
Name: Kel'hidon Dalduin
Age: 1'890
Aspect: Striking Scorpions
Equipment:
Psyker Powers: Destructor: Psychic blast of lightning-like energy.
Personality: Kel's personality is a curious combination of tranquil intensity and fiery passion. He feels as if he can express himself better during combat than with words during peace times. He does his best to be respectful to his fellow Eldar and to keep his emotions in check. But at his core is an anger at how far his race has fallen, and at how their enemies dare encroach upon his people's last remnants. He often remains quiet when among his kin, speaking mostly when on mission and preferring not to socialize. If he were human, many would say he'd be 'married to the job.' His aspect is his life now, and focusing on anything else would be an insult to what he has dedicated himself to. This passion for justice has led him to be extremely thorough in his training, and often leads to the previously silent Striking Scorpion to suddenly spout out blunt and unrelenting facts about how one should perceive life or a certain situation. He'll chastise himself on such manner of speaking later, for he knows that his fellow Eldar are the only friends he has in this galaxy. He finds solace when he commits acts of violence, leading him to revel in the slaughter of his enemies. Not in a bloodthirsty sense per say. But he finds no greater feeling of satisfaction than when his sword impales an Ork or Chaos spawn. He'll feel a sense of peace when his shuriken gun slices through an Imperial soldier's armor like a hot knife through butter.
His training as a Striking Scorpion had given him much patience and a more calm, serene mind than what he previously had in his youth. He had never been outspoken, always an old soul. But he was prone to upfront actions, which had to be culled in order to succeed in this elite group of warriors. To enact such swift death to his foes was worth learning on how to wait for the exact moment to strike.
Bio: Kel'hidon Dalduin has ever been upon the path of the warrior. Nearly 2 thousand years ago, he was born into a rare family of Eldar, for he was the oldest of three brothers. Some saw it as a sign of an ill omen for them to sire no female Eldar, but they grew up fine for the first few centuries. Initially, Kel'hidon sought the path of the Scholar and historian, learning and becoming enthralled with the tales of Eldar heroism from ages past. The War in Heaven and the Fall of the Eldar Gods were his favorite tales as a youth. As he gained more in maturity, he began to wonder and ask questions, needing answers on why his people were in such craftworlds. He delved further and heard of the Fall of their Empire and the more minute details of the Cataclysm caused by Slaneesh. It was on this path to becoming a scholar he decided that he wouldn't read of such deeds. He would perfom them. Be apart of the legends. His race was dwindling and his people scattered. They needed all of the fierce warriors they could get. Becoming the Scholar thrust his heart into that of a Warrior. During his intial training, he began to feel stirrings within his mind and body, and was tested for Psychic abilities. He found he had a knack for it, and could summon up devastating psychic blasts at will. As the years went by and his training both in combat and psychic powers began to increase, he had a small feeling in his breast that perhaps one day he could join the ranks of the Warlocks. He had always wanted to wield their fabled Witch spears.
He began his path as a Dire Avenger, fighting Imperial troops and Tyranids upon one of the outer territories in the Galaxy, preserving offworld Eldar excavations and later defending his craftworld, fighting alongside his fellow Eldar Guardians. He spent 4 centuries as one, fighting on the frontlines and gaining a particularly noteworthy kill by slaying a Tyrant Guard by cutting a hole through it with his power sword, before blowing its insides out with his pistol. This led to the exposure of the Hive Tyrant which became bombarded by his soon to be comrades of the Dark Reapers. Due to his large and muscled stature (for an Eldar), Kel was well suited to follow the path of the Dark Reaper, hauling the large weaponry with surprising ease. This weapon wrought upon devastating destruction on a grandscale, though he admitted he would be a bit more satisfied if he could enter into melee combat. He got his wish when Tyranids attacked once more, and he had to crush more than a few swarm creatures with the butt of his weapon on one dark day. He and his team managed to take down a team of Chaos Dreadnaughts on a particularly harsh mission when their system was attacked. Hellfire and Demons rained from the sky, but they held their ground, pounding their weapons against their hellish engines of war, decimating them for the glory of the Craftworld. They even wounded a bloodthirster, before it was brought down by a contingent of Wraithguard walkers. It was over 900 years ago that he began this path he has chosen now, and he has stayed ever since. For the Striking Scorpion had called to him in his heart, and there was no denying it. He'd found the most success and satisfaction in this path, taking down Chaos Space Marines in single combat. Outmaneuvering Orks and even their Dark Kin, the Dark Eldar, appearing out of the shadows and slaying them with swift strikes. Kel'Hidon had even killed an Ork Warboss at one point, Gorbag the Everhulk. Ready for duty as always, Kel'Hidon will answer the call to help his Craftworld.
