Chapter 47:

Chapter 47: Deals and Misunderstandings and how to fix them.



The gods are kind, the gods are loving, the gods are demanding, the gods have not been made by Eldar.

What the gods call kindness and love is not what the Eldar have ever willingly called such, but we managed to tame the Weapons' Systems the Old Ones insisted we call gods and it was done so by the work of priests, for the Old Ones had entirely different definitions of love and kindness than Eldar for they were not us.

For them the warmth of Love represented the scorching sun that killed the weak, humbled the strong and forced you to adapt and molded you and their kindness was the endless strife that broke the weak and showed who was the strongest and it was so because their souls were that of Swords.

Small Singing Swords they called us once they finished reforging us when we came to them for safety from the advancing Necron armies that burned our worlds and from which they offered the chance at survival.

Our souls were fashioned in the shape of a sword, our bodies reforged to serve as one of their swords but our souls were not that of Swords, but of artists. Our birthright is art, it has always been art, it has always been to create stories and share emotions and we were never meant for war, even as the galaxy was never peaceful. We had found a niche for ourselves, not as warriors but as entertainers.

By our stories, thousands of Empires talked with one another, our plays were the meeting spots of diplomacy and we created propaganda and art and songs to celebrate both wars and alliances and even marriages. Our artists were found in every court and even the Old Ones would sometimes ask for our services to entertain them, for they loved our creativity and talent at retelling stories and helping others reenact them.

When the necrons and the C'tan came, it was not the weapon souls that survived, for with the exception of the Old Ones they died first. It was not the Endless Swarms with their numbers that won wars, they were the easiest to deal with. It wasn't the changelings which could shift from one role to another as needed, for they were priority targets.

The ones that survived the Early Stages of the War in Heaven were the cowards and those that could run and us. We were neutral in any war and when it started we stood out of it for a simple reason. It wasn't the first time a xenocidal regime came around.

We sold our services to them too and we would sing and praise their deeds in their courts and make monuments and art pieces to them until they either settled down or the Old Ones decided that they had enough of their Nonsense and laid down the Law.

It was for the First time that someone refused our services that was capable of understanding art, for there was no art form we could not and still can't master if we are made aware of it or have someone show us of it.

When that happened the deaths were quick and half of our people died before the rest realized it. The others were given a choice by the Old Ones, or the Ancients as we called them at the time, accept to be turned into imperfect weapons or be abandoned as useless for the tasks ahead.

We and the other species that accepted died screaming in their forges as we lost our original shapes and were turned into the Gods which then proceeded to split shards of their soul back into specially crafted Clone bodies.

Each of us was imperfect, each of us had flaws for we were materials that were sub-par to what was needed and those that would have been more useful were dead and once the War in Heaven reached its final stages we were little better than orks and I truly mean Orks and not Krorks for they were worse.

We learned to be civilized again for a simple reason, we started to sing again as we once did and from our song civilization sprung again away from the sight of the Old Ones and the Divine. The Old Ones noticed and called us Small Singing Blades for it and said that it is our birthright to sing.

It was the closest those monsters ever came to kindness as we understood it and I am of the opinion they were just disappointed, but many disagree.

We salvaged the remnants of the other small blades as our Gods devoured theirs and Gorkamorka was close to birth and as they were busy we started to try and find a way to trick the gods, for we could not trick the Old Ones ,for they knew of our plans and did not care for them as long as we served.

Our idea of civilization started from trickery, for we had to trick our own gods to have it and the first priest was the first lunatic that managed to lie to the Divine to their face and got away with it.

It was a priest of Khaine and he understood our struggle the most and it is why every single priest that does not understand how and does not understand why Khaine is kind by our own definition is not considered a true priest by any religious order and we call them Pretenders.

Once the War in Heaven ended and the Vassals War concluded we started our long and arduous taming process of our own Divine where we used the directives and allowances the Old Ones left us. What allowance that might be?

