Editing Eldrad

So, Eldrad Ulthran is a dick. It seems shocking to hear and I know he is the guiding light of our people, but in all honestly, he's a total dick.

I know this because I served with him. You see, I am a Warlock. You can imagine my excitement when I was first assigned to his retinue. I took no heed to the fact his last set of Warlocks supposedly died in "a most ironic manner". I was young back then, only 19 000, and naive.

As soon as I met Eldrad in person he gave me my first order: "find a howling banshee exarch, and a witch blade for yourself, we are going to Setrus Prime (as the monkeigh called it)." He actually said the parenthesis by leaning forward and placing a hand beside his mouth to direct his voice to me alone. He is kind of a douche that way, we were in the room alone.

Anyway, Eldrad, the banshee exarch and I sortie to the planet's surface. I project some illusionary cover to shield our hiding spot and the exarch and I await more orders. Before us a great battle is being waged between a force of the monkeigh Space Marines and our fallen brethren, the Dark Eldar. About 20 minutes into the battle Eldrad points to a pebble by his foot and says "Move this small stone to where I am pointing now." He points to an innocuous patch of ground. Dumbfounded but trusting, I do as he says. No sooner had I reached cover did a Space Marine bike roar past me, straight over the pebble. The mighty treads of the bike's wheels fling the pebble up into an empty stretch of air. It hangs there for a moment, then a Dark Eldar reaver rushes into it, the pebble sucked into its jet intake. The reaver sputters then bursts into flames, accelerating rapidly, right into a Talos. The Talos was not of regular design, not that any ever are. This one was a mass of spinning blades with a screaming humanoid in its center, the body of which was too mutilated to even identify its race.

I might mention at this point that Eldrad has not turned to look at the ensuing chaos, instead he is staring in the direction of myself and our howling banshee companion.

When the reaver hit the talos, all hell broke loose as the twirling saws of the unsavory machine broke free like angry daemons being exorcised. I saw one blade, bouncing and racing directly towards us at ludicrous speeds. And I am an Eldar, I know speed. I brace my witch blade for the impact readying myself to take the blow, to save the farseer in my protection. The blades hit and both the saw and the witch blade veer off directly towards the banshee exarch. Both blades merely graze her, just deep enough to cut the restraints that hold her costume on. As her armour falls away exposing her breasts, I realize why Eldrad was staring at her. He giggles, then orders a full retreat.

What a dick.

----

So Eldrad is a huge dick, but I think I have proven that by now. What I haven't told you is that he is, without a doubt, the greatest psyker in the universe.

I never saw this more exemplified than when we went to deal with a splinter fleet of Hive Fleet Leviathan. The first thing Eldrad did was use his massive reservoir of power to redirect the entire hive fleet 0.3 degrees off course. At first we had no idea why, but he assured us there was a reason. 134 years later we encountered the swarm again, and now we saw his plan, the fleet was heading straight into a desolate backwater planet. Using yet more of his might, Eldrad hid the entire planet from the fleet's sight. This caused the entire hive fleet to crash square into the planet's surface. He then called for me and the rest of his retinue to sortie down to the planet, we had a mission.

[[Image:Eldrad2.jpg | frame | right |  182px | What a dick. ]]


Once on the surface the bleeding husks of charred hive ships loomed over us like cold organic volcanoes. And then in a clearing, we found our quarry, a mighty hive tyrant, its psychic eminence clouding my own mind like a thick whispering fog. Eldrad was not taken aback in the slightest, he stepped forward, unarmed, right into the clutches of the hive tyrant. He then began to emulate the hive tyrant's psychic powers, only at a much higher magnitude. He had made himself into a synapse creature of immense power. So much so he brow beat the mighty tyranid into submission. He then turned to us, tyranid leader in tow, and said, "We are returning, we have what we came for." Although impressed by Eldrad's mastery of the mind, we all could not stop pondering his master plan. Why would he need such a mighty beast? It was not till the next morning that I knew. Pasted throughout the ENTIRE CRAFTWORLD were pictures of the titanic monstrosity and its ..... titanic monstrosity resting on my face as I slept. I never even knew tyranids had genitalia.

