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Post by LaxKnight on Oct 17, 2022 0:04:03 GMT -5
The webway gate that most Eldar would likely come out of is relatively small, too small for a Wave Serpent or Raider to fit through. When they emerge from the webway gate they'd find that it was underground. The soft light of the stones that ring the round chamber made it obvious that they weren't the first ones here recently. The light would reveal the webway gate to be on a island large enough for several squads of people to comfortably gather. The water surrounding it is dark and deep; deep enough for a Wraithlord to barely poke its head out due to years of erosion when an underground river broke into the chamber. There would be a stretch of land that would lead to a tunnel which in turn would lead to a large stone door. It is able to be actuated open with simple psychic focus (or simply blasted through with enough firepower and time). Opening it would reveal a cave that will open up into a fruit forest. Those venturing even further out would eventually run into the closest city of Plenty.
This particular gate is known simply called The First for it is the first one discovered leading to Haven in recent memory and often the first gate any Aeldari coming here would go through, though it's unknown if it's the first gate made. The large underground space makes it an excellent staging ground, resting spot, and gathering space for Aeldari who travel on the Maiden World.
OOC: This thread is open for any Eldar to use. Misuse and abuse such as restricting access or destruction will result in consequences.
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Post by theredauthar on Oct 24, 2022 20:42:56 GMT -5
Maebh pauses at the edge of the island. She crouches and runs her gauntleted hand through the dark water. Cupping her hands, she scoops some out only to let it drain back out through her fingers. Free flowing water is not something Maebh has not seen before, and yet this feels like the first time she’s actually seen it. Like even though she has witnessed water before this is the first time she’s actually seen it or is seeing it again after a long absence.
Maebh sits next to the water and just watches. Wondering if what she sees is something she could recreate.
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Post by LaxKnight on Oct 31, 2022 19:32:46 GMT -5
The sound of sliding stone would rumble from an unseen entrance down the tunnel. Soon after footsteps could be heard before a figure clad in black would emerge. Her movements were slow to dissuade an aggressive response but that only emphasized her grace. Her Ghosthelm would instantly make her recognizable as a Farseer while the other colors she wore were often used by groups of Ynnari; confirmed by a symbol hanging from her waist sash. She'd stop on the other side of the river, plant her Singing Spear, and crouch down near the water.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Wyvara's voice had a melodic tone that not even the distortion of her helmet can hide, "It's not often we can simply witness nature."
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Post by theredauthar on Nov 1, 2022 20:23:27 GMT -5
To the outside observer, one of non-Aeldari heritage, there would have been hardly a twitch of a reaction from Maebh. It would almost seem as just the slightest of motion to acknowledge the other Ynnari.
However, those of the Aeldari race would notice Maebh’s reaction. And while Maebh had been aware enough of Wyvara’s approach, she was not prepared for the Farseer to talk with her so casually. Any Aeldari would have noticed, Wyvera had taken Maebh completely by surprise.
Maebh pauses, as if to reclaim her composure, and hide her embarrassment. After all, it is not proper for an Asuryan to lose control of their emotions like that, specifically in front of a Farseer. Finally she replies, “It is beautiful. I don’t believe I’ve seen a place like this before.”
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Post by hobbsy on Nov 2, 2022 3:35:13 GMT -5
In damp environments such as where this gate is located, it is common for moss to grow. It lines the walls in blotches and patches, as if they were a form of natural decorations set up by a forgotten deity. Yet to a trained eye, there is a patch that doesn't quite fit in with the rest. Towards the exit to the outside world, at the entrance of the tunnel, a long patch seems discoloured and more unified compared to the rest.
Ponti had watched the newcomer with a mixture of fear and curiosity. It seemed like it had been so long since she had been in contact with one of her own. The simple idea of even making herself know was terrifying. But fate had chosen to put her in an even more complicated situation as the entrance was opened. At the sound of the moving stone, she had quickly turned into the wall and had stayed as still as possible.
Who could it be? She couldn't see now that she had turned to face the wall.
Had they seen her enter before? It had only been a day ago that she had slipped inside.
Would they notice her? Her clothes blended in, but it wasn't camouflage or anything of the sort.
Ponti waited for the sound of footsteps to pass and the sound of talking to start before daring to move. She ever so slowly moved her head to peer back at the gate. The figure that had passed... Was a Farseer. Terror gripped Ponti and held her in place. It would be a miracle if she hadn't been noticed. She could now only hope it was so.
