Seven Victories

Victory 1: Thur'Abis plateau.

At the edge of the ancient basalt block that rose from the middle of the continent, a narrow defile was filled with boulders and pools of water, leaking from underground sources into the shade of the giant crack. One who looked down into the crevasse might, for a brief instant before his head was split open by an Eldar Longrifle see a Harlequin dancing from boulder to boulder, cup in left hand and a bottle in the right. Humming a tune that was just one movement in the grand cycle of the struggle against the Yngir, she skipped, somersaulted, and otherwise moved in ways impossible for a human across the rocky and steep slope. If you had a very good eye, you might even notice the lack of a flip belt adorning this particular Harlequin. As she moved she spilled not drop from her open bottle, sliding over the top of a Falcon parked in the shadow of a melted hulk of black metal before rebounding from one last rock to land softly beside a small pool.

Farseer Taldeer of Ulthwe was here, peering into the water. She had eschewed her armor for the time being, choosing instead to don robes for her meditations. She did not look up from the water cupped in her hands when the Harlequin touched the ground, but instead kept her focus glued on the liquid cupped in her palms and her reflection there. Her warlocks clustered around her like chicks around a hen, but they gave way for the tiny harlequin. Most of them bowed as they did so, but a few of them were unable to unbend from their guard enough to even do that. They feared that the enemy yet might stir from the anthill that they had so recently vacated. The Harlequin had no such fear. She was here to celebrate.

“Well met child of Isha. By your acts this day, the Yngir will fear us once again. Will you join me in the celebrations with this small death?” Typical metaphor and legend laden speech that wouldn't mean a thing to a human. Taldeer however grasped its meaning without thought, and without turning responded.

“Why should I celebrate? We have work yet undone, and the vision has not changed. From this planet shall emerge the doom of many of our kin, great and terrible. Give me one reason why I should drink with you, when so many souls have passed on this day.” Several of the soulstones Taldeer wore on her person pulsed with these words, signaling their dissent or concurrence.

The nameless Harlequin pouted. “You are as dour as Khaine, Farseer. Are you certain that your name is not Mugen Ra? All this talk of your vision and work is tiresome.” her features shifted into a wide predatory grin. “We are victorious Farseer. And we will be victorious again and again. The Mon-Keigh can no more stop us than they can stop the wind from blowing where it will.”

Taldeer laughed lightly, bitterly and let the water fall from her hands as she turned to face her companion. “Do not count on that Harlequin. They may not be able to catch the wind, but swift and agile will not win all our victories here. I fear that we must be as the ocean instead of the wind. And you still have not given me a reason”

“As you say Farseer. Your reason, at your request.” The Harlequin sat, and poured clear liquor from the bottle. “It is a simple one, like most good reasons.” She offered the cup, half full of the slightly fruity smelling beverage as she spoke plainly. “We are alive Farseer. Not one day ago we fled before the distort bomb you yourself laid in that horrid tomb, and we are alive to drink to the memory of those who died. And before you use them as an excuse not to drink, remember that they died so that we could walk under the sky again.”

Taldeer stared at the cup for a long moment, then took it in her hands and raised it to her lips. “For the living.”

It was sweet.