What a dick.

----

You know, Eldrad Ulthran really is a dick. I've said it before, and I have absolutely no doubt that I will say it again. He has skill and power of heights that are only reachable, even for most Eldar, in their dreams, and how does he use them? He uses them like this:

Years ago, a minor Ork Waaagh sprung up and launched itself against the Mon Keigh world they call Lentak II. It's an insigificant planet by any definition except, apparently, Eldrad's. He summoned me and told me we were going to Lentak, and that it was of the utmost importance to see that a certain battle took a particular course. He also told me to bring along the best sniper I could find, adding that "He might come in handy," with a wink like he was passing on some kind of secret message. Typical Eldrad behavior, that.

So, we get down to the surface of Lentak and locate the "important" battle, in a rocky pass high up in a mountain range. Eldrad isn't wearing his helmet, the better to display the horribly annoying half-smile that's on his face the whole time, the one he puts on when he knows something you don't and is about to use that information. I'm busy projecting an illusion to keep Mon Keigh and the Orks from noticing us, Eldrad and the sniper are just watching the battle from the rock outcrop where we're standing. Finally, Eldrad points at a particular Ork nob riding in the back of one of their wartrukks.

"That one. Take off his ear. His *left* ear. Right...now."

The sniper fires, cleanly severing the Ork's ear. The thing roars like the beast it is, looks around, and smacks the Ork beside it right off the back of the bouncing vehicle. The fallen Ork doesn't even have time to stop rolling before it gets run over by another Ork on a warbike; the bike nearly crashes, and one of the bombs sitting in a rack near the back bounces loose and falls to the ground. Eldrad looks at it, nods in satisfaction, and motions for us to leave.

Five of the Mon Keigh years pass. Five blessed, beloved years, in which I do not hear nor see Eldrad a single time. I don't know where he was, or what he does when he's not busy being a dick; probably off seducing Tau or members of whatever other young race has caught his fancy recently. Anyway, those five years pass all too quickly, and then Eldrad comes back, contacts me, and tells me we're going back to Lentak II, just the two of us. This, of course, sets my teeth on edge, because I know he's going to do something unbearably dickish, but I can't exactly refuse the most important Farseer of my Craftworld.

[[Image:Eldrad_hat.jpg | frame | right |  182px | A total dick. ]]


Sure enough, we wind up back in that same mountain pass, watching a column of Imperial Guard troops march past. This time, we're down at roughly the same level as the guardsmen, but since there are only two of us, it's easy for me to project sufficient camouflage. Good thing, because Eldrad sure wasn't helping. I notice that the wreckage from the battle years ago hasn't been completely cleaned; some has been pushed up against the walls of the pass, some hasn't.

I belatedly remember the fallen bomb and start to look for it, but before I can spot it, a Chimera with a commissar riding in its open hatch finds it on its own. The explosion bounces the vehicle into the air, and the unsecured commissar goes flying. Shrapnel flies towards us and I dodge, rolling across the ground to avoid the splintered metal.

When I look up, I see Eldrad, standing with the sunrise behind him, posed like a statue with his head high and his fists on his hips. An instant later, the commissar's hat lands right on his head. And Eldrad, the dick, holds the pose and smirks at me. I almost dropped the illusion and let the Mon Keigh kill us both, but then I realized Eldrad would probably have some way of escaping even that.

Never in my nearly twenty thousand years of life have I met a bigger dick than Eldrad Ulthran.

----

So, I've already told you about how Eldrad Ulthran is a dick. You've heard it all, all the sad stories...except, of course, you haven't, because Eldrad constantly generates more indignities to pile upon me. I thought he'd give me a break after the incident Tissalk Secunda; he really went too far on that one, and after they finally stopped laughing, the rest of the expeditionary force were giving him some funny looks. I thought he wouldn't anything else so soon. I was wrong.

