"...and though I understand that the intelligence we have is not the greatest, we need to figure out a good place to find this artillery and destroy it. The Striking Scorpions are experts at ambush, so I was hoping for your input, Kallen."
The Leopards, all thirty seven humans and Eldar that made up the unit, were gathered around Roger in the glade. He had laid the large picts on the ground, hoping that he could get an opinion sooner than later. Evita stood on a slight hill, watching the group, almost as if she was preparing for the Eldar to attack. He frowned, thinking that they had gotten over this already, but old habits and all that. Kallen took the pict and inspected it, motioning Gwyndair to look it over as well.
"I would recommend against attacking them on the move. With a force of this size, if they were stationary and in one single place, it would be more devastating and complete," Kallen concluded.
"I concur," Gwyndair added. "Knowing the ammunition used by these weapons, a chain reaction or a similar event would be far more efficient than an ambush."
"Moire, what could you and the Avengers do?"
"Do not assume that we have an inability to operate stealthily. We can place explosives or organize a diversionary attack."
"I dunno," Davie said, "Those helmets of yours are hard to miss."
"Oi, be nice. Besides, those Scorpions are all about ambush and they're running around with dreadlocks jangling over the place."
"Aye. Sorry Rog."
"As I was stating before I was interrupted," Moire hissed with annoyance, "A diversionary attack is possible as well."
"That seems risky when there's twenty five to thirty thousand soldiers nearby. I would say that you should assist in planting explosives. We were issued some at the Cathedral, but-"
"We can provide more of our make. And they would most likely be more destructive than the ones you have provided."
"Thank you Alax."
"You can remember all their names?" Hawke whispered.
"A few, don't interrupt me please."
"The Medusas are what you want," a female voice from behind suddenly said.
The entire unit turned to Helene, who instantly regretted speaking out and getting the attention.
"W-well, what I mean is that the Basilisk rounds are good at blowing things up, but the Medusas are bigger caliber. More bang for the trouble."
"We shall rely on your expertise, Helene," Kallen said, receiving a glare that signified his comments a couple days ago were not forgotten.
"I can point them out when we get there. If they're using standard Guard procedure, they'll keep them away from the rest of the force, but have plenty of sentries. Ammunition has a bad fucking tendency to explode even when it's the good stuff, so the PDF issue garbage, especially made without the rest of the Imperium's support…" she whistled. "That has to be more dangerous than an underhive strip joint on payday."
The Eldar looked at Roger, obviously not understanding the remark.
"Dangerous and poorly made rounds, easy to set off. Makes our work slightly easier."
"Normally on convoy they would stockpile it in certain areas, certain vehicles. Given how basic these morons are, I wouldn't doubt for a second they wouldn't do the same."
Roger nodded before noticing Anylrch raising a hand.
"Question. These vehicles are tracked or wheeled. Would they move with the enemy force, or go ahead and establish a defensive position pre-emptively?"
"That depends on the commander and the strategy. But if they did establish a defensive position, that would be harder to wipe out the whole unit, but they would have a central ammunition dump. I think it would be better to hit them when they're not dug in."
"Are we getting any further observation and intelligence from your leaders?" Moire asked.
"Not really. I can request overhead observation, but whether that helps is a toss up. But we have a force of long range scouts that could observe and monitor, right Cruniach?"
"Correct, Roger. Once we estimate their movements, I will deploy my warriors to observe and report."
"Good. So the mission is as such. We're going to wipe this artillery regiment out, and then we're going to find Edmunds army, where the lads and I will rejoin them and engage in whatever fight he gets dragged into."
"And we shall join you?" Kallen asked.
"No."
"What do you mean no?" one of the Rangers asked.
To Rogers surprise, it wasn't any of the usual suspects.
"You all have served me well, and have saved the Third Corps enough times. But this is not your fight, or your people's fight. You've all risked enough with our escapades, and you aren't dying for a war not your own. When we finish this mission, you're all back under Ducaish's command."
A disturbing silence filled the glade, and Roger was praying that there would be no disagreement. Of course, as usual, he was wrong.
"We swore to stand by you," Anxo growled. "You and your comrades are in danger, facing a fight you cannot win. You do not need to join them in-"
"They're our friends!" Parky interjected. "Would you all run away if your friends were in danger?"
Roger held up a hand to quiet the boy down, much as he agreed with him.
"There's nothing to say or argue about, you can standby during the fight, but the odds aren't great. We've survived bad scrapes, but this looks worse than ever. I appreciate your concern."
