Shadow Seer Tar Raggan pulled on the silvery, sparkling threads that represented lines of probability in the real world. The colors danced on his blank mask, reflecting births of chaos spawns and deaths of whole worlds. Beneath a jumbled vision of chaos and insanity, the Seer remained serene and motionless. The lights leapt across the face of Grimlock, who's gaze seemed as penetrating as the mask of death he wore during the dance of battle. The Great Avatar Sarsippius watched intently as the Seer searched for the probability line that held the destruction of the Eldar.
Tar Raggan snapped his hand out and grabbed an invisible thread, halting the flashing patterns and leaving only a dull, green glow on the shapeless mask. As Sarsippius and the Death Jester watched, the form coalesced into a living pulsing life form. Grimlock broke the silence, cutting through the incense with a speech that sounded as if it was rehearsed for centuries.
"So this is the life force that will be the destroyer of worlds, the anguish of the Eldar and the scourge of the Laughing God. This energy at the beginning of it's life-path is soon to be crushed like a seashell by the might of the ocean." Grimlock nearly grinned, and glared at the twisting form in Tar Raggan's outstretched hand. As if in response to words, it began to brighten and dance violently. Tar Raggan closed his hand around it, and the image vanished, leaving the shrine dark and silent.
Sarsippius smiled and arose as eloquently as if he had been standing the entire time. Grimlock followed, and the two strode out of the shrine into the cold light. Unmoving, Tar Raggan traced another mark across the floor, watching the blue flame that outlined another probability line as Grimlock and Sarsippius began preparing for the dance.
Ar'hahn traced the evolution of Slann in the red dirt of Gahr with a stick. The tribe watched, silent and still as the earth. The symbol they had seen, but never known it's meaning. As long as anyone can remember, Ar'hahn had been the shaman of the tribe. He brought them shelter, he brought them food, he protected them from the monsters that walked the land and the Gods that fell from the sky. Ar'hahn also trained them and taught them how to live as if they were an extension of the land. Ar'hahn weaved magic from the God who's name they were not to know, and tonight it was told this was the last night his magic was to be seen within the tribe. The warriors watched intently, almost understanding the great importance of this event.
Ar'hahn scattered yellowed finger bones at the bottom of the symbol. A dusty wind began to rise, as if from Gahr itself. "My time has come to pass from this life." Ar'hahn spoke with an age that was unmatched by any mortal. He had led the ancestors of these ignorant Slann across galaxies, brought them struggling through warpstorms, knowing that in his premature death, the death of the oldest race would ensue. But on this evening, Ar'hahn had invited his death, because he knew that in his death the entire race of the Ha'ar Slann could be reborn to the greatness it would become.
"I have led this tribe for more lifespans than many of you can trace. It is now the time of the Ha'ar Slann." The bones caught fire, and some braves jumped back, but Ar'hahn continued unwavered. "Slann pass through a constant cycle of life, death and rebirth. I am the last of the Old Slann, and I have survived to give life to you. It is time that this tribe is reborn." In the hills, the sound of dry thunder could be heard, as Ar'hahn continued, quieter.
"This tribe is the last remaining tribe of the ancient Slann. Our numbers were once many, but the expanses of Ork, Tyranid, Eldar and Man have but wiped us out. What the humans call The Age of Colonization was a dark time for Slann, but that dark time has since ended. Now the Slann are reborn into the light, and your God will come from the sky to lead you.
"The God I have worshipped is Bah'n Anubi, the Last God, the ruler over all time. But this is not the God meant for you. The power of Anubi wanes to non-existence even as I speak. The God who will bring the Slann from near extinction is Abuh'r Derok." Ar'hahn placed his ornate knife over the top of the symbol and continued. "While I may be at the end of my lifepath, you are merely at the beginning of yours. I have forseen and welcomed an event that will mark this tribe with greatness. You will be visited by Abuh'r Derok, the Great God of Slann," Ar'hahn paused, as if struggling with an unseen force. "Tonight." He finished, and shut his eyes tightly, entering a trance. The tribe began to feel the energy coarse through their bodies as they watched the bones of fire spread across the image the shaman had traced. Not one of the tribesmen moved. Finally, after what could have been hours, Ar'hahn opened his eyes again and spoke.
"It is time. Your ancestors have brought you life so that you may live this one instant only. Prepare yourselves for war." A cry with the energy of a thousand worlds filled the valley, and barely a hundred proud warriors prepared for the last fight.
The sparkling dropship took them down to the planet silently. The gaily colored figures poured out of the smooth craft like water from a fountain before it took off silently to wait in orbit. Sarsippius looked at his cast and smiled. A performance to tribute the Laughing God, Tar Raggan thought. The ending of one life to further the days of the great race. It was almost humorous. Sarsippius struck a pose and traced his foot in the sand, then looked out over frightening masks of his troupe, and the blank mask of their Shadow Seer.