Other: (Things I didn’t list? I think this is obvious)
ThemeSong: Hated You From Hello
Name: Kel'hidon Dalduin
Age: 1'890
Aspect: Striking Scorpions
Equipment:
- Striking Scorpion Armor: The Aspect Armour of the Striking Scorpions is similar in construction to that of other Aspect Shrines, but incorporates heavier, rigid armour plating for increased protection. While the extra weight of their Aspect Armour means Striking Scorpions are not as swift as their Howling Banshee counterparts, the protection it provides is such that even Bolters are virtually useless against them, requiring concentrated fire from multiple weapons in order to bring down a Striking Scorpions warrior. The Spirit Stone is located on his breast where his heart would be. A standard Striking Scorpions warrior helmet is distinctively tall and swept back and incorporates a pair of weapon pods positioned and shaped much like the mandibles of a scorpion. Each pod houses a mandible blaster, or Mandiblaster, a unique and deadly device also known as the Sting of the Scorpion. The Mandiblaster is an extremely short range weapon, useful only at a distance of a foot or so, but highly effective as a first-strike weapon which can be used to disorient or kill an opponent before combat is joined.
- Scorpion Oex Pattern Chainsword: A terrible blade with diamond-toothed edges that mangle and tear flesh and cut through armor with relative ease.
- Shuriken Pistol: Deadly short ranged weapon that fires miniature shurikens that rip enemies to pieces within seconds.
Psyker Powers: Destructor: Psychic blast of lightning-like energy.
Personality: Kel's personality is a curious combination of tranquil intensity and fiery passion. He feels as if he can express himself better during combat than with words during peace times. He does his best to be respectful to his fellow Eldar and to keep his emotions in check. But at his core is an anger at how far his race has fallen, and at how their enemies dare encroach upon his people's last remnants. He often remains quiet when among his kin, speaking mostly when on mission and preferring not to socialize. If he were human, many would say he'd be 'married to the job.' His aspect is his life now, and focusing on anything else would be an insult to what he has dedicated himself to. This passion for justice has led him to be extremely thorough in his training, and often leads to the previously silent Striking Scorpion to suddenly spout out blunt and unrelenting facts about how one should perceive life or a certain situation. He'll chastise himself on such manner of speaking later, for he knows that his fellow Eldar are the only friends he has in this galaxy. He finds solace when he commits acts of violence, leading him to revel in the slaughter of his enemies. Not in a bloodthirsty sense per say. But he finds no greater feeling of satisfaction than when his sword impales an Ork or Chaos spawn. He'll feel a sense of peace when his shuriken gun slices through an Imperial soldier's armor like a hot knife through butter.
His training as a Striking Scorpion had given him much patience and a more calm, serene mind than what he previously had in his youth. He had never been outspoken, always an old soul. But he was prone to upfront actions, which had to be culled in order to succeed in this elite group of warriors. To enact such swift death to his foes was worth learning on how to wait for the exact moment to strike.
Bio: Kel'hidon Dalduin has ever been upon the path of the warrior. Nearly 2 thousand years ago, he was born into a rare family of Eldar, for he was the oldest of three brothers. Some saw it as a sign of an ill omen for them to sire no female Eldar, but they grew up fine for the first few centuries. Initially, Kel'hidon sought the path of the Scholar and historian, learning and becoming enthralled with the tales of Eldar heroism from ages past. The War in Heaven and the Fall of the Eldar Gods were his favorite tales as a youth. As he gained more in maturity, he began to wonder and ask questions, needing answers on why his people were in such craftworlds. He delved further and heard of the Fall of their Empire and the more minute details of the Cataclysm caused by Slaneesh. It was on this path to becoming a scholar he decided that he wouldn't read of such deeds. He would perfom them. Be apart of the legends. His race was dwindling and his people scattered. They needed all of the fierce warriors they could get. Becoming the Scholar thrust his heart into that of a Warrior. During his intial training, he began to feel stirrings within his mind and body, and was tested for Psychic abilities. He found he had a knack for it, and could summon up devastating psychic blasts at will. As the years went by and his training both in combat and psychic powers began to increase, he had a small feeling in his breast that perhaps one day he could join the ranks of the Warlocks. He had always wanted to wield their fabled Witch spears.
