Board Thread:Warhammer 40k Roleplay/@comment-14745711-20140609000528/@comment-24081662-20140713215504

OOC: Huh. that is very interesting timing considering my next move.

IC: Numeax stands high over the battlefield

Numeax: I dont like this. There are too many enemies... I dont trust our chances. After the last disaster... I dont think its worth the possible casualties. Our soldiers are not easilys replaced.

Officer: But we have to win this battle! if we dont take over a system soon the attrition....

Numeax: Look around you! the eldar who were once in this system fighting with us have gone over to Talik's side. And what will we do when he shows up? with our forces distracted he could easily overwhelm us. There are simply too many enemies in this system for it to be worth the risk...

Officer: Attrition, my lord. What will we do about that? we have no craftworld, no homeland; this fleet cannot sustain us forever.

Numeax: We go to our allies.

Officer (he is officially named Farentrill!): I dont like having to place ourselves under their.... custody. I dont trust'em.

Numeax: I dont either. But what choice do we have?

Suddenly a noice comes from behind them, as a tall figure cloaked in shadows, strides to the forefront. Cloaked not in armor, and without weapons... no significant psychic presence... But a much more subtle, powerful weapon.

High Prince Sthadrin of Chrylli: I have had quite enough of this! Perhaps, Numeax, you have forgotten who is in command of this nation?

Numeax: the fleet is mine, and I am the strategist. And I say that our best move is to retreat

Sthadrin: Perhaps, but it is not your right to put ourselves under the custody of those.... Things.

Numeax: My prince, we....

Sthadrin cuts him off.

Sthadrin: No! we will fight to take this system, or die tr-

Sthadrin is cut off as a blade pierces his back. Blood pours from his lips as he dies with a shocked expression.

Talik stands behind him, along with an army of uncloaking warriors, a sadistic grin on his face, his halberd and koro'astrian shield forged of some strange substance, dressed in a hardened jet black armor, inscribed in silver runes.

Talik: Miss me?