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Jet black jet bikes streaked through the early morning mists, startling hundreds of fauna in their morning reverie. The urgency of their mission portrayed by their speed and near reckless pursuit of the single vyper in the distance. Theirs was a grim mission. The man in control of the vyper jet was known to them and revered by them. However, destiny was not to be cheated, and their orders were from the highest office. Delivered by none other than their phoenix lord, the command came directly from the great seer Eldrad himself. The mission was simple. "Bring back Elfarion dead or alive before he contacted the monkeigh!" The gravity of their situation was made clear when their seer council had leaped in to the webway to reach Malaarch rapidly. On their arrival they found Elfarion already making his escape, and called in the strike force immediately through the webway portal. Now they were hunting one of their own, and he was very good indeed. If not for the presence of the seer council in their command vypers, the strike force would have lost their quarry within mere minutes. Although the members of the seer council were individually no match for the famed Elfarion, they had the advantage of numbers. Each hunting group being led by a seer in a vyper jet had allowed them to devise and elaborate chase pattern aimed at slowly encircling their quarry. Their aim was to capture him alive and save themselves the distress of having to kill their own kin. Yet the hunted refused to remain as the quarry. A sudden eldritch storm had blasted the first team that had tried to cut him off, leaving lithe bodies and gracious machines smashed asunder. Two more hunter groups had been confused in to tracking each other for hours before realising their mistake. One group suddenly surprised similar jet bikes armed with vicious scythes. The ulthwe' guardians were just as surprised as their dark kin but reacted faster, resulting in a complete and overwhelming victory for the strike force. The Dark Eldar force was no doubt after the same quarry. Despite the welcome success, it seemed to Ta'neer that they had lost the elusive seer. He had been an exarch for more time than his memory could serve but never had he been so eluded by his quarry. Such was his fate, he thought to himself, that he would return in dishonour and shame after a failed mission.

Fate however had other plans. Fate is a convenient excuse for most species to explain the unexplainable and justify the unjustifiable. The elder were no exception, though their species had elevated the defining of such strands of fate to a fine art. There were similar counterparts within each species, the psykers of the humans, the weirdboyz of the orks and so on and so forth. Yet once in a while the strands of fate choose take a completely incomprehensible turn unseen by all. On this day it appeared in the form of vaul-birds, the native birds of Malaarch. These predatory birds normally accustomed to the noises and machinery of bipedal species became aroused as if a giant hand had grabbed them and thrown them in the air. The early morning mists were suddenly filled with thousands of such birds, awoken from their slumber and driven by some unseen force to fly in to the air. In their half dazed leap for the sky many smashed in to one another. Some lost their sense of direction and crashed in to the ground. A few unfortunates smashed on to the oncoming vyper jet bikes.

Elfarion cursed as his engine shuddered with multiple bird strikes ad his controls came alive in his hands. Behind him he could sense the sudden awareness of danger as his pursuers also tried to avoid the vast cloud of birds. Elfarion quickly glanced at the chronometer and the moving map sigils. He was a mere ten minutes away from his rendezvous point. He knew he would never make it. As the ground rushed up only his supreme skill and psychic presience allowed the vyper to crash land in a controlled fashion. The advanced design of the elder warmachine, constructed with the aim of maximum survivability for their precious lives, preserved the form of Elfarion. As he stumbled from the wreckage, spitting sand and grime, fumbling for his singing spear he saw the tell tale signs of approaching jet bikes. He couldn't focus his mind enough to read the strands of fate. Perhaps this is how he will die, at the hands of his own kin. He looked towards the direction of is meeting point and saw nothing. He was too far away. The leading jet bike was mere minutes away and there was little left within the great seer to give. He stood there watching the jet black bike skim victoriously towards him, wondering if he should destroy it with a swift psychic blast or spare his kin. He wondered if he would be able to destroy all of them rapidly enough to reach his rendezvous. Such precious elder life, yet the stakes were high. Then his decision was removed from him as a bright ray of light struck the leading jet bike and an instant later turning it in to an inferno. Ta'neer died without knowing his executioner, only realising that he had indeed failed in his mission.

All mayhem broke loose as the staccato bark of heavy bolter fire interspersed with the hissing of missiles and the silent beams of lascannons. A perfectly sprung trap using the farseer as bait had been only possible by pure chance, or fate as the elder would put it. Black power armoured space marines appeared from over the sand encrusted ridge line, blasting the speeding jet bikes at will. A full scale assault developed as forces of both sides came in to join this meeting engagement, both sides trying their best to reach the stumbling farseer. As the few surviving members of the seer council rapidly disembarked and activated yet more webway portals more black guardians poured through, their weapons barking monomolecular death at the black armoured Angels of Vengeance. Try as the elder may the Angels of Vengeance would not be moved. A counter attack by their assault squad led by interrogator-chaplain Zaphel reached the farseer and despite horrendous casualties managed to bring him back to their lines. Elfarion knew his fate was sealed and looked about trying to identify the one he had seen in his visions. Through the dust and smoke of the battle, and through his newly found bodyguards, he suddenly saw the man he sought. Librarian Adonis was just as astonished as the farseer called to him by name and clasped his hands around elbows. "Take my knowledge and close the second eye" were the only words the lonely elder would speak as his mind linked with that of the librarian. The librarian's psychic hood lit up with a warning as it attempted to protect the human brain from psychic overload, yet the information passed by the farseer entered the mind of the young codicier with such force that it nearly incinerated that organ. The psychic force was such that a force bubble built around them preventing the space marine companions from aiding the librarian until the whole process was cut short in a flurry of shuriken and starcannon fire. As the dying farseer looked at the librarians face, he realised that he had accomplished his mission. "The eye must close" was his last urgent words to Adonis, who was struggling to comprehend the gift he had been given. Seeing the death of their quarry the black guardian strike force rapidly withdrew, leaving behind half their number as a testimony to the ferocious assault by the Angels of Vengeance.
Doctrinae Unforgiven
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Gathering of Angels
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Chronicled By ( Shadow Guard )
This section provides the narrative history of the events that took place during the Gathering of Angels campaign conducted by the Inner Circle, during Abaddon's Thirteenth Black Crusade. This is in no way the official GW version nor is it in anyway an attempt to infringe on their IP. There are many versions of imperial history buried within the sands of time and this is but just one of them. Read on if you dare!
GoA Volume I: Revelation
GoA Volume II: Nest of Vipers
GoA Volume IV: Battle for Caliban
GoA Volume III: The Grand Circle
GoA Appendices
GoA Volume V: Desperate Hours