Board Thread:Warhammer 40k Roleplay/@comment-7232811-20130913205549/@comment-7232811-20130920223003

Oh there is plenty there LOS. You needn't worry about that...

(I look at the jetbikes)

Quickly now, we must go. Follow me brothers...

(I jump from the landing platform, falling about twenty metres before landing in a ruined avenue. I rush thorugh it, followed by the other sorcerers, until we reach a large bio-dome. At least, it had been, though it was largely devoid of life, all of it having long since withered away as time wore it down. We head inside, evading our pursuers & tracking the source of power.)

Deeper in the craftworld...

(the figure finally arrives at his destination. It is a stupendously large chamber, so massive as to be nigh-incomprehensible to the eyes of a mortal, to the extent that it is barely possible to see the opposite end of room from one side. Yet it is the things within the room that he is here for, not to merely admire the view. Once, this chamber would have been an armoury, filled with the weapons of war for his race, battle tanks to blast his foes into oblivion, & aircraft hanging from wracks on the vaulted ceiling. Now though, it serves as a morgue. For lining much of the walls are serried ranks of towering figures, sculpted from the same material as the craftworld, & all with faceless masks that echoe his own helm. Each & every one is armed with a mighty weapon, more comparable to tank weaponry than a man-sized weapon. Even the smallest of them tower over a man, well over the height of a space marine. Less numerous, though far more terrifying, are mighty cousins to the smaller constructs, each one well over the height of a dreadnought, & more than capable of besting it in a fight. Yet at the heart of the throng are three solitary figures, capable of rivalling a small titan in terms of size, & each looking like it could fight an entire war on its own. The figure goes to their feet, & taps into what's left of the craftworld's infinity circuit. He shares the grief of the beings trapped within the mighty wraithbone shells, & weeps bitter tears as he begins the process of reawakening the revenants, along with their many smaller cousins.)

OOC: Incase you didn't read the earlier post, this is a RUINED craftworld. Aka, it's almost completely abandoned. There are no huge garrisons here, no vast bodies of troops, of any sort. The only things at all on the craftworld are a few passing rangers, some harlequins (due to how they travel the webway), & the mysterious figure who is conducting his spells in the heart of the craftworld. Yes, he is an Eldar, but he is very important to this campaign. & possibly some in the future as well...