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Post by Warsmith Wolf on Nov 3, 2022 21:09:09 GMT -5
In damp environments such as where this gate is located, it is common for moss to grow. It lines the walls in blotches and patches, as if they were a form of natural decorations set up by a forgotten deity. Yet to a trained eye, there is a patch that doesn't quite fit in with the rest. Towards the exit to the outside world, at the entrance of the tunnel, a long patch seems discoloured and more unified compared to the rest. Would they notice her? Her clothes blended in, but it wasn't camouflage or anything of the sort. It would be a miracle if she hadn't been noticed. She could now only hope it was so. The Webway. A fickle, tricksome realm born of a fickle, tricksome people, its steady decay mirroring their own. Few in this age possess the tools or knowledge to traverse its depths with any degree of safety, and none without risk. Fortunately for the disparate band of fey folk calling this nave their home, one such path-finder is in their number. Ponti is not the only one who wanders. This place is not without keen eyes to watch it. A soft breeze flows at the wanderer’s back, innocuous – until that breeze taps her on the shoulder, so very lightly. A face masked in a glamour’d ranger-cloak looms from behind her, one finger held to its lips in a silent hush. Hands appear, dancing in wordless sign-speak. The exact meaning is not best rendered in the Imperials’ vaunted Gothics. Literally it is translated “To what end does the son of Auleth-El stand before me, at the dawning of his doom?”, the words uttered by the Guardian of the Glamour’d Gate to the ill-fated hero Aurath-Ra, an excerpt from an ancient mythic tale. It is a tale whose fragments are not best remembered by the wider aeldari species, but the adherents of the Outcast Path are much fond of it for their inscrutable ranger-speak, as insufferably prone to allegory as any of their kind. As a tragic tale that ends in a truly hideous amount of bloodshed on all sides, Biel-Tan in particular are, naturally, very taken by it. Put simply, it is an inquest – stranger, why are you here?* *(The traditional response, whether spoken or signed, translates roughly as “I seek the Destined Death beyond these walls of glamour,”, Aurath-Ra’s reply in the poetic verse. Those less afflicted by Ranger fancies often choose more curt phrases.)
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Post by LaxKnight on Nov 4, 2022 1:45:40 GMT -5
To the outside observer, one of non-Aeldari heritage, there would have been hardly a twitch of a reaction from Maebh. It would almost seem as just the slightest of motion to acknowledge the other Ynnari. However, those of the Aeldari race would notice Maebh’s reaction. And while Maebh had been aware enough of Wyvara’s approach, she was not prepared for the Farseer to talk with her so casually. Any Aeldari would have noticed, Wyvera had taken Maebh completely by surprise. Maebh pauses, as if to reclaim her composure, and hide her embarrassment. After all, it is not proper for an Asuryan to lose control of their emotions like that, specifically in front of a Farseer. Finally she replies, “It is beautiful. I don’t believe I’ve seen a place like this before.” The other's surprise was not lost on the Farseer, but she chose to react with a slight nod at her comment. "Like many treasures, most find it not worth the effort to spare perhaps the briefest glance. Buried it is, closed to most under boulders of pressing priorities, the choking weed of the mon'keigh, then layered and eroded with millennia of time. Buried it is, so deep that much might lost like the name it once had when the Aeldari ruled the stars," she said, "But, the hidden gems we stumble upon such as here may hint to something greater." Wyvara then rose to her feet in a graceful motion, using it to help her reach a bit with her psychic senses to help her identify the soul before her. She gave a gentle wave out to the chamber they were in. "I welcome you to The First; named so because it was the first rediscovered gate to this world, the first place one tends to visit, and, perhaps, the first step towards finding other treasures," she said, "What treasure do you seek here, Artist?" ---- Elsewhere, in the cave hiding the stone entrance to The First webway gate, were a few beings who's hearts might perhaps be blacker than the darkness that surrounds them. The Kabalites were told to wait here until the Farseer summoned them back because they might 'scare visitors'. Fair enough, but who knows how long that will take and it was so incredibly boring. This tedium, compounded with the dark environment and the sense of paranoia those from Dark City haven't quite shaken off, produced a powder keg ready to unleash a lot of splinters first and ask questions later. |