Silence again. Roger could tell from the faces before him that they were not happy, but acceded to his wishes. He was in command after all.
"As I said, I appreciate it, and there may be ways you can help us, but for right now, I ask you follow me, get those cannons, and get back to Ducaish. That's it. Ranger, Scorpion and Avenger alike. I'm not happy about it, but dammit, I 'd rather die standing with my brothers than run away and live with a guilty conscience."
"Unfortunately Roger, whatever plans you had for your Rangers must be changed."
The whole group turned to the new voice, a few gasps of surprise from human and Eldar alike.
"Bloody hell!" Davie said.
"Big lady," Bob said thoughtlessly.
Surprisingly, given his limited vocabulary, Bob summed up the human thoughts of Farseer Alwyn quite succinctly.
XXXXXX
Roger and the Farseer were sitting away from the Leopards, given a modicum of privacy. Roger was thankful they were, especially given his reaction to her request.
"All of them? But I need them!"
"Rangers are a finite resource, especially for Ducaish. They all serve the Craftworld when they wish to, and compared to others like Alaitoc, we only have so many to rely on. Those under your leadership are needed elsewhere for our operations."
"You can't just-I-we need them. I can't go in dark with something like this. Not with the stakes this high!"
"Your were only given command through an agreement between myself and Prince Edmund, one of the caveats being that you would obey my requests and relinquish command of my warriors when needed."
"Which I respect, but I want to know why now. You had plenty of-"
Roger sighed in frustration and sat down on a nearby rock, burying his face in his hands.
"Take them."
"I am willing to make a small adjustment to my request."
"And that is?"
"I will leave you with two Rangers. Of your choice."
He looked up at her and looked into her eyes. They were blue, hauntingly human, yet there was something behind them that he could never fathom to understand. They were exactly like Anya's. Throne, she looked exactly like her mother. And if his fathers advice about women and their mothers were anything to go by-
"Have you decided Roger?"
"Anya and Steryn."
"An interesting choice. May I ask why?"
"Your daughter can be emissary for you and Prince Edmund when we finish this operation. And she's been a good asset for the unit."
"And Steryn?"
"She's been intrigued by some facets of my homeworlds culture. What better way than to see us at war?"
"I see no issue with your choices. However, as a mother, I would ask my daughter be left out of the battle."
"I ordered none of your warriors to join us, that is acceptable. And given their skills, it will be very easy for them to escape."
The two did not speak or move for a few moments before Alwyn spoke again.
"Roger, do you believe the coming battle will end poorly for you?"
"Yes. We may have experience, but what good is a man who knows how to fight when facing four or five bastards for every one of you?"
"We have been victorious with worse odds. Much worse. Even against your Space Marines."
"Yeah, well, you're Eldar. We're just humans given some armor, a lasgun, and got told to die somewhere."
He slapped his leg and stood up, stretching as he did so. Alwyn instantly noticed his sword.
"I see you have kept that relic of our time in the ruins."
"Its a good sword. I still have those clothes too. Maybe I'll survive all this and get to wear them again. Did you find anything else down there?"
"A few other small objects. We have had to maintain a constant watch over it, lest our fallen brethren try to attack again."
"I always wondered about them. Where did the survivors run to?"
"We are not sure. If you find our kind prone to ambush, they are even worse. They rely on speed and fast-strikes, they do not stay in one place for long. Their entire force had vanished by the time we surfaced. I wish it were not so. They are everything wrong about our species, and removing a few more of them is quite cathartic."
He was immediately unnerved by what sounded like bloodlust from a woman as wise and noble as Alwyn appeared, quickly changing the subject.
"So you take no issue with my choices?"
"No. And I will provide you once again with support from Wynoc and his Wave Serpents."
"You are too kind, Farseer."
"I understand your human mindset, but this is all necessary in the long term, as your kind says."
Roger chuckled and nodded.
"What the hell am I in the grand scheme of things?"
"I will inform Cruniach and the others."
"Wait. I have a question for you."
The farseer stopped and turned back to Roger.
"Will I survive this?"
"Sadly, I can only see the grand plans ahead, not the fates of individuals. I do not say this lightly: I sincerely wish I was capable of such."
He shrugged and followed her back to the glade.
"Where's the fun in knowing what's next?"
"Your optimism is quite dangerous, Roger. It may prove infectious."
"I try."
XXXXXX
"It would not be necessary if it were not important. I am still displeased with it however."
"Well, I still have two of your warriors. They will not be found wanting."