He began his path as a Dire Avenger, fighting Imperial troops and Tyranids upon one of the outer territories in the Galaxy, preserving offworld Eldar excavations and later defending his craftworld, fighting alongside his fellow Eldar Guardians. He spent 4 centuries as one, fighting on the frontlines and gaining a particularly noteworthy kill by slaying a Tyrant Guard by cutting a hole through it with his power sword, before blowing its insides out with his pistol. This led to the exposure of the Hive Tyrant which became bombarded by his soon to be comrades of the Dark Reapers. Due to his large and muscled stature (for an Eldar), Kel was well suited to follow the path of the Dark Reaper, hauling the large weaponry with surprising ease. This weapon wrought upon devastating destruction on a grandscale, though he admitted he would be a bit more satisfied if he could enter into melee combat. He got his wish when Tyranids attacked once more, and he had to crush more than a few swarm creatures with the butt of his weapon on one dark day. He and his team managed to take down a team of Chaos Dreadnaughts on a particularly harsh mission when their system was attacked. Hellfire and Demons rained from the sky, but they held their ground, pounding their weapons against their hellish engines of war, decimating them for the glory of the Craftworld. They even wounded a bloodthirster, before it was brought down by a contingent of Wraithguard walkers. It was over 900 years ago that he began this path he has chosen now, and he has stayed ever since. For the Striking Scorpion had called to him in his heart, and there was no denying it. He'd found the most success and satisfaction in this path, taking down Chaos Space Marines in single combat. Outmaneuvering Orks and even their Dark Kin, the Dark Eldar, appearing out of the shadows and slaying them with swift strikes. Kel'Hidon had even killed an Ork Warboss at one point, Gorbag the Everhulk. Ready for duty as always, Kel'Hidon will answer the call to help his Craftworld.
Other: (Things I didn’t list? I think this is obvious)
ThemeSong: Hated You From Hello
GM
Yennefer All for Slaanesh
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
@Player 2@Eisenhorn accepted. The both of you. Character tab please
Ollumhammersong
Member
Seen
3 days ago
Appearance: Olanaer Looks as many of his cousins do. Tall and lithe with a smooth airless gait to his step, one just bordering on sinister and predatory. He does not fancy the longer hairstyles of his kin though. Disliking the slight impedment to his speed and form during flight. And it's noticabilty should his helmet ever become removed. Usually he is seen sporting no hair at all.
Of course most people don't get to actually see him as he is high in the clouds. Letting his aspect armour blend his silouette into the seamless sky. Only diving low enough when it is time to land a blow before darting back into the air again.
Storm talon colours is a deep sky blue with dark grey trimmings. The flight wings usually match the colours of whatever sky they are flying through. But during combat thee wings can be commanded to flash blues, greys and whites. Constant swriling changes, like a thunderstorm itself is following at beck and call of the aspect warrior.
Name: Olanaer
Age:1,100 years old
Aspect: Swooping hawk, The Storm Talon shrine
Equipment:
Swooping hawk aspect armour, painted in shrine colours,
Flight wings
Plasma grenades x3
Spirit stone
Lasblaster (cloudsweeper pattern)
Ceremonial Knife
Personality:
Olanaer appears far calmer than he is internally. After decades of service within the swooping hawks he still tries to make sense of himself. And struggles with the knowledge that when the time comes he will likely not be able to leave the path of the warrior. And it troubles him. Troubles him more than he lets on.
He knows the rest of his bretheren. Fellow aspect warriors would see him as an icon to be respected. He would possess the respect of his warrior peers. And he would serve his people in the best way he was capable of doing it. But the fact that this was the best way he was capable of serving his people is the very part that disturbs him most of all.
His outer self, the part of his personality that shines to the surface in spite of his inner soul searching in quite reminiscient of his youth. He is not the brash young boy he was centuries ago. But he is always willing to laugh when the moment calls. And sometimes when it doesn't. He can appear cheerful and gregarious to his friends. Not one that could be described as the solitary type by any means.
He is also fiercely loyal to his fellow kin. And perceives any threat to their safety as equal as a threat to his own. And responds appropriately. It is said in eldar mythology that the swooping hawks aspect warriors gain their name from the animal of the same that was once very common hunting bird. Less of a pet and more of a companion. For they could never be truly tamed and were always wild at heart.
But these birds became a sybmol for revenge and retribution for the way they used to circle their prey. To taunt and tire them until the time came to dive down like an angel of vengence and end their wretched existance and finally claim retribution for that person's crimes.
And like the hunting birds of old so do the swooping hawks circle the enemies of the eldar like the guilty prey they are. Guilty of perpetrating and carrying out violence against such a proud and noble people. And Olanaer take it upon himself to embody this aspect of khaine with a gusto. Falling upon whoever might dare harm another eldar in a flurry of laser blasts and plasma explosions.
Sometimes circling above their heads again and again and again. Letting himself become a visible symbol of dread to a guilty concience before finally swooping in to deliver a quick clean kill and allow his exhausted quarry to rest.
