The skeins of fate were a mad web on this world, twisting and writhing. Their destiny seemed so clear on Iyanden, but now… Kelmon walked from the shadow of the forest, the tall grass brushing against his outstreched fingertips. The Mon-keigh cut deep into the ancient forest to build their offensive city, but the great trees resisted. They grew back with such speed and fortitude that the humans could never manage to keep them at bay. At its periphery the city and the forest became a strange chimera of natural and synthetic. He welcomed the thought that one day the world might recover, but wept for the damage already done.
Many eldar died on this world, and many that were already dead, were lost forever. A few waystones would be recovered, but many more were destroyed. The spirits of those wraith-constructs were released into the ether, to be consumed by She Who Thirsts.
Their temporary allies, Dark Kin were already gone. They disappeared as quickly as they came, raiders loaded with human captives, bound for their slave pits of Commorragh. The monster Haemonculus Urien Rakarth sent a note before he left, carried by a warrior wearing a haughty expression on his cruel and unnaturally florid face. He unrolled the message, realizing at once that it was written on the recently tanned flesh of a human captives. A tattoo of the eagle that represented the corpse-god of the imperium was at the top of the note, and below it a hand written message in flowery script. The fluid letters were deep brown, and Kelmon had no doubt were inked in the blood of the same human who donated his flesh to Rakarth’s message.
I cannot thank you enough for your invitation. The humans provide such sport. I had no idea our craftworld kin could be such fun. Please contact me if you need another world destroyed.-U
“We should not have allowed their participation,” he hissed at the Eldar approaching from the ruined city.
Prince Atarax shook his head, and a grim smile cut across his face. “It was necessary, farseer. You see much, but you cannot see that?”
The prince and his corsair fleet, the Doom Wraiths, came unbidden to assist in the capture of this world. They were alerted by a troupe of harlequins -- all of whom had now disappeared -- that their assistance was needed. Prince Atarax, professing his devotion to the Eldar race complied.
Kelmon studied Atarax. The corsair prince and his followers walked a path that could lead to inevitable destruction. Without the structure of the craftworlds, they would lose the battle they fought with their own natures. Already, they appeared more like the Dark Kin than their craftworld brethren. They teetered at a precipice, and when they fell, there would be no redemption.
“Was our sacrifice worth the prize?” the prince demanded, interrupting Kelmon’s introspection.
“The artifact? No, it is meaningless. A bauble the Mon-keigh found during the long night. They believe it is many things, each faction expecting it to reveal the secrets they seek, but it will reveal nothing. It will corrupt the weak, and even the strong will be goaded. It may provide temporary power, but leads only to destruction. It is better left to the dead.”
“It was a necessary effort. The Mon-keigh are a tool of greater powers. The path from this world would have led to calamity for all. Now they are on another path, one that could preserve the Eldar... but the future is clouded. I fear there is something we may yet need to do.”
End of Game Turn 5:
End of Game Turn 6 (Final Turn):
We ended the game after turn 6, slightly ahead of schedule. It was a long day of gaming, drinking beer and standing, but due to proper planning and organization we got through a 24,000 game in record time. In short, it was f***ing awesome.
Final Score: Xenos 21, Imperial 18
+++Janestus picked his way through the ruins, returning to the gathered cluster of expectant Lords of Vegeance space marines.
He patted the satchel hanging at his side. Heat emanated from the artifact. He could feel it even through his power armor. “Our brothers are misguided, this will help us return them to the true path.”
He climbed atop a plinth that once held a statue, now shattered and unrecognizable, half buried in ash and ruin. The artifact was in his hand, though he could not recall freeing it. He held it aloft. Wonder filled the faces of his men. This was true power. “Vengeance!” he cried out.
I hope you enjoyed reading as much as we did playing. Warhammer 40K is just such a fantastic game, even more-so when you have the right group of people. Thanks for viewing!