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Post by hobbsy on Nov 4, 2022 3:52:52 GMT -5
A soft breeze flows at the wanderer’s back, innocuous – until that breeze taps her on the shoulder, so very lightly. Although not visibly moving from the slight touch, it would be clear to the ranger that the other wanderer had momentarily stiffened up and froze. Quite similar to how the jackalopes, which seem to be in abundance on this world, tended to stay perfectly still when they know that they are in close proximity to a hunter. After a moment had passed, Ponti turned her head ever so slowly to face the stranger behind her. Although her lower face was covered in a simple cloth, her wide eyes hid nothing of her state. She was terrified. A face masked in a glamour’d ranger-cloak looms from behind her, one finger held to its lips in a silent hush. Hands appear, dancing in wordless sign-speak. The exact meaning is not best rendered in the Imperials’ vaunted Gothics. Literally it is translated “To what end does the son of Auleth-El stand before me, at the dawning of his doom?”, the words uttered by the Guardian of the Glamour’d Gate to the ill-fated hero Aurath-Ra, an excerpt from an ancient mythic tale. It is a tale whose fragments are not best remembered by the wider aeldari species, but the adherents of the Outcast Path are much fond of it for their inscrutable ranger-speak, as insufferably prone to allegory as any of their kind. As a tragic tale that ends in a truly hideous amount of bloodshed on all sides, Biel-Tan in particular are, naturally, very taken by it. Put simply, it is an inquest – stranger, why are you here?* Although still clearly horrified to be so close to someone, Ponti seemed to relax as the ranger commicated his message. At first it had taken a moment, but then she recognized both the sign speak and the poetic tale. She had learnt both during her time with her long departed Corsair companions. Only shifting enough to expose her hand from her drab robe, Ponti returned her reply in some what awkward sign speak. “I seek the Desired Death beyond these walls of granger.” It would be clear to the ranger that time has most certainly passed since this wanderer has last used sign speak. But the message is clear enough as she gives a quick addition to give more of an answer to his question. "Hiding. I do not want to disturb or harm." |
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Post by theredauthar on Nov 5, 2022 18:19:09 GMT -5
The other's surprise was not lost on the Farseer, but she chose to react with a slight nod at her comment. "Like many treasures, most find it not worth the effort to spare perhaps the briefest glance. Buried it is, closed to most under boulders of pressing priorities, the choking weed of the mon'keigh, then layered and eroded with millennia of time. Buried it is, so deep that much might lost like the name it once had when the Aeldari ruled the stars," she said, "But, the hidden gems we stumble upon such as here may hint to something greater." Wyvara then rose to her feet in a graceful motion, using it to help her reach a bit with her psychic senses to help her identify the soul before her. She gave a gentle wave out to the chamber they were in. "I welcome you to The First; named so because it was the first rediscovered gate to this world, the first place one tends to visit, and, perhaps, the first step towards finding other treasures," she said, "What treasure do you seek here, Artist?" ---- Elsewhere, in the cave hiding the stone entrance to The First webway gate, were a few beings who's hearts might perhaps be blacker than the darkness that surrounds them. The Kabalites were told to wait here until the Farseer summoned them back because they might 'scare visitors'. Fair enough, but who knows how long that will take and it was so incredibly boring. This tedium, compounded with the dark environment and the sense of paranoia those from Dark City haven't quite shaken off, produced a powder keg ready to unleash a lot of splinters first and ask questions later. Maebh rolls the question around in her mind. What am I searching for? Is there even an answer if I do not know myself?