Bio:
Olanaer is not as ancient as some eldar who can boast nearly living as long as ten thousand years. He had only walked the path of the warrior twice before he joined the swooping hawk shrine. He was a dire Avenger in his youngest days and it was there that he received the bulk of his experience in warfare.And discovered he had something of a penchant for it. The adrenaline, the thrill, the feeling of honour and pride that came with walking the path of the warrior. And most of all the surge of being when one let the song of Khaine fill their bones and flow through their veins.
He had taken many actions with his fellows. Gunned down orcs like the rabid beasts they were. Fought off imperial encroachment and slain daemons and self styled 'champions' of the great enemy in the name of his craftworld and his people. But with the nature of his craftworld and their ideology towards taking risk or aggresive action. Most combat is defensive. Or in the case where they do go on the offense, even that is usually just a pre-emtive strike to wittle down the enemy before a defensive action.
Following this was a period of time to serve his people as an engineer. Attemtping, along with others to work on and improve the already respectable armour of the aspect warriors. Along with other projects all inpsired by his time served in the Dire Avengers. (spoiler alert, Not all that sucessful) This was by far the most agreeable path he had walked apart from those as a warrior.
His second time walking the path of the warrior was far more brief. He served as a fire dragon. And it was during this time that he became the most aware of how the will of khaine was capable of influencing him. And what spurred him to shun the path of the warrior and enter into a period of meditation and reflection that nearly saw him become an outcast. Thinking that maybe if he managed to seperate himself from society that it might help him come to an understanding of himself.
He tried to walk other paths between and after his service in two fo the craftworld's shrines. More 'civilian' paths that were admittedly fufilling in their own ways. But he still found himself jumping to answer the call of war whenever a troop of guardians needed to be assembled and action needed to be taken. At first he just assumed it was because he was craving an air of excitement that could only be offered on the battlefield. No where was the song of Khaine ringing louder and more clearly than during those moments. Like a chorus of noble, enlightened fury from a thousand eldar throats. He did not see rampant and sensless destruction spewing from the end of the fire dragons fusion blasters. He saw carefully a carefully aimed beam of eldar contempt and hatred to wipe out a foe. The terrifying screech of his banshee sisters was more singsong than harrowing. And the merciless scything of the dark reapers was in fact well focused justice of the bloody handed god being dispensed with impunity.
It was a confusing and frankly disturbing exeprience because of that clarity. At first he was concerned that he was mistaking the excitement for battle with a possible corruption of the great enemy. The chaos god the Mon'keigh know as Khorne. A seed of infernal influence that was taking over his mind planted during some past battle against his deamon spawn. His own eagerness to enter into the fray was starting to worry him. And others around him.
He responded with a self imposed exile from the battlefield. Spending the next two decades in meditation and contemplation. Seeking wisdom from the seers of the craftworld in an effort to ensure that this was not just his own enchroacing insanity. And it was the seers and sages of the craftworld that explained to him what they beleived the purpose of these perceptions was.
All Eldar may hear the call of Khaine, it is in their blood as he is the very personification of his peoples violent and cold hearted tendancies. Some hear the call more strongly than others. Some only hear it for a period of time. Taking up the mantle of warrior for a few centuries before shrugging it off again. Only donning the armour of a guardian when it was absolutely necessary. And then there were those who felt the call so strongly they were incapable of tuning it out. It might wax and wane over the centuries but it would always be there, beckoning them back to the fields of war. Those who heeded the call so strongly that they became lost on the path of the warrior, incapable of ever stepping off it again. Exarchs.
Exarchs were noble beings in eldar society, Respected and lauded but also reviled and pitied. Becoming lost on any path was not something many eldar aspired to do. Especially to become lost of the path of the warrior. To live a life devoid of meaning being duty and bloodshed. It was an insult to the refined nature of the eldar people. And Olanaer had never even considered that this might be his future. Where his enjoyment of battle may be leading him. He was too reviled by the idea to even consider it in his mind before it was spoken aloud to him.
To test this one seer proposed that he walk the path of the warrior again. To spend enough time in service to his people, at least two hundred more years. If during that time he found the call of Khaine to wane and die out and his old lust for war was to fade, than he would know that this path was not meant to be his only path. But if at the end of this trial period. He could not bring himself to step away from the path of the warrior. If the song rung as loudly as ever in his ears. Than this was likely to be his lot in life. To forever walk the warrior's path in service to his people as an exarch, And to ever answer the call of Khaela Mensha Khaine.
So he thought hard about which aspect of of the bloody handed god spoke most closely to him. Having already been a member of the craftworlds dire avengers and the fire dragons shrine he deigned not to rejoin them and instead focus on something new that would allow him to explore a new aspect of khaine Finally settling on the perfect agility and grace of the swooping hawks. Finding their philospohy of raining bright yet silent death down upon the foes of the eldar. It was a more refined form of combat that appealed to him greatly than the straightforward brutality of the fire dragons and the reapers. And it was more personal and engaging than the eagle pilots or crimson hunters.