"I doubt they would ever approach anything close to that. We must depart now, I am afraid. I wish I and my fellows could wish you a better farewell, but this must suffice."
Roger bowed his head to Cruniach, who did the same.
"May your blade be sharp and your armor solid."
"And may you and your Rangers stay unseen and strike from nowhere."
The Pathfinder smiled slightly.
"It is very rare to find a decent human, and even rarer to miss ones company, especially on my path. I do hope you survive your next fight, Roger Wessyng."
"And I hope you will join me in combat once again, Cruniach. And the rest of you."
He could recognize some of them, Shae, Alax, but the others were as quiet and mysterious as ever. A few gave waves or nods as goodbyes, and in only a few moments moved and melted into the forest.
"Now we're really done," Roger hissed quietly.
His best asset, able to see far and wide, to warn early, to identify threats before they emerged, was gone. Now all he could rely on was two of them, Scorpions, Avengers, and the other humans in his unit. Would it be enough? He tried to push the thought away and walked back towards what was left of the Leopards. To his slight surprise, the first warriors he encountered was Kallen, Anxo, and Gwyndair.
"Gentlemen. Well, I mean… hell with it."
"Roger. I trust our Ranger brethren have departed?"
"Yes. I will miss them."
"Kallen believes that their absence is unnecessary, and dangerous at best," Gwyndair agreed.
"Our chances of completing this mission and the one after it is drastically reduced," Kallen sighed. "But there is another reason we wish to speak with you."
"Oh?"
"We have a plan that involves you," Anxo said.
"We have determined a set of actions for you and the three of us."
"Oh really?" Roger asked, intrigued for some reason. "And what would that be?"
"We understand your unwillingness to leave, but should the worst happen and you survive, we shall extricate you from the result and evacuate you."
"What of the others in my squad?"
"If we can rescue them, we shall," Anxo responded matter of factly.
"And where do we go from there?"
"We have three serious plans so far," Gwyndair said, "Depending on the resulting response."
"Go on."
"Our first plan is the easiest. We will evacuate you and your comrades to Ducaish. Given your service to the Craftworld, you will be welcomed more than most humans."
"Sure, I'm certain they will, Kallen. And if that doesn't work?"
"We swore to stand by you, so all of us will join a group of Corsairs that we know of, and will go from there. Precedent has been set with Corsair crews including humans."
Roger was about to respond that those humans were traitors and renegades, but suddenly wondered if they knew of Morgyn and her situation. Maybe he would take up her offer after all.
"Very well, Gwyndair. And the last plan?"
Anxo looked to the other two Scorpions, receiving approval to speak.
"Should we face ostracization from Ducaish and you are unwilling to join Corsairs, we will find transport and go to another Craftworld. Some are willing to accept warriors who wish to leave their birthplaces for a myriad of reasons. And the three of us had one in mind."
"And that is?"
"Iybraesil," Kallen said proudly.
"Why that one in particular? Want of warriors? Pedigree?"
"Iybraesil is a matriarchal society, their forces made almost entirely of Howling Banshees. They are dealing with population issues at the moment, worse than what is usual."
"I.. don't follow."
"They are facing a twelve to one female to male ratio."
Roger looked at the three in baffled shock.
"You're kidding. If all else fails, your idea is to drag me and my lads across the galaxy to a far off Craftworld, for no other reason than you are praying that it's so reliant on females that you could take advantage of a ratio like that?"
"Actually, we were hoping for a… what is it in your tongue? A harem?"
"Unbelievable. I thought your species taught restraint, about not indulging in pleasure, and you're hoping for exactly that? If the thought is enough to pierce your war masks, you must be truly lost causes!"
"I would show restraint," Gwyndair said meekly, at least for an Eldari warrior. "I would not take pleasure in having twelve women to myself… but I would not protest."
"Anxo, how did they drag you into this? More specifically him," Roger said, pointing to Kallen.
"Would you refuse such an offer? And it is a worst case scenario."
"And what would I do? Please Kallen, tell me."
"Well, with a ratio like that, and considering that Craftworlds populations run into the hundreds of millions or billions, I do not doubt that at least a few hundred or thousand females of our species would be desperate or intrigued enough to take a human like you as a partner."
"How thoughtful. I'll decline. You can go to Iybraesil without me."
"We will accede to your demands, though it gives us no enjoyment."
Roger shook his head either in disappointment or amusement, and started to move back to his squad. He had no idea that the three had planned around his refusal, and expected to incapactiate and take him, willingly or not, along with them. But such were secret plans. Their unaware target finally reached the six other humans, who despite their differences had gathered around each other, either unfairly feeling threatened by their Xenos comrades, or some sort of forced solidarity.
