>>5805931Flickers of the past unfurled before his eyes from the psychic traces left behind... A Scaled Spearman dancing with a Banshee the shrieking fury unable to touch the Spearman whom danced much like she, ducking and weaving between the swinging swords but his reach allowing him to again and again strike her with the Spear's blunt. Another battled a Scorpion and while clearly having much more trouble showcased a unique peace of curious tech? It seemed they'd rigged small antigrav fields to themselves which not only allowed them to literally swim through the air (though not quite achieve flight he noted) but also simply absorb impacts by slowly drifting back or spinning as if in water; he chuckled when a spear man dodged a Dire Avenger's blade only to land on the end of his own spear and look down upon his foe almost playfully. It was clear from their way of war they would never be full line combat units but would make exceptional honour guards or decapitation strike forces.
He left the past and returned to the present watching the handful of these new warriors spar among themselves and he felt a small sliver of concern; first came the Journey and now upon it a new path of war. They had rangers a plenty among their ranks, more and more warlocks...now fighters.
He was about to leave when a specific individual caught his eye; a youth whom as he recalled had at long last returned to the Craftworld having walked among the dread Corsairs for some time before suddenly returning? This man was clearly the leader of this new temple of war, but when he looked upon the notched rope bound around his arm he saw something that brought a cold sweat to him.
This warrior had been a raider and pirate pillaging and killing but when he slew a journeyman he came into possession of the lore...and when he read it...he was subsumed by it, he slew his former comrades, hung them from the mat of their craft which he set alight... he remembered how many other humans Lieren had slain and so a shadowed mirror.
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