Of course most people don't get to actually see him as he is high in the clouds. Letting his aspect armour blend his silouette into the seamless sky. Only diving low enough when it is time to land a blow before darting back into the air again.
Storm talon colours is a deep sky blue with dark grey trimmings. The flight wings usually match the colours of whatever sky they are flying through. But during combat thee wings can be commanded to flash blues, greys and whites. Constant swriling changes, like a thunderstorm itself is following at beck and call of the aspect warrior.
Name: Olanaer
Age:1,100 years old
Aspect: Swooping hawk, The Storm Talon shrine
Equipment:
Swooping hawk aspect armour, painted in shrine colours,
Flight wings
Plasma grenades x3
Spirit stone
Lasblaster (cloudsweeper pattern)
Ceremonial Knife
Personality:
Olanaer appears far calmer than he is internally. After decades of service within the swooping hawks he still tries to make sense of himself. And struggles with the knowledge that when the time comes he will likely not be able to leave the path of the warrior. And it troubles him. Troubles him more than he lets on.
He knows the rest of his bretheren. Fellow aspect warriors would see him as an icon to be respected. He would possess the respect of his warrior peers. And he would serve his people in the best way he was capable of doing it. But the fact that this was the best way he was capable of serving his people is the very part that disturbs him most of all.
His outer self, the part of his personality that shines to the surface in spite of his inner soul searching in quite reminiscient of his youth. He is not the brash young boy he was centuries ago. But he is always willing to laugh when the moment calls. And sometimes when it doesn't. He can appear cheerful and gregarious to his friends. Not one that could be described as the solitary type by any means.
He is also fiercely loyal to his fellow kin. And perceives any threat to their safety as equal as a threat to his own. And responds appropriately. It is said in eldar mythology that the swooping hawks aspect warriors gain their name from the animal of the same that was once very common hunting bird. Less of a pet and more of a companion. For they could never be truly tamed and were always wild at heart.
But these birds became a sybmol for revenge and retribution for the way they used to circle their prey. To taunt and tire them until the time came to dive down like an angel of vengence and end their wretched existance and finally claim retribution for that person's crimes.
And like the hunting birds of old so do the swooping hawks circle the enemies of the eldar like the guilty prey they are. Guilty of perpetrating and carrying out violence against such a proud and noble people. And Olanaer take it upon himself to embody this aspect of khaine with a gusto. Falling upon whoever might dare harm another eldar in a flurry of laser blasts and plasma explosions.
Sometimes circling above their heads again and again and again. Letting himself become a visible symbol of dread to a guilty concience before finally swooping in to deliver a quick clean kill and allow his exhausted quarry to rest.
Bio:
Olanaer is not as ancient as some eldar who can boast nearly living as long as ten thousand years. He had only walked the path of the warrior twice before he joined the swooping hawk shrine. He was a dire Avenger in his youngest days and it was there that he received the bulk of his experience in warfare.And discovered he had something of a penchant for it. The adrenaline, the thrill, the feeling of honour and pride that came with walking the path of the warrior. And most of all the surge of being when one let the song of Khaine fill their bones and flow through their veins.
He had taken many actions with his fellows. Gunned down orcs like the rabid beasts they were. Fought off imperial encroachment and slain daemons and self styled 'champions' of the great enemy in the name of his craftworld and his people. But with the nature of his craftworld and their ideology towards taking risk or aggresive action. Most combat is defensive. Or in the case where they do go on the offense, even that is usually just a pre-emtive strike to wittle down the enemy before a defensive action.
Following this was a period of time to serve his people as an engineer. Attemtping, along with others to work on and improve the already respectable armour of the aspect warriors. Along with other projects all inpsired by his time served in the Dire Avengers. (spoiler alert, Not all that sucessful) This was by far the most agreeable path he had walked apart from those as a warrior.
His second time walking the path of the warrior was far more brief. He served as a fire dragon. And it was during this time that he became the most aware of how the will of khaine was capable of influencing him. And what spurred him to shun the path of the warrior and enter into a period of meditation and reflection that nearly saw him become an outcast. Thinking that maybe if he managed to seperate himself from society that it might help him come to an understanding of himself.
He tried to walk other paths between and after his service in two fo the craftworld's shrines. More 'civilian' paths that were admittedly fufilling in their own ways. But he still found himself jumping to answer the call of war whenever a troop of guardians needed to be assembled and action needed to be taken. At first he just assumed it was because he was craving an air of excitement that could only be offered on the battlefield. No where was the song of Khaine ringing louder and more clearly than during those moments. Like a chorus of noble, enlightened fury from a thousand eldar throats. He did not see rampant and sensless destruction spewing from the end of the fire dragons fusion blasters. He saw carefully a carefully aimed beam of eldar contempt and hatred to wipe out a foe. The terrifying screech of his banshee sisters was more singsong than harrowing. And the merciless scything of the dark reapers was in fact well focused justice of the bloody handed god being dispensed with impunity.