They had followed Tar Raggan to this dead world. He had wondered how the path was so clear. It was almost as if they were being drawn there by this life force, rather than choosing to alter this lifeline. But now they were here he had felt so terribly alone, so insignificant and minor compared to what they were about to face. Tar Raggan had seen the destiny of every member in the troupe, and they all lead to this. Now he must prepare himself for any consequences.
All eyes focused on Tar Raggan as he erupted in a blur of color, waving his force sword about his head in arcs of warp energy and raw light. He stopped abruptly but fluently, and the cloud of movement coalesced into the empowering image of his frozen body. The only sign of life coming from his blank mask, across which now danced the many faces of death. There was a howl as every trouper exploded into color, as the dance of war had begun.
The shrieking began as Grimlock rained death over the mud huts, the shurikens shattering the buildings as if they were crystal. A volley of arrows sprang from a nearby forest clearing, and Grimlock responded by leaping, twirling, through the air to land on another tree limb, firing all the time. The lone survivor let loose with another arrow, and Grimlock grinned beneath his death mask as it dissolved into light mere inches before his face. Raising his reaper, he sowed the remaining Slann with a scream.
Grimlock lifted his weapon and watched like an owl as the troupers bounded into town like great glowing tumbleweeds, reaching out and cutting down any Slann that ventured too close. Sarsippius thrust his Harlequin's Kiss into a wall and laughed as the building crumbled into powder, along with it's inhabitants. As he paused to marvel at the glory of battle, he watched some of the curious creatures attack the first troupe with glowing axes. To his slight amusement, one of them brought both axes on an unsuspecting Trouper's back, enveloping the Harlequin in blue plasma. Sarsippius raised his shuriken pistol and caressed the trigger, separating the Slann's head from it's slithering body.
Tar Raggan saw the bonfire over the hill and felt the enticing tug of a psychic mind. Leaping behind every dry bush silently, he carved a bloody path through the village. In the dim light, he was all but invisible. Ar'hahn watched him make his way up the hill into the light of the fire. There Tar Raggan stopped, watching the old form, shrouded in feathers and beads, wave it's hands over the fire. The Seer was about to move to strike down the creature, when it spoke in his native Eldar.
"I have watched you come, Tar Raggan of Ulthw‚, I have ordered it." The Shadow Seer shuddered and withdrew slightly at this mention of his original craftworld. "I have watched you trace our life path to yours. You may even say, I pulled this probability line and brought you to me." Tar Raggan stood silent, still observing and matching this powerful psychic being before him.
"You are but a young race, Ha'ar Eldar. You live on a delicate path of such amazing insignificance. What one Eldar experiences in a lifetime is experienced by every single entity of Ha'ar Slann in a thousand lifetimes. As individuals, we experience not a mere life path as you Eldar. Our race follows another path, evolving continually, conquering, surviving, prospering and finally dying only to be reborn again. This cycle of life surpasses even your interpretation of time."
As Ar'hahn finished speaking, lines of light traced from the fire into the night sky. Tar Raggan gazed upwards in awe as he witnessed the lifepaths of infinite souls all coalescing into one. "I had deceived you. You are not witnessing the birth of a life force that will destroy the Eldar." Tar Raggan turned back and looked at the hunched form on the throne. "You are witnessing a rebirth of a race that is older than the universe itself. Older than your young Gods, older than your path, older than your magic. You are witnessing a force older than Chaos itself." Tar Raggan slackened his grip on his sword, slowly becoming aware of what he ultimately was destined to do. Dread and despair tore through him like a poison. The Slann closed his eyes, as if resting, and spoke one last time.
"I am Ar'hahn, last of the Great Slann. In my life, I have given everything possible to the survival of Slann. The only thing I have left to give is my death." Tar Raggan turned and raised his sword in one fluid motion, absorbing warp energy from the air around him. He struck out with a force that would have slain a hundred men. Ar'hahn was enveloped in a thick, green cloud and was no more. The entire history of Slann flooded into Tar Raggan's mind, and for a moment, Tar Raggan's lips crossed into a smile. The bonfire burned fiercely, and then extinguished itself. The wind caught the ashes, tossing them into the sky and giving birth to Abuh'r Derok. The God rose to his full height, towering over the sinewy Harlequin, and gave life to the shattered Slann. The race was reborn, their time for greatness was soon. Tar Raggan broke his silence and laughed before the God of Gods tore him asunder and stained the sands of Gahr with the blood of a dozen Eldar.