They called us Singing Blades and singing was a form of art and art is sharing your own emotions to get one to act or think a certain way and we did that to our gods and to each other to stop culling the galaxy of life and be able to rest and think for ourselves.

This is what our civilization started from, it is the only allowance for individuality we had and it is what we used to turn weapons systems into something that could pretend to civilization and we managed to do so, to all but one of the Divine and that divine was Hoeth.

Hoeth meant the Removal of Ignorance and he sought Truth and remembered Truth and the Truth was simple. The Great Wheel is not a peaceful place, it is a conflict of species and this galaxy is one of Endless War and Carnage and Despair and one must find a way to survive in it.

We were lucky Hoeth did not care for us, for the Old Ones made him to care only for outside threats and as the Eldar desires for spiritual autonomy were an inside threat he could not be bothered to notice it and even as it spread and the Divine were shackled by stories and ritual and mellowed out from engines of extermination into something one could pretend resembled people, our foreign policy remained the same.

All species were told to behave once when they erred. If they did not, they were put in time out, if they didn't they woupld be made to beg for death, if they survived it then it was War they would have and Hoeth started plotting their demise as the other Divine started shedding their 'affable' personas and each time it happened it took us too much time to reign them in again. Nobody could reign Hoeth in, but yet his priesthood formed regardless, and it formed due to a very simple reason.

Hoeth did not care for our trickery, we had to trick others to get him to notice and this is why all of his priests are Diplomats specialized in dealing with other species. All of us prefer dealing with anything and anyone that is not Eldar and we are incredibly uncomfortable among our own people. The Followers of Hoeth served to trick our god too as we found out how, as it wasn't by our actions alone, and the only way how we could do so was simple, Proactivity.

If Hoeth believed the threats were being kept low, then it would enter a more passive mode where it would merely document things for further study and seek to cultivate assets or repurpose discarded ones for a given purpose. It is how he started building his White Towers where he would accept the most gifted of individuals to teach them and the Orphans to see if maybe they could be made useful.

This Proactivity is the guiding principle of the Followers of Hoeth and what allowed us to pretend that Hoeth is tamed and as we believed it he acted like it. It is Proactivity that allowed civilizations to rise and what kept the Oldest War Engine left of the Old Ones from culling all life every now and then.

We have not been Proactive in far too long, merely reactive as we tried to handle whatever issues threatened to plague us. The latest ones are Boredom and Slaanesh and the Insomnia they cause to the Followers of Hoeth and Gork and Mork and their Adoption of Humanity. Nothing else is pressing us for our attention for now or in the near future.

Boredom is enemy action from Unreality and while we handled its makers, its effects are still felt as it created a new disease among us.

We also can't sleep, because there are daemons everywhere that only we can sense, for they are an external threat to our people and we are meant to, but they are kept hidden from the rest of us by ritual. We have no more bases to regroup in, for we cannot use those of others as we will not be protected by their rituals and if they start killing them too early Slaanesh will be born too early and we still haven't properly finishing up our preparations for her death even as we die as our bodies give up on life from lack of sleep.

The vast majority of our early life is meant to be spent learning how to prolong the period we can survive without sleep indefinitely but my siblings and I decided to take a gamble and hope that that which I made would allow us sleep.

Even without Ulthuan's gift, we had gotten a breakthrough. One day of sleep a month for one individual in groups of 4 was three orders of magnitude more common than the best case scenarios we suffered from. The normal sleeping habits of our order was one day of sleep every five to twelve centuries, but we decided to try and hope that we could change that as I came up with an idea, a simple one at that.

Eldar can't spot daemons and if we can spot them we can't attack them so let's see if we can make something that can spot them and attack them for it that is not us and it is how I made my Swords of Valor and my other gun-swords I and my siblings spent more and more of our lives trying to make them work and prayed we would succeed in our gambits and each and every single one of them paid off and then lucky happenstances and the plots of our other siblings exacerbated our successes until we found ourselves here.