She looks at Farseer, as if Wyvera can answer the question for her. Hesitantly she removes her helmet and says, “I hope to know as soon as I find it. In a way, you could say I’m trying to find myself.” |
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Post by Warsmith Wolf on Nov 6, 2022 20:28:41 GMT -5
Only shifting enough to expose her hand from her drab robe, Ponti returned her reply in some what awkward sign speak. It would be clear to the ranger that time has most certainly passed since this wanderer has last used sign speak. "Hiding. I do not want to disturb or harm." Deftly does the cloak of subtlety descend – rather literally, in fact, as the Ranger draws their camo cloak over the pair, wrapping them in the embrace of stealth. It is easier to note the path-finder’s features now – indeed, it is rather hard not to, given the proximity! – revealing the colours of Biel-Tan, albeit muted and drab for the sake of visibility (or lack thereof). The ranger sets his gaze – or indeed hers, on closer inspection – on their unexpected companion, attempting to deduce who or what exactly they have drawn into their net. “You are not known to me, little wanderer.” Words spoken softly, as if uttered by a light breeze on the air, rather than the ranger herself – entirely unaware her compatriot cannot respond in kind. “’tis an unusual locale to choose as a place of lone seclusion, so valued by our people. Wherefore did you come to this place? You seem to me of no kindred I know.” Seemingly lacking the base hatefulness of the eladrith ynneas or anhrathe, far even from a Guardian of the craftworlds in stature, yet not so entirely backwards and Spartan of accoutrement as to likely be an Exodite. One of Ynnead’s mortuary cultists, perhaps? What exactly is this newcomer? |
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Post by hobbsy on Nov 7, 2022 1:10:24 GMT -5
Deftly does the cloak of subtlety descend – rather literally, in fact, as the Ranger draws their camo cloak over the pair, wrapping them in the embrace of stealth. It is easier to note the path-finder’s features now – indeed, it is rather hard not to, given the proximity! – revealing the colours of Biel-Tan, albeit muted and drab for the sake of visibility (or lack thereof). The ranger sets his gaze – or indeed hers, on closer inspection – on their unexpected companion, attempting to deduce who or what exactly they have drawn into their net. “You are not known to me, little wanderer.” Words spoken softly, as if uttered by a light breeze on the air, rather than the ranger herself – entirely unaware her compatriot cannot respond in kind. “’tis an unusual locale to choose as a place of lone seclusion, so valued by our people. Wherefore did you come to this place? You seem to me of no kindred I know.” At the descent of the cloak, Ponti twists around to face the stranger front on. Her eyes widen as she finds herself face to face and closer than she would have ever dared to be to anyone or anything! What peace there had been gained from the familiarities of the sign speak and poetry was absolutely lost now. Seemingly lacking the base hatefulness of the eladrith ynneas or anhrathe, far even from a Guardian of the craftworlds in stature, yet not so entirely backwards and Spartan of accoutrement as to likely be an Exodite. One of Ynnead’s mortuary cultists, perhaps? What exactly is this newcomer? What indeed. For it would not take the ranger long to realize that there is much, much more to this wanderer. The first thing which would spike her mind would be the strangers body position. For the wanderer to turn and face the way she had, she would have twisted her legs in an awkward position, right? With more attention drawn to the wanderers lower section, more questions would rise. Although completely covered with the robe and cloths, Elthariel would be able to tell that the natural shapes and curves which would indicate leg structure are nonexistent. Instead, her lower half would appear as more of a bulge with unnatural tremers and twitches here and there. Indeed, what exactly is this newcomer? Unable to take it anymore, Ponti panics. Launching herself from under the cloak the wanderer moves as fast as she can towards the stone doors and the only chance of escape. Her sudden explosion of movement sends the cloak upward, revealing the two. [Activate Ponti's stun: Ill tidings to whom she meets! Both Elthariel and Ponti are now very visible and Ponti is in a complete senseless panic!] |
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Post by Warsmith Wolf on Nov 7, 2022 4:14:12 GMT -5
Unable to take it anymore, Ponti panics. Launching herself from under the cloak the wanderer moves as fast as she can towards the stone doors and the only chance of escape. Her sudden explosion of movement sends the cloak upward, revealing the two. [Activate Ponti's stun: Ill tidings to whom she meets! Both Elthariel and Ponti are now very visible and Ponti is in a complete senseless panic!] A long, gentle sigh of exasperation. This is what one gets for attempting to be courteous, one supposes. The patient hunter does not chase the flailing prey. Standing from her half-crouch, the Ranger brushes aside the folds of her camo cloak, turns, and offers a gentle bow to the Farseer. “A straggler, lady seer. Flotsam from an unknown shore.” Elthariel, to be frank, holds the entire Ynnari corpse-creed in suspicion at best, but a farseer is a farseer regardless. In absence of better less mordant higher authority, it is she to whom the Ranger has been reporting her findings thus far. |
