Editing The Consortium (section)

==Divergence: LOF-N==
Taldeer had always taken solace in the less travelled paths of the Craftworld, wandering through towering spire that reached towards artificial sky, the twisted maw of the Eye of Terror hidden from view. She needed to clear her thoughts and to will her nagging conscience to imagine she did the right thing, to lie to herself so that the weight of her own selfish world did not crush her.<br>

Such solitude was not to be on this dread night, and the raven-haired Farseer heard them before she peered about a corner. A ring of Black Guardians stood about the aptly titled monkeigh-hole that led to the craftworld's myriad of waste disposal pipes. Their catapults were engaged, the runes of battle glowing faintly by their triggers. Someone else was with them, garbed in a specialist suit to protect the wearer from harm or infection, clambering his way out with something tucked under his arm.<br>

Taldeer was curious, but her powers of foresight seemed to will her in place, clutching the side of the softly thrumming alleyway in equal parts curiosity and concern.<br>

"In all my years on the path of sanitation maintenance," the specialist sighed, "The system has never flushed out something like this."<br>

"Be careful with that," one of the guardians spoke warily, his stance betraying his previous time in the aspect of the Dire Avengers, "Just because it isn't violent yet-"<br>

Taldeer squinted, peering to try to make out the shape of what it was the worker held. One of the other guardians made it easier, brushing a rune on his chest-plate that activated his shoulder-lamp, casting a soft light across the retrieved entity. Everyone about it but the worker took a backwards step in revulsion.<br>

It pulsed and writhed, alive and cooing with guttural noises from an indeterminate orifice, its misshapen and many limbs wriggling, its many eyes squinting against the light that shone upon its sickened form.<br>

"No..." Taldeer's voice choked, and even though none else there heard it, her mutated child defied its lack of ears, and pointed all its horrible form in her direction, and squealed with a sound that would have curdled milk.<br>

Though the assembled Eldar never saw who it was that responded to the thing's cry, all knew it as a wail of a heart breaking into ever-more tiny pieces, of madness and torment. The thing was kept for study and then disposed of when it was determined to be the spawn of man and eldar, its existence kept quiet to spare the unknown owner of their shame.<br>

To those that dealt with it before it was incinerated, the thing was named after the sector of the sewer that the beast was found in.<br>

LOF-N.