This is the first private show the Followers of Hoeth had managed to craft for Royalty in 90,000 years and we can't use it to only recap my life.

We need to decide on important goals and select and refine plans because I'm scared that if we don't keep to proper rituals Cegorach will start thinking like Hoeth during the War in Heaven again and nobody wants that.

"Well brother I can start with a topic you will probably appreciate, our alliance with the Anathema of Mankind." One of my brothers said after a few heartbeats of thought and hand gestures to each other.

We do not use our names when speaking with one another. They introduced themselves to my queen then she forgot, for each had asked her to do so for their safety and she agreed and did not even notice it.

I was also happy at least somebody was doing our old job, for the Followers of Hoeth are diplomats, lorekeepers and Administrators of Learning Centers and Orphanages by trade when ritual is maintained. We are meant to keep Hoeth happy and content and merely analyzing threats by interacting with other species, keeping them happy and friendly with us or killing them off before they become a threat.

There's exactly 16 Followers of Hoeth left excluding Cegorach, and we are the grand totality of the Eldar External Diplomatic Corps left as we have given our other duties to other organizations. The Eldar External Diplomatic Corps are composed of 16 sleep deprived Priests of Apocalypse that are more Corpse than Eldar and are one mistake or falling asleep away from death.

"Tell me brother, have my old people from this Dimension agreed to our deal?" I asked him.

We really need this deal with humanity to work, if we can have a diplomatic resolution to humanity's adoption by Gork and Mork we deal with a looming threat.

"Yes, or at least we believe so. Access to the Webway and an abandoned Flame of Asuryan, resources for their plans near their homeworld and a generally not hostile disposition from Cegorach as well as some help with specific threats we can trick craftworlders into were given to them in exchange for not cleansing the galaxy of specific species and for taking stewardship of the Galaxy for enough time while we deal with Slaanesh and then enacting the Anathema's plan of Metamorphosis of his species from a gun species to an Anathemic one." He replied.

I did not like the uncertainty, if they did it right there wouldn't be any, but I'll see the treaty before casting Judgment.

I kissed my wife again as she coiled around me slightly once again and relaxed. I needed some love to recover more still.

"That is worrying to hear brother. May I see a copy of the treaty in both human and Eldar script? There might be some misunderstandings in it that we can clear up." I asked once my kiss with my wife ended.

"Treaty? We thought a verbal understanding was a sign of trust and going through minutia a sign that we wished to screw them over so we did not bother with that." He continued

"FUCKING DAMNIT!"