"Well?" Hawke asked.
"We're down a third of our unit, two Rangers left with us. We have everyone else, but we're not going to have recon like we used to. Either we'll need to pick up the slack, or we're going to have to go on ahead. I don't know which is worse."
"I'm not volunteering," Davie said, the others laughing or smirking at his lack of initiative.
"And thank Throne for that," Parky said.
"Roger?" Bob said, the fact he was willing to speak sending the others into silence.
"Yes Bob?"
"How deep're we in shit?"
Roger took a deep breath and shrugged.
"I won't lie to you all. To the head. Suicide mission followed up by another, with even worse odds of survival. I would have told you what we were up against sooner, but our odds were even worse before, and I was under orders not to. We've been up against worse, but this is pretty bad."
"How bad?"
They had been told about the army moving towards them, the artillery, but never the specifics.
"More than us. But they're pretty similar in style and ability. We're going to put those lasguns to use."
"And my Heavy Bolter as well," Evita added.
"I apologize for not informing you entirely, Evita. It was unfair of me to not let you know what we were up against."
"I would have joined you anyway."
"And I thank you for that. Once Edmund engages, you can either stay with us or join the Bishop, I hear he'll be with him. D'Uxford too, so we'll probably report to him first. If we survive this and complete our mission, of course. I've forced you all to ride along with this lunacy, and I'm sorry for that."
"Like we were going to go anywhere else," Hawke chuckled. "You aren't getting away from us easily."
"Emperor knows we've tried," Davie agreed. "We're with you till it's over, either going home or in the dirt."
Roger gave a sad smile and nodded.
"One last ride, eh?"
"Aye," Bob said, speaking for all of them.
XXXXXX
The suns of Haikk Four had begun to set, and Roger sat alone on the edge of the glade. The Wave Serpents were taking longer than expected to deploy, and the Eldar approval process for explosives was disturbingly familiar to the Munitorums paperwork nightmare. At least he didn't have to deal with it this time, that was Kallen or Moire's problem. Having checked on his squad for the third time, he wanted to be alone for a little bit, stewing in his thoughts. Maybe he was doing it a bit too well. Regrets of all sorts, guilt in some cases, all things he had been pushing to the back of his mind and avoided, but now, facing mortality and a failure of his to command, it was all now coming to the forefront. But he was still attentive enough to hear the rustling of leaves behind him.
"Anya."
"I am losing my touch, it seems. Maybe I should begin seeking another path."
"No, you're just dealing with a human who knows you too well."
"I do appreciate your effort to alay my fears."
Without so much as a whisper, she took a seat next to him, which he seemed to ignore or not notice.
"I can sense you are mentally troubled."
"The Eldari ability to tell the blinding obvious can be quite incredible."
"Amusing, but I am earnest in my concern about your well-being."
"I… buggered it all up. Possibly got myself and my friends killed when we could've run away from all this."
"I thought you were to stand with your comrades? Honor, pride, all those notions that your culture holds dear."
"It's one thing to say it, it's another to actually die for all of it."
Anya placed her hand on top of his.
"I know you all too well that you would merely pretend and look brave. I think you know your duty, and you will do it."
"The other times were different. Sanctuary, hitting the beach when we first arrived here, we didn't know what we were getting into. I did, and instead of warning my men, I stayed quiet and may have gotten them killed."
"I think they would have done the same, no matter what information they had."
"Maybe. But it's my mistake, and the burden of command is on the serjeant."
Anya was silent, having always taken orders, never giving them. Roger sniffed and took a sip from his canteen, offering it to her. She took it, as she did on that fateful day that seemed forever ago, hiding the fact that she was unable to somewhat read his mind, a capability that she owed to her mothers abilities, inherited in minor ways.
"Did your mother say anything? As in, why did she take my Rangers?"
"I was not aware they were your Rangers. I was under the belief they were Ducaish's. She did not inform me what their mission was, however."
"I hope it's important enough to leave us in the dark."
"You have myself and Steryn. Or do you think that is not enough?"
"I didn't say anything."
"You are easy to read, Roger."
He placed his hands on his forehead, falsely believing it would break her focus.
"Stop that. Besides, all we have to do is sneak into a heavily defended part of a massive, thirty thousand man army and blow up a few hundred or thousands of shells, not get caught or taken in the blast wave, evade being captured and killed, and our reward is to be dragged into a massive battle where our odds look as miserable as the fight before it. My father would be disappointed at how stupid I am for thinking any of this would work. Probably my mother too. What do you think I should do?"
