The Smiling Hunter

[The Unseen]

Just a bit of a random scene that my brain decided to play instead of letting me get to sleep, and decided I'd see if writing it out would let me sleep.

 

The sounds and smells of war receded from the forefront of his thoughts as he finally caught sight of his prey. Impossibly lithe, clad in ridged armor so black it seemed more an absolute void than a color, the Eldar warhost’s leader directed his foul kin with whispered commands that carried over even the cacophony of battle, not deigning to engage in combat himself. His aura of arrogance was palpable, it smelled like soured wine. All the while, the engrammed information in the recesses of his altered mind played out like a pre-mission war-cant. Xenos; Designation Archon, Priority; Alpha, Threat-Level; Alpha Extremis, Recommended Tactic; Engage at extreme range with high yield anti-infantry bombardment weapons  Kill-Confirmation; Eyes On Only.

 

His fangs bared, the grey clad champion barreled through a momentary opening through a squad of Eldar warriors, cut down by a volley of bolter fire from Hafnir’s pack. He would have to thank the grizzled hunter himself later. One Eldar noticed him, and attempted to block his path. He contemptuously dodged the simple slash of the frost-blade as the wolf attempted to cut him down. The Eldar had but a brief moment to realize his mistake as he stared down the barrel of a bolt pistol that seemed to appear out of thin air behind his shield arm. With a bounding leap over the Eldar’s headless corpse still falling behind him, he landed scant metres from his target. The Archon sneered, and stepped behind a pair of advancing bodyguards, one to his left, and one to his right, in a classic flank. More knowledge flowed: Xenos; Designation Archon bodyguards, Incubi, Priority; Ceta, Threat-Level; Beta, Recommended Tactic; Engage at range with high-yield anti-infantry weaponry. Target equipped with Xenos Power Blades of unknown pattern, designated Klaives,  Kill-Confirmation; Not Required. The wolf just smiled.

 

A flurry of frost-forged steel and night-black Xenos blades followed, too fast for even an Astartes eye’s to truly track. The Xenos were clearly well practiced together, their movements far more cooperative than others of their kin, their blades a blur of motion. The Xenos warriors moved in for what they thought was the killing blow, the wolf’s blade and shield seemingly far out of position. And truly, they were out of position, if the wolf had been fighting a single opponent. He ducked at the last moment, his left shield arm blocking a blow that would have decapitated him from the right, while his sword’s guard caught a left feint that was never meant to land. A twist, and a further rotation, and the left Eldar warrior was staring at his hands still holding his weapon hit the ground, along with his spilling lifeblood. The right warrior attempted to take advantage of the momentary opening in the wolf’s guard by making the killing blow, and instead caught an unexpected kick, a move that rightly should’ve been impossible from a warrior in power amor. The force of the blow couldn’t crack the warrior’s plate armor, but it was more than enough to break his spine. The wolf straightened, and re-located his true target, the Archon. Watching his bodyguards fall, the Eldar merely smirked, and drew his own blade.

 

The wolf sprang forward, his guard impenetrable, his blow unavoidable. The Eldar leaders smirk grew wider, and proved both ideas false. He managed to avert the second return stroke on his shield, and its power field shrieked where the Xenos blade touched it. The wolf realized he was simply outclassed, and disengaged, his breathing ragged from a long, deep cut under his shield, a lung punctured, nearly severed in fact. He could feel his body knitting itself back together, but not nearly fast enough.

 

The Eldar attacked, and for the first time in decades the wolf was no longer the hunter, but the hunted. His mind raced for a solution, a strategy, anything that would, might, help him against a foe that moved more like a ghost than a living thing. He realized that the Eldar was merely toying with him, with every pass the Eldar made, another long, shallow cut appeared in his flesh, and that damnable smirk grew wider, extending the duel and turning it into a torture for his amusement. With a grimace, the wolf made what seemed a final, futile strike, slowed by injury and despondence; the Eldar laughed cruelly and went for the deathblow, a stab through the heart and right lung. The wolf merely smiled as the blade entered his flesh, and dropped his sword. The Archon attempted to pull away, thinking his foe finished, and realized what grave error he had made. The wolf had ahold of his sword arm, and was pinning it in place, straight through his own heart. The wolf’s fanged smile grew wider as he pulled the Eldar in close, and said, “I have two, you know”.

[Servant of Dante]

Fun!

 

But I have to admit that I was rooting for the Dark Eldar guy (Heresy!).