It was a confusing and frankly disturbing exeprience because of that clarity. At first he was concerned that he was mistaking the excitement for battle with a possible corruption of the great enemy. The chaos god the Mon'keigh know as Khorne. A seed of infernal influence that was taking over his mind planted during some past battle against his deamon spawn. His own eagerness to enter into the fray was starting to worry him. And others around him.
He responded with a self imposed exile from the battlefield. Spending the next two decades in meditation and contemplation. Seeking wisdom from the seers of the craftworld in an effort to ensure that this was not just his own enchroacing insanity. And it was the seers and sages of the craftworld that explained to him what they beleived the purpose of these perceptions was.
All Eldar may hear the call of Khaine, it is in their blood as he is the very personification of his peoples violent and cold hearted tendancies. Some hear the call more strongly than others. Some only hear it for a period of time. Taking up the mantle of warrior for a few centuries before shrugging it off again. Only donning the armour of a guardian when it was absolutely necessary. And then there were those who felt the call so strongly they were incapable of tuning it out. It might wax and wane over the centuries but it would always be there, beckoning them back to the fields of war. Those who heeded the call so strongly that they became lost on the path of the warrior, incapable of ever stepping off it again. Exarchs.
Exarchs were noble beings in eldar society, Respected and lauded but also reviled and pitied. Becoming lost on any path was not something many eldar aspired to do. Especially to become lost of the path of the warrior. To live a life devoid of meaning being duty and bloodshed. It was an insult to the refined nature of the eldar people. And Olanaer had never even considered that this might be his future. Where his enjoyment of battle may be leading him. He was too reviled by the idea to even consider it in his mind before it was spoken aloud to him.
To test this one seer proposed that he walk the path of the warrior again. To spend enough time in service to his people, at least two hundred more years. If during that time he found the call of Khaine to wane and die out and his old lust for war was to fade, than he would know that this path was not meant to be his only path. But if at the end of this trial period. He could not bring himself to step away from the path of the warrior. If the song rung as loudly as ever in his ears. Than this was likely to be his lot in life. To forever walk the warrior's path in service to his people as an exarch, And to ever answer the call of Khaela Mensha Khaine.
So he thought hard about which aspect of of the bloody handed god spoke most closely to him. Having already been a member of the craftworlds dire avengers and the fire dragons shrine he deigned not to rejoin them and instead focus on something new that would allow him to explore a new aspect of khaine Finally settling on the perfect agility and grace of the swooping hawks. Finding their philospohy of raining bright yet silent death down upon the foes of the eldar. It was a more refined form of combat that appealed to him greatly than the straightforward brutality of the fire dragons and the reapers. And it was more personal and engaging than the eagle pilots or crimson hunters.
1x Like
Ollumhammersong
Member
Seen
3 days ago
woot
POOHEAD189 The Abmin
Admin
Online
Ok all I need now is a bio
Ollumhammersong
Member
Seen
3 days ago
Ok all I need now is a bio
I believe in you Poo!
1x Thank
POOHEAD189 The Abmin
Admin
Online
Done!
Appearance:
Name: Kel'hidon Dalduin
Age: 1'890
Aspect: Striking Scorpions
Equipment:
Psyker Powers: Destructor: Psychic blast of lightning-like energy.
Personality: Kel's personality is a curious combination of tranquil intensity and fiery passion. He feels as if he can express himself better during combat than with words during peace times. He does his best to be respectful to his fellow Eldar and to keep his emotions in check. But at his core is an anger at how far his race has fallen, and at how their enemies dare encroach upon his people's last remnants. He often remains quiet when among his kin, speaking mostly when on mission and preferring not to socialize. If he were human, many would say he'd be 'married to the job.' His aspect is his life now, and focusing on anything else would be an insult to what he has dedicated himself to. This passion for justice has led him to be extremely thorough in his training, and often leads to the previously silent Striking Scorpion to suddenly spout out blunt and unrelenting facts about how one should perceive life or a certain situation. He'll chastise himself on such manner of speaking later, for he knows that his fellow Eldar are the only friends he has in this galaxy. He finds solace when he commits acts of violence, leading him to revel in the slaughter of his enemies. Not in a bloodthirsty sense per say. But he finds no greater feeling of satisfaction than when his sword impales an Ork or Chaos spawn. He'll feel a sense of peace when his shuriken gun slices through an Imperial soldier's armor like a hot knife through butter.