"I think you should cease criticizing yourself so brutally. Command is not an easy position, despite what your underlings would think. My mother would never show it, but she has grieved for those lost under her orders, especially the ones who knew what was expected of them. I remember my father telling me of a human saying he learned. He always enjoyed it, said it was the only wisdom you Mon-Keighs ever created that was worth any beings time. "Cowards die many times before their deaths," I believe. The other part of that quote is-"
"The valiant never taste of death but once. It's not a piece of wisdom, it's words from a play, from the lands my ancestors came from, so famous that even after all the knowledge that's been lost and censored, it's still well known. Do you know what happens to the character who says that?"
"No, I am afraid I do not."
"He gets surrounded and stabbed to death by his former friends because they're terrified of his power."
"I… was not aware of the context."
"It is a good quote though. And you are right. I'd rather die on my feet than stand by."
"You have previously said as much. Why this reversal?"
"Command is half leading, the other half lying to yourself and everyone else you know what you're doing. I put up a good façade, don't I?"
She moved a bit closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.
"I think you underestimate your abilities. Not many humans can say they have led Eldari, and given your human comrades, I see that you were experienced in the art of commanding difficult individuals."
"I suppose."
He wrapped his arm around her and tried to figure out his thoughts, seemingly more and more impossible with every passing moment.
"If I do survive all this, I think we should continue our relationship. If I don't-"
"Please, do not speak or think of such things. It pains me to do so."
"Very well."
The two sat there for a little while, then Roger kissed her on the side of her head, getting some of her hair in his mouth by accident. She hid her amusement as he tried to hide that.
"Whatever happens next, we're just going to have to deal with it."
"I can accept that. For now."
The Wave Serpents would not arrive for a little while longer. So she would enjoy what little time they would now have together.
XXXXXX
"Quite the force," Kallen said politely, looking through the viewfinder.
Not that he needed it. The dust cloud the massive army of Emir Sal-Hadin left in its wake was visible for miles, leaving little to the imagination, and more to the despair of whoever was going against them. They had arrived earlier in the day, finding a good middle ground to hide and watch.
"It is not the most impressive I have seen," Steryn remarked, looking through the scope on her Longrifle. "I once assassinated an Imperial Guard general at a victory parade in an early time on my path. No, he was a member of the Astra Militarum. A different office, I believe."
"They're the same thing. I don't know why. You must have done a good job."
"I was worried you would take offense."
"He probably deserved it. Most commanders in the Guard are violent morons with gold lace."
"He made the mistake of attacking an Exodite colony that was allied to Ducaish," Moire said. "I was unaware you did the deed, Steryn."
"Focus people. Eldar. Whatever. Do you see the artillery?"
The four scanned the horizon, looking for the distinctive shape of artillery pieces. Roger looked towards the front, the middle, and the rear, but all he could see was endless lines of infantry. There were some on horseback, meaning Edmund would now have to face cavalry as well. His mood sank again, and he was about to lower the binoculars to rub his eyes when he saw twenty or so shapes, nearly identical.
"There! Towards the end. Confirm."
The three looked to where he pointed.
"I prefer to see them up close from experience," Moire said.
"Very easy to eliminate the crews," the Scorpion said with a grin.
"Or from afar. That armor only works so well," Steryn finished.
"Looks like trucks as well. That's the rounds in the back. Hot damn. Full deck."
"We could order the Wave Serpents to charge in and attack. Why take the risk and individually place explosives?"
"I want to be sure. And there's only so much those guns on the Serpents can do."
"Your mortality," Kallen said flatly.
Roger scoffed at the remark and looked behind the army, barely able to see behind the storm of dust. But then he saw an opening.
"Normally I wouldn't like the look of those clouds, but I think we found a way that won't get noticed."
The three Eldar looked to the sky, Moire shuddering slightly. Since landing on Haikk Four, the forces of man and Asuryani alike had come to dread the vicious storms that wreaked havoc across Mekkar. Rain coming down in sheets, lighting so fierce it seemed as if the planet itself was about to crack. But to the poor sentries that would be posted that night, it would mean miserable, long hours where their focus would be dulled, and more importantly, they would be slacking.
"I'll ask to get a forecast for tonight. Did you all know that Guard armor is standardized?"
"What does that have to do with us?" Steryn asked.
"Hard to point out a foreign Guardsman when they all wear the same thing."
"I see. What about the rest of the Leopards?"
