In honour of the EoT-campaign, and the battles fought there, I wrote this a moment ago, and before I share it with GW I would like to share it with you.
Doom of the Thousand Sons
By Rasmus
www.eldaronline.comThe swift advance was undetected by the firepost. The forces of the Thousand Sons who had taken it had barricaded the forward gates and manned the towers and walls, but none of their dead eyes saw the advance.
The unseen leapt and vaulted over the twisted debris from the battle. Huge charred battletanks and burned-out suits of armour told of the bravery of the defenders as the Thousand Sons had made their way down the field. They had made the aggressors pay a hefty price for their win here. For all their valour, however, they could not stand against the sorcerous might of the forces of Chaos, and the firepost had fallen. That was two days ago. It was time that they paid.
With a monstrous leap the first group of warriors cleared the wall, landing softly on its top. The forms crouched, and the leader spun on her heel, extending her blade. The blade flashed with crackling energies for a second, and a guard, long dead, fell from the wall.
A searchlight flared into being and started scanning the wall, but unable to see anything it resumed its sweep of the far wall, where the old defenders were thought to make their counter-attack. Another group of warriors cleared the wall, and another. Then the silent form of their leader appeared as a ghost over the top of the wall, landing softly among his warriors. It strode, like an apparition, along the wall, and then pointed to a central tower of the firepost. It was a sensortower, but it had been gutted by some great explosion, and now seemed hollow, and empty.
Without a word the three groups of warriors cleared the space between the wall and the tower in a long silent bound. The first two groups slipped through the holes blasted in the wall of the seemingly empty tower, and quickly dispelled the illusion as they found a Sorcerer in there with his bodyguard, all engaged in some horrid ceremony. The leader of the unseen warriors dove to the bottom of the hollow tower, cutting an empty suit of armour from helmet to lower back with his long claws, and the battle began.
Swirling half-seen forms of graceful speed cut into lumbering shapes of unnatural strength and toughness, and the empty armours fought back, cutting at the unseen attackers they hit only air, and one after another they fell, crashing to the floor as their lifeforce became too weak to hold together the armour that was now their only physical form.
The Sorcerer, protected by his guard, tried to finish the ceremony, but the sustained assault was too much for him, and with a flick of his wrist he sent a gale rushing through the room, flinging the unseen attackers away and lifted, flying through the hollow cylinder of the tower and smashed through the ceiling far above. Free he turned, ready to assume command of his warriors and kill these intruders, as a smile flashed before him in the darkness, and the last group of warriors surrounded him, flung themselves at him in the darkness, and cut him down.
Still unseen the warriors picked up their few fallen comrades and left just as they had, leaping from the top of the wall and dancing across the field, disappearing into the darkness, back through the portals from which they had come. The Harlequin doom had befallen the Thousand Sons of this place, and there was no way they could resist the advance of the Imperial armoured column making it’s way towards the firepost as the sun slowly rose.
The End
