Exarch Salandrin strode down the halls of the craftword, his footsteps rang slightly against the pale smooth wraith bone walls that surrounded him, encasing him in the tomb of a dying race. "buried alive and clawing our last breath away" he mused silently to himself.
Salandrin waged war in much of that final breath, he could never recall when he found himself lost on the path of the dragon, but it had consumed him and now was all he hungered for; the heat that raged from his pike made his blood burn fiercely and seeing the fires of the dragon purge the galaxy of the filth that had usurped the Eldar's empire elated his soul and fueled his battle lust.
Now was the most trying part of the endless cycle, waiting. The timeless journey made him feel caged, he longed to return to the calm of battle, where he could ply his craft and destroy in ways that he had honed into art. Today was different, a young warlock, fresh on the path, had entered his shrine and had told him that Farseer Chantiel had requested his presence in her mediation chambers.
He came out of his reverie and realized that he was already standing outside of her chamber, he put his hand to the pale wraith bone door and with a thought, the door silently slide open. The room was dim, save for a light in the center of the room that contained the subject of his search.
Chantiel stood in the center of the room under the light, glowing runes danced around her, shifting ever so slightly, flowing in a pattern that only she seemed capable of deciphering. One in particular caught Salandrins' attention, the rune he had become one with. it was the symbol of the dragon, aspect of the great Kaela Mensha Khaine, avatar of war. slowly the rune glided along a path then, as it slowed, grew brighter. the rune burned intensely then in an instance, flickered and died. Chantiel looked at it grimly then turned and looked at Salandrin as if noticing him in her presence for the first time.
"Greetings exarch Salandrin" she said with an air of formality.
"Well met Farseer" he replied quickly then nodded to where her runes were just dancing, "I have heard you sought my presence."
Chantiel waved her hand and the runes drifted into oblivion, "I have need of your craft Exarch." Chantiel looked at Salandrin with sincere concern and continued, "I have scryed the paths of the future, they are wispy and uncertain, such is the way of the future; easily manipulated by every action we make. We shape fate as it shapes us, but many strands intersect at one point" Chantiel turned and looked at where her scrying runes had just been. "there is a planet you must go to, forces are gathering there and I have seen that the actions on this planet may inadvertently bring the craftworld into danger"
Salandrin's eyes narrowed as she finished her thoughts and spoke quickly "then I will gather a strike team of my fiercest dragons and we shall sing the song of flame upon this planet"
Chantiel turned and returned her eyes to his once more, "Take a small strike team of my personal guardians too, they shall serve you well in the battle to come."
Salandrin nodded, then bowed slightly and strode out back into the halls, the dragons song beginning to rise once more at the thought of the upcoming conflict.
As the door slide closed Farseer Chantiel raised the psychic energy in the room once more. she brought the dragon rune to her and looked at it; it burned brightly but then flickered and died. Chantiel frowned deeply and despaired, she knew what the signs where saying, that she had sent Salandrin to the world of his ultimate demise, but she knew the fate of the craftworld rest on the battles that lay ahead for Salandrin, and the craftworld must be preserved, and all too often it required the blood of Eldar to be shed.
The dragon's flight
Fire dragon Exarch Salandrin - fire pike, crack shot (Tank hunter)
dragon ken-shah (feel no pain)
dragon Shi' Yovel (move through cover)
Chantiel's personal guardian squad
Scatter laser weapons platform
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