"I was thinking of taking Helene, the two of us will sneak in. I got the aura of a commander, and she can talk the talk with artillerymen. Hawke and Davie will be nearby in case things go wrong. Kallen, Moire, I want you to get about three or four of your warriors for over watch and ambush, maybe help the two of us in placing explosives. Steryn, you or Anya can come along and watch over things if you want. The others will stay with the Serpents."
"No combat for the Sister?"
"Moire, I thought you would have figured out by now that she is anything but stealthy. Besides, we need to be mobile and ready to get the hell away at a moment's notice. I am hoping that we won't have to get involved in any fighting, but luck has been my enemy these last few days."
"Bob will not be involved?"
"Old man's joints ache terribly when it rains. He's had enough action in his life. Doesn't need any more if he can avoid it."
"It would be a shame to throw him into danger. He is my favorite of your group," Moire said.
"Yeah, because he barely speaks."
He looked through the binoculars again, watching it snake past them. In a day or two, it would be facing him head on, and he didn't look forward to it. He lowered the device and stared out across the plains. He was surprised that there were no outriders or scouts maintaining a picket around the army, but considering most of the population had long since fled or joined that very army ahead and no force was as large or dangerous, they most likely had little to fear. The sun was beating down on him, but his kettle helmet was shading his head, and the breeze was cool enough that he wasn't starting to sweat. It was one of those times where even the slightest brush of wind on ones face would make a slightly too warm day absolutely perfect. He was about to raise the binoculars again when Steryn coughed slightly.
"Could you stay like that for a moment more?"
"What?"
"Just stay standing like that. Do not move."
"Is there something wrong?"
"Humor me."
Roger shrugged and stared back at the enemy. But instead of just the wind whistling across the plains, he heard something similar to scribbling from Steryns direction. He moved his head slightly and discovered that she was writing. Putting two and two together, he realized she was drawing. Not just drawing, but drawing him.
"I wasn't aware I had an artistically pleasant face."
"Warriors in moments of calm before the storm are a favorite genre of mine. You have given me inspiration."
"If we survive this, you'll get a battle to draw as well."
"I have always wondered how your homeworld fights their battles. I am sure I will find it quite inspiring."
"You'll probably do better than most of the official artists the Imperium provides."
"Only a moment or two more, please."
Roger sighed and tried to think of something more pleasant than the nightmare ahead of him. He thought of Anglerre. Peaceful. Rolling green hills, villages filled with hard working, polite people. Castles ruled by knights, who protected the populace. Vibrant farms, fields overgrown with crops, inns flowing with ale and cider. He grieved that he would not see it again, but he had not seen it in nearly seven years. Or more, he was never sure. And every time he tried to figure out the complexities of the Imperial Calendar, it made even his head hurt, and he was no moron. Well, he was on a suicide mission, accepted Xenos, and had been brought before an Inquisitor, so maybe he wasn't as smart as he though he was.
"There."
He turned back to Steryn, who made the final flourishes on a surprisingly large sketchpad.
"Have you always carried that around?"
"I do not understand how any of Asuryans children believed that you should follow the Path of Grief," Kallen said, looking over her shoulder to see the finished work.
She turned the pad around and showed it to Roger.
"Well I'll be."
It was, unsurprisingly for an Eldar, perfect.
"It looks almost like a pict."
"Almost?"
"Well, you can tell that there are a few lines off, and maybe a mistake or two."
"I was not aware you were an art critic."
"I'm not, and I didn't mean-"
"No, that is exactly what I wanted to hear. Far too many on the Path of the Artisan make perfect copies of what they see, like the picts you speak of. I intentionally made some mistakes to avoid it being realistic to the point of distress, when it is too perfect to be enjoyed."
She pulled the finished work off the pad and handed it to him. Looking it over, his face was creased with the lines of age, or stress he hoped, half of it hidden in the shade of his slightly dented kettle helm. He definitely looked like the Guardsman he hoped to be: weary, tired, but vigilant all the same.
"Thank you Steryn. Hopefully you'll get a few more done by the time you get back to Ducaish."
She took it back and folded it carefully before handing it back to him.
"Hold onto it please."
He put it in a chest pocket and nodded.
"Right, if everybody's ready, we'll move back to the Serpents and follow those bastards. They'll probably get another ten or so miles judging by the time. Twenty a day at best. And we're going to have a long night."
As the others agreed and started moving back, he looked to the army one more time. He then looked at the blue sky trying to eek out of the dust and away from the dark storm clouds.
He hoped he would see it again tomorrow.