With the Grey Ones rising again to wage war against all life, many of our priorities have been shifted to meet this resurgent threat. Thus, when Eldrad said he was working on a project and needed the body of a Necron warrior, everyone assumed he meant it was for research into some kind of weapon to use against them. Under any other circumstances, getting the order from Eldrad to gather a raiding group together would have filled me with fear that I was going to be the butt of another joke, but even Eldrad has to be serious where the ancient enemy is concerned...right?

Besides, to be honest, I was too busy being afraid of the Grey Ones to worry about whatever dickish maneuver Eldrad must be planning. I've faced the Mon Keigh, the Orks, our fallen brethren, and the horrors of the Warp, and such foes do not frighten me, but the soulless enemy does. They're so...cold. Nevertheless, let it not be said that I did not do my duty when called upon.

We flew almost to the edge of the galaxy; myself, my handpicked force, and Eldrad, who actually acted professionally during the long transit. I kept glancing over my shoulder, literally and metaphorically, expecting his true nature to assert itself, but we reached the tomb world without incident. We landed on that ancient soil, and all my senses were screaming at me to get back in the ship and get away, back to Ulthwe and (relative) safety. But we went further. We went down into a tomb, Eldrad opening the way for us.

Down in that darkness, I was more scared than I ever had been in my whole life, all 19,872 years of it; this was one of the most nerve-wracking (if not THE most nerve-wracking) tasks I'd ever been given as a member of Eldrad's retinue. Eldrad had a device with him, a band of wraithbone he claimed had taken him nearly a year to create; he told us that it would keep a Necron in stasis, regardless of what transpired. He also said that our presence wouldn't wake the tomb world; I just had to cling tight to my staff and pray that he was right. Naturally, Eldrad being Eldrad, we couldn't just grab the warrior closest to the entrance and run for it; we had to find the "right" one, which meant walking for nearly an hour into the tomb's depths before he finally selected one identical to every other warrior and locked the band around its head.

By the time we get back to the surface, which took even longer than going in because we dropped that heavy Necron no less than four times on the way back, I'm a bundle of nerves, and it only gets worse during the flight. I can't sleep inside our little ship, knowing that soulless killing machine is onboard with us, knowing about the wars that they fought against our ancestors, and what kind of deaths the Eldar in those days met. It keeps running through my head that it's almost my birthday, that I'll soon be turning 19,873, and that I don't want to get snuffed out before I hit the twenty-thousand-year mark. That's no way for an Eldar to go.

The ship arrives back at Ulthwe the day before my birthday. Eldrad, grinning enigmatically, heads off to his workshop with the Necron, and I stumble up to my cozy dwelling bubble and fall straight into bed, still wearing the same warlock robes I've been wearing since the tomb world. Yes, it was nasty, like something a Mon Keigh would do. I was so tired I didn't care. If that Necron wanted to get me, it'd have to fight through half of Ulthwe to reach me, coming from Eldrad's bubble complex. I slept at last.

Not that it helped much. In my dreams, I'm back in the tomb, with Grey Ones rising to life around me. I run, but I'm trapped; I try to fight, and I get torn into bleeding shreds. I wake up, feeling barely better than when I got off the mission ship, and realize that it's my birthday. Congratulations, self. Outside my bubble, I can sense the collected presence of family and friends, come to wish me success in my new year. Well, you only turn 19,873 once, so I drag myself out of bed, toss my grimy robes aside, and head for the shower; I figure a little session there should revive me enough to at least face my well-wishers graciously. I step through the bathroom door, pull back the shower curtain, and the Necron is in my shower cubicle.

THE NECRON IS IN MY SHOWER CUBICLE. Poised as if to strike, hands raised and clawed metal fingers spread - that memory is one I shall carry to the end of time.

I do the worst thing I possibly could. I panic. I scream at the top of my lungs and run headlong...out of the bathroom...out of my dwelling bubble...and come face-to-face with my birthday crowd. While wearing my "birthday suit," just like a scene from an embarrassing nightmare. There's a moment in which everyone goes silent - everyone except Eldrad, standing off to one side, his snickering audible to all.

I suspect that they'll still be talking about this when I turn 20,000. Thanks, Eldrad. Way to ruin my birthday.

What a dick.

[[Category:Meme]]
[[Category:Skubhammer]]