His training as a Striking Scorpion had given him much patience and a more calm, serene mind than what he previously had in his youth. He had never been outspoken, always an old soul. But he was prone to upfront actions, which had to be culled in order to succeed in this elite group of warriors. To enact such swift death to his foes was worth learning on how to wait for the exact moment to strike.
Bio: Kel'hidon Dalduin has ever been upon the path of the warrior. Nearly 2 thousand years ago, he was born into a rare family of Eldar, for he was the oldest of three brothers. Some saw it as a sign of an ill omen for them to sire no female Eldar, but they grew up fine for the first few centuries. Initially, Kel'hidon sought the path of the Scholar and historian, learning and becoming enthralled with the tales of Eldar heroism from ages past. The War in Heaven and the Fall of the Eldar Gods were his favorite tales as a youth. As he gained more in maturity, he began to wonder and ask questions, needing answers on why his people were in such craftworlds. He delved further and heard of the Fall of their Empire and the more minute details of the Cataclysm caused by Slaneesh. It was on this path to becoming a scholar he decided that he wouldn't read of such deeds. He would perfom them. Be apart of the legends. His race was dwindling and his people scattered. They needed all of the fierce warriors they could get. Becoming the Scholar thrust his heart into that of a Warrior. During his intial training, he began to feel stirrings within his mind and body, and was tested for Psychic abilities. He found he had a knack for it, and could summon up devastating psychic blasts at will. As the years went by and his training both in combat and psychic powers began to increase, he had a small feeling in his breast that perhaps one day he could join the ranks of the Warlocks. He had always wanted to wield their fabled Witch spears.
He began his path as a Dire Avenger, fighting Imperial troops and Tyranids upon one of the outer territories in the Galaxy, preserving offworld Eldar excavations and later defending his craftworld, fighting alongside his fellow Eldar Guardians. He spent 4 centuries as one, fighting on the frontlines and gaining a particularly noteworthy kill by slaying a Tyrant Guard by cutting a hole through it with his power sword, before blowing its insides out with his pistol. This led to the exposure of the Hive Tyrant which became bombarded by his soon to be comrades of the Dark Reapers. Due to his large and muscled stature (for an Eldar), Kel was well suited to follow the path of the Dark Reaper, hauling the large weaponry with surprising ease. This weapon wrought upon devastating destruction on a grandscale, though he admitted he would be a bit more satisfied if he could enter into melee combat. He got his wish when Tyranids attacked once more, and he had to crush more than a few swarm creatures with the butt of his weapon on one dark day. He and his team managed to take down a team of Chaos Dreadnaughts on a particularly harsh mission when their system was attacked. Hellfire and Demons rained from the sky, but they held their ground, pounding their weapons against their hellish engines of war, decimating them for the glory of the Craftworld. They even wounded a bloodthirster, before it was brought down by a contingent of Wraithguard walkers. It was over 900 years ago that he began this path he has chosen now, and he has stayed ever since. For the Striking Scorpion had called to him in his heart, and there was no denying it. He'd found the most success and satisfaction in this path, taking down Chaos Space Marines in single combat. Outmaneuvering Orks and even their Dark Kin, the Dark Eldar, appearing out of the shadows and slaying them with swift strikes. Kel'Hidon had even killed an Ork Warboss at one point, Gorbag the Everhulk. Ready for duty as always, Kel'Hidon will answer the call to help his Craftworld.
Other: (Things I didn’t list? I think this is obvious)
ThemeSong: Hated You From Hello
Name: Kel'hidon Dalduin
Age: 1'890
Aspect: Striking Scorpions
Equipment:
- Striking Scorpion Armor: The Aspect Armour of the Striking Scorpions is similar in construction to that of other Aspect Shrines, but incorporates heavier, rigid armour plating for increased protection. While the extra weight of their Aspect Armour means Striking Scorpions are not as swift as their Howling Banshee counterparts, the protection it provides is such that even Bolters are virtually useless against them, requiring concentrated fire from multiple weapons in order to bring down a Striking Scorpions warrior. The Spirit Stone is located on his breast where his heart would be. A standard Striking Scorpions warrior helmet is distinctively tall and swept back and incorporates a pair of weapon pods positioned and shaped much like the mandibles of a scorpion. Each pod houses a mandible blaster, or Mandiblaster, a unique and deadly device also known as the Sting of the Scorpion. The Mandiblaster is an extremely short range weapon, useful only at a distance of a foot or so, but highly effective as a first-strike weapon which can be used to disorient or kill an opponent before combat is joined.
- Scorpion Oex Pattern Chainsword: A terrible blade with diamond-toothed edges that mangle and tear flesh and cut through armor with relative ease.
- Shuriken Pistol: Deadly short ranged weapon that fires miniature shurikens that rip enemies to pieces within seconds.