That explains Warhammer 40k and 30k at least, our diplomatic corps are too rusty and tired from dealing with Slaanesh to do their jobs properly in M30, and we're all dead by M40. Thankfully I can change that once I stop bashing my head to the table due to having to deal with this nonsense.

~~~~~~~~~~~

My husband did not speak those words in any Eldar or Siren tongue, he spoke them in a human one and in song.

Human languages have their words filled with meanings that changes with context yet remembers all that it could be but isn't if that phrase was anything to go about.

Copulation, damnation, messing things up, anger, recrimination, informing others they messed up, fault. All of that was just what those two words expressed or remembered but did not say and there was some hidden meaning beyond them.

The man who entered the door like the madman he is and talked about deals I knew nothing about was the only other individual with his eyes open and he looked worried as my husband started smashing his head on the table repeatedly and I looked at it confused. The rest continued to keep their close as they pretended to sleep in various positions.

Some stood with their heads on the table, others layed down o ntheir very large cushions and others held their heads in one of their hands as the other put food slowly in their mouths when I was not looking

His younger sibling explained to the rest of us with amusement what the actions meant as they kept their fellow priest's plates full.

'A human gesture, one of tiredness with everyone's nonsense and expressing a desire to forget it or about it while knowing that they cannot. Please stop him, the head is the one place he is fully healed at except his eyes.' Aesan sang to me as he continued to refill the plates and glasses of water of our guests as they pretend to sleep and drink in their sleep.

"My love, please stop for I'm sure that you can fix it." I told to him as I put my hand behind his back and started to rub.

That seemed to calm him down and he rose from the table and looked at the man whose name I forgot.

"How bad was the screw-up brother? The sister responsible for this died and left a Nephew with Malcador to serve as liaison." He asked.

"The nephew is dead, Malcador decided to clone him, mix the DNA with that of a human and keeps it as a confidant as if he was an Eye of Lileath with their spouse, by our standards they are probably married too but I can't check for sure, so let me know if you do find out.

Please tell me she at the very least spoke with the Anathema, or even Valdor of our deal." My husband begged.

"No, only to Malcador, for he is the Anathema's Apprentice and trusted peer and the one responsible for the administration, so we thought he would be enough as he is part of the Triumvirate."

If they are equals then it shouldn't be that bad should it?

"Malcador is the type of man that looks at what we do and thinks we should do more and would happily do it to his people. He is also allowed to keep secrets from the Anathema as his second in command, former apprentice and trusted friend and he knows little of how we operate and why. The Triumvirate is legal fiction in dealing with the Imperium in his persona, as it's the Anathema that gets to decide things such as alliances and she not only bungled the deal, she insulted Malcador and made claims to trust and a history that did not happen while acting like an enemy and wishing to be treated like an ally. He will or has already founded two organizations that acts as the Pantheon demands of us and that the second will be filled with people that wish to take it even further." My husband responded.

Oh, it was worse. I don't know why I am surprised, for things can always get worse.

"Explain brother, because our examinations of human culture don't show us that we have done wrong."

The rest of the priests started looking a bit worried, but they did not look too perturbed.

My husband started massaging his head as I continued rubbing his back and sent him love and kisses to his soul and asked him things are as bad as they sound as they can always abandon the deal and sang to him as such.

'Thank you my love, and no the situation is not that bad and it is still salvageable but we can't abandon it, because we need it for threats just as serious as Slaanesh.' He sang and I relaxed than tensed again.

The New Divine is quite literally in the process of eating our species to death and they need to deal with something just as bad? The suspense is killing me.

My husband continued to sing to his fellow priests.

"We need to send a messenger to the Anathema and only the Anathema, an Older Brother or Older Sister, and send them with a written treaty and inform them that an informal treaty exists and has been agreed to by Malcador and we have provided our end of the bargain and if they do not sign it we're taking the Webway gate and Eldar part of the Astronomicon we left them back and are moving the Webway City and Webway passages away from Terra. If they try to argue its theirs now inform them that because Malcador did not offer something else we will take as collateral Sol, their birth star, for breaking the treaty, then once their species is dead we'll be taking our goods back too and as they haven't gained access to the Webway they have no claim on the city and tunnels either.

You will apologize for the Tardiness and explain that the woman who should have sent this written treaty died on the way and you will offer some measure of recompense for it. Some of their STC schematics they do not possess but would find useful should do. The treaty will inform them all what we have offered and how, what we demand of them and the most obvious catches and clauses of breaking the treaty as well as what will happen if any side breaks it. If the Anathema, in whatever guise they took asks about why he was not informed, tell him that we went to Malcador and he is to please ask him if he ever agreed to such a treaty and not if he remembers it.

We'll have to help them more than we offered too to build up trust, for we are currently in a deficit of such a resource, but we can just pick up the Anathema's first twenty-one progeny after the Trash Holes kidnap them and heal them if they are too hurt." My husband said.

That was an incredibly generous offer, almost a gift truly, and his siblings seemed to agree from their frowns

"We need to punish them for assuming we are dead and that meant they could go back on their deal and for thinking they can trick us to our disadvantage." Another priest, an Older Sister that was also a Siren said.

My husband looked at her annoyed.

"They broke and did nothing, for it's us that failed to live up to what we promised and said we will do, because Humans don't express their civilizational tendencies through Trickery, they do it through Playing With Each Other and we failed to come to play when we promised we would and instead only gave them some toys, some implied threats and dare to call us friends for it." My husband replied.

That made little sense, for civilization is trickery, otherwise we and Eldar are nothing but engines of war and destruction.

"Husband, please elaborate, for I do not understand what you are saying." I asked him.

My husband sighed. He looked at me from the tip of my tail to my forehead and then back down again. He kissed my forehead gently then his eyes hardened as he looked at the rest of his siblings and I was again reminded that my husband is not an Eldar.

None of those gathered here, except myself, are eldar or descendants of such, even if my husband is the only one with a foreign soul, for Eldar are creatures of trickery, because our civilizations were born of such as we tricked the gods who in turn tricked us into thinking we are civilized and became as such.

There was only Threat Analysis in his eyes now, for his kindness and love were gone and the only thing left was one War Machine transmitting information to its kin.

Priests of the Gods-as-they-were are not creatures with minds and morals born of trickery, they were minds and souls that while they could engage in trickery they were not civilized, for they were made for War and they serve the Gods that were made for such and not those born of Trickery.

Eldar don't feel at home among the screams of others and most certainly not their own, but the family of my husband does, for it was the only way to get them to come and feel safe.

"I am going to give to each of you a quick description and story as to how humans think and what they build their civilization out of, then I want all of you except my wife to tell me how does it fit with what you have done." My husband addressed his fellow priests and crowd.

They all nodded and even now my husband worked to maintain the ritual that keeps them from dying from rest. I spotted some of them shuffling as they pretended their bodies are no longer asleep.

'What is that about?' I asked my husband.

'Trickery, we still need to put up a show, I can't do all the work, my siblings will help once I finish this story.' He sang and I relaxed and prepared to enjoy the show.

If his siblings are well enough to try to trick me, then all is good, for it's when the Damned stop trying to Trick you or Sing to you that things are bad.

The difference between the song of the soul and speech of the mind as my husband told me, is that the first is art when you try to convince others to act or react a certain way or in a certain way, while soul speech is the transmission of information devoid of all joy or trickery or emotion. You sing to those who are your friends to convince them of what you wish for and speak when you wish to do so to enemies, for you are not trying to convince them but tell them to do as you wish or else.

Now one priest is singing to recalibrate his fellow War Machines made to assess and deal with Foreign Threats and updating the Threat Profile of Mankind, for the old one was incomplete and wrong and they need to deal with issues before they become such.

There is only one priest, one queen and fifteen War Machines and three minds spread among them left in this room.
~~~~~~~~~~

