Level 18 - High Lord Scribe of Mastered Illuminations
Once one of their number, the eternal outcast wishes to take from the Elves what they hold dearest - their dreams, their past, their future.
An evil that nurtures evil, a dark mother that is cradle to shadow.
The blast of charged particles tore into one of the entrenched tanks, then from the 'Mech's other barrel-arm into its mate emerging from behind a corner.
Commander Ratzelle had to admit - letting the rookie ride in the Warhammer was not such a bad choice after all; indeed was he a crack shot.
'Ha! There it goes, blown into pieces! We'll never see their sorry asses again!'
'I wouldn't be so sure about that, greenhorn' the lance leader replied. 'Get ready for clean-up! We have to root them out by nightfall!'