Psyker Powers: Destructor: Psychic blast of lightning-like energy.
Personality: Kel's personality is a curious combination of tranquil intensity and fiery passion. He feels as if he can express himself better during combat than with words during peace times. He does his best to be respectful to his fellow Eldar and to keep his emotions in check. But at his core is an anger at how far his race has fallen, and at how their enemies dare encroach upon his people's last remnants. He often remains quiet when among his kin, speaking mostly when on mission and preferring not to socialize. If he were human, many would say he'd be 'married to the job.' His aspect is his life now, and focusing on anything else would be an insult to what he has dedicated himself to. This passion for justice has led him to be extremely thorough in his training, and often leads to the previously silent Striking Scorpion to suddenly spout out blunt and unrelenting facts about how one should perceive life or a certain situation. He'll chastise himself on such manner of speaking later, for he knows that his fellow Eldar are the only friends he has in this galaxy. He finds solace when he commits acts of violence, leading him to revel in the slaughter of his enemies. Not in a bloodthirsty sense per say. But he finds no greater feeling of satisfaction than when his sword impales an Ork or Chaos spawn. He'll feel a sense of peace when his shuriken gun slices through an Imperial soldier's armor like a hot knife through butter.
His training as a Striking Scorpion had given him much patience and a more calm, serene mind than what he previously had in his youth. He had never been outspoken, always an old soul. But he was prone to upfront actions, which had to be culled in order to succeed in this elite group of warriors. To enact such swift death to his foes was worth learning on how to wait for the exact moment to strike.
Bio: Kel'hidon Dalduin has ever been upon the path of the warrior. Nearly 2 thousand years ago, he was born into a rare family of Eldar, for he was the oldest of three brothers. Some saw it as a sign of an ill omen for them to sire no female Eldar, but they grew up fine for the first few centuries. Initially, Kel'hidon sought the path of the Scholar and historian, learning and becoming enthralled with the tales of Eldar heroism from ages past. The War in Heaven and the Fall of the Eldar Gods were his favorite tales as a youth. As he gained more in maturity, he began to wonder and ask questions, needing answers on why his people were in such craftworlds. He delved further and heard of the Fall of their Empire and the more minute details of the Cataclysm caused by Slaneesh. It was on this path to becoming a scholar he decided that he wouldn't read of such deeds. He would perfom them. Be apart of the legends. His race was dwindling and his people scattered. They needed all of the fierce warriors they could get. Becoming the Scholar thrust his heart into that of a Warrior. During his intial training, he began to feel stirrings within his mind and body, and was tested for Psychic abilities. He found he had a knack for it, and could summon up devastating psychic blasts at will. As the years went by and his training both in combat and psychic powers began to increase, he had a small feeling in his breast that perhaps one day he could join the ranks of the Warlocks. He had always wanted to wield their fabled Witch spears.
He began his path as a Dire Avenger, fighting Imperial troops and Tyranids upon one of the outer territories in the Galaxy, preserving offworld Eldar excavations and later defending his craftworld, fighting alongside his fellow Eldar Guardians. He spent 4 centuries as one, fighting on the frontlines and gaining a particularly noteworthy kill by slaying a Tyrant Guard by cutting a hole through it with his power sword, before blowing its insides out with his pistol. This led to the exposure of the Hive Tyrant which became bombarded by his soon to be comrades of the Dark Reapers. Due to his large and muscled stature (for an Eldar), Kel was well suited to follow the path of the Dark Reaper, hauling the large weaponry with surprising ease. This weapon wrought upon devastating destruction on a grandscale, though he admitted he would be a bit more satisfied if he could enter into melee combat. He got his wish when Tyranids attacked once more, and he had to crush more than a few swarm creatures with the butt of his weapon on one dark day. He and his team managed to take down a team of Chaos Dreadnaughts on a particularly harsh mission when their system was attacked. Hellfire and Demons rained from the sky, but they held their ground, pounding their weapons against their hellish engines of war, decimating them for the glory of the Craftworld. They even wounded a bloodthirster, before it was brought down by a contingent of Wraithguard walkers. It was over 900 years ago that he began this path he has chosen now, and he has stayed ever since. For the Striking Scorpion had called to him in his heart, and there was no denying it. He'd found the most success and satisfaction in this path, taking down Chaos Space Marines in single combat. Outmaneuvering Orks and even their Dark Kin, the Dark Eldar, appearing out of the shadows and slaying them with swift strikes. Kel'Hidon had even killed an Ork Warboss at one point, Gorbag the Everhulk. Ready for duty as always, Kel'Hidon will answer the call to help his Craftworld.
Other: (Things I didn’t list? I think this is obvious)
ThemeSong: Hated You From Hello
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