Our souls became one as the Older Brother prepared to sing and fifteen souls became one soul and one mind.

The current threat that was considered was Homo Sapiens Sapiens and derivatives which commonly refer to themselves as Humanity. Born of Sol 3 'Old Earth' and made distinct from others of their kind somewhere around 200.000 to 500.000 years ago.

Fast breeders, Low lifespan, Capable of Mimicking civilization, High Capacity for War, Weapon Souls, Middling capability of Trickery, High reliability, Low gift levels, Medium Intelligence, High technological prowess, High Adaptability, Godless god eaters, Allowed to Exist.

Current Threat Level... Middling and dropping if left to their own, might rise to Low in the following centuries. Maximum Threat level achieved: Medium. Highest threat level in the Great Wheel allowed to exist.

Middling is the Highest threat level left in the Great Wheel for now.

They are Candidates for joining the Krork Biosphere. If allowed to proceed, threat level becomes that of Gorkamorka which holds the Current Threat Level of Extinction. Gorkamorka does not yet exist, current profile and plans insufficient to allow prevention of existence.

The Older Brother updates the threat profile of Mankind.

"On the World that is now known as 'Terra' by its inhabitants, a species of monkeys learned to walk upright as they hunted for food so many years ago that they cannot say exactly when and who stopped walking on four limbs for good first. They call themselves Mankind now and were once mightier than they are now, but this is not a tale of their might, but a tale of their hearts and minds.