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Post by LaxKnight on Nov 7, 2022 21:00:01 GMT -5
Unable to take it anymore, Ponti panics. Launching herself from under the cloak the wanderer moves as fast as she can towards the stone doors and the only chance of escape. Her sudden explosion of movement sends the cloak upward, revealing the two. [Activate Ponti's stun: Ill tidings to whom she meets! Both Elthariel and Ponti are now very visible and Ponti is in a complete senseless panic!] As Ponti ran through the open stone door she might see some shapes in the darkness. Spikey shapes. Shapes she may be familiar with. The closest couple Kabalites pointed their guns at Ponti. "Stop!" one of them commanded. ---- Before she could reply to Maebh the sound and motion of rapid movement was heard from the tunnel. Wyvara turned her head slightly to see a "newly" revealed Ranger and a figure running away. As she turned to face the newcomers a vague yet familiar sense of having seen this before came over her briefly. Hmm. A long, gentle sigh of exasperation. This is what one gets for attempting to be courteous, one supposes. The patient hunter does not chase the flailing prey. Standing from her half-crouch, the Ranger brushes aside the folds of her camo cloak, turns, and offers a gentle bow to the Farseer. “A straggler, lady seer. Flotsam from an unknown shore.” Elthariel, to be frank, holds the entire Ynnari corpse-creed in suspicion at best, but a farseer is a farseer regardless. In absence of better less mordant higher authority, it is she to whom the Ranger has been reporting her findings thus far. Wyvara would return the bow. Biel-Tan, a voice hissed in disgust as it tickled her mind. He was never a fan of what he considered warmongers. However, if she learned anything being among the Ynnari she knew that often times individuals were beyond the labels given to their home; especially when applied to an anhrathe. This proved relatively true with this particular Ranger. The Farseer wrapped both of her hands around her Singing Spear in a relaxed manner and said, "Let's see if the flotsam can be persuaded to float onto ours." Closing her eyes, she reached out with her psychic senses to see if the wanderer would come to them or continue to flee. |
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Post by hobbsy on Nov 8, 2022 1:12:00 GMT -5
As Ponti reached the stone door, the prospect of escaping restored some sense to her mind. But the flourishing hope was equally quick to wilt as she founded herself facing several more figures. They weren't there when she had entered. The idea that they may have come with the Farseer crossed her mind, but then she saw the spiked armour and cruelly shaped weaponry. Figures she was all to familiar with.
What were they doing here?! Where they here for the Farseer? The gate? For her even?! Her mind was on the brink of collapse.
The guards would see the stranger immediately double back past the door, not losing any speed in the process. She knew she was not a warrior, and any form of resistance would be meet with wicked retaliation. Ponti, barely able to control her terror at this point, went for the only place she had felt any safety.
Elthariel would find her cloak thrown up once more as Ponti dashed for cover under it behind her back. She quickly threw out her arms either side of the ranger, sporadically giving a message in sign speak. "Help. Evil. Outside."
---
As for the Farseer, if able to see pass the shipwreck of thoughts, she would get the basic understanding of all that is transpiring before anyone else.
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Post by theredauthar on Nov 8, 2022 1:32:59 GMT -5
Unable to take it anymore, Ponti panics. Launching herself from under the cloak the wanderer moves as fast as she can towards the stone doors and the only chance of escape. Her sudden explosion of movement sends the cloak upward, revealing the two. [Activate Ponti's stun: Ill tidings to whom she meets! Both Elthariel and Ponti are now very visible and Ponti is in a complete senseless panic!] A long, gentle sigh of exasperation. This is what one gets for attempting to be courteous, one supposes. The patient hunter does not chase the flailing prey. Standing from her half-crouch, the Ranger brushes aside the folds of her camo cloak, turns, and offers a gentle bow to the Farseer. “A straggler, lady seer. Flotsam from an unknown shore.” Elthariel, to be frank, holds the entire Ynnari corpse-creed in suspicion at best, but a farseer is a farseer regardless. In absence of better less mordant higher authority, it is she to whom the Ranger has been reporting her findings thus far. Maebh had not been observant enough to notice Elthariel or Ponti. So their sudden and explosive “appearance” into the room. Like any proper Aeldari, Maebh's reaction is controlled, though the others can easily tell how shaken by the event she really is as she drops her helm into the sand at her feet as she turns to see the last few seconds of Ponti as she barrels out of the room. She looks towards Elthariel as she speaks. Something about the Ranger has rubbed her the wrong way. Perhaps she’s reading too much in the way the Ranger speaks to the Farseer. After all, the Ranger is not speaking to her at all. She’s about to say something when the other one comes running back in, giving her only enough time to see the figure approach and duck behind, no, into the Ranger’s cloak. What could have spooked her so badly? Carefully she approaches the doorway. As a Ynnari Guardian, it is her job to protect the Farseer if something is amiss. |
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