True Intelligence on Terra was born of one path on this world and that is Play. All creatures with even the most Middling forms of Intelligence are capable of learning games to play and their intelligence is determined by the number or complexity of the games they can learn.

Humanity changed from the rest of their kin with the development of the Game called 'Throw and Catch', for among their planet they were the only ones that could throw something, catch it then throw it back and that which couldn't was lesser than them and was hunted and eaten for it. It is this game that turned one monkey different from another and that they held in their souls and from which their Identity and Civilizations formed.

Early civilizations were the teams, for Mankind learned that they could 'Throw and Catch' in small groups called clans, then those clans grew and united into tribes and eventually they split into three types as they grew.

Those with only one ruler at the top and smaller ones below them became Kingdoms and Empires, those in which all are equal but positions on the field could be allocated through merit or votes became Republics and Democracies and those in-between where the highest positions were held by groups or could be earned by catching or accumulating various resources were called Aristocracies and Oligarchies.

Other games sprung up from it in time, and they could learn others that were not related to the 'first game', but their civilization is born and based on this game in whatever form it takes and those that are the best at it in whatever form is most popular at a given time end up ruling them eventually.

Those that will not play are enemies or food, those that aren't as good lessers and those that are better are something to emulate, serve, learn from or surpass.

The journey of their souls started as a rock, a rock they attached to a stick and called it a spear and it evolved over time and it is now at the stage where it is a gun that shoots at others until none on their world can throw back something at them, and for this they call themselves rulers of their world even if not all of their souls have reached that point.

There is another form of rulership technically, albeit it can take the form of all the others, one which is called a Tyranny, and it is where the rulers are allowed to Throw and Catch as they please, but the people are not allowed to Throw back, for the Tyrant, his friends and his people play and keep other people from playing with them in words or deeds and because of it they are Despised by all that have lived in one and many that have only heard of them.

In the vastness of space they played their game of 'Throw and Catch' with words to see if any would be able to catch them and throw them back to play and in the beginning as children they rejoiced, as those they found were eagerly willing to catch and throw words at them and some even started to team up and throw them at others together in teams.

Those that didn't wish to play Throw and Catch in words and wished to play with bullets, swords and lasers found that Mankind is more than happy to play with those as well, and then they learned that if you are not as good as them at it then they will happily hunt you to extinction if you don't learn to Throw and Catch with words.

It is why many grew to despise the Gods, for they say that they would Throw worship, friendship, love and anything else that they could throw at them and they did not see them throw anything back. And so with few exceptions abandoned them and sought to see if they can't throw them at their enemies, for if they won't play then they'll be what they play with and if they do learn to play, if they don't do it well enough they'll be feasted on.

As time goes on, children no longer trust as easily those that have not become their friends when they were young. They need assurances, shows of trust, sacrifice and the written word to trust and keep each other accountable and play on the same side, for if they do not receive such, then they will only play against you. This need can be mitigated if one befriended them early, or through continued and sustained behavior and once such assurances are made and they cease caring about the written word in interaction with you as they learn to play in greater ways than treaty dictates and they ignore your faults and you ignore theirs and yet still remain friends.

In the vastness of space they had found an enemy that looked at their games of Throw and Catch with words and scoffed, for they were Orks and they were the Sons of Gork and Mork and their Intelligence came from Violence and not Play.

When Mankind found that the Orks would not play with words they were more than happy to play a more Violent form of Play and Throw and Catch with them and the Orks were overjoyed as for the first time in their existence they had experienced Play and they learned from Mankind to Play and for the first time they had found a friend, for the soul of Man would only engage in long and repeated games and play with Friends even if they've never done so with the games of War before, but such is fine for the games of War rise in popularity among Mankind as they Play with the Orks.

Gork and Mork looked for an equal to play with as they fought one another but to their dismay they found that Humanity had none they considered their Father and so they could not join their sons, but they remembered an Idea they learned from their own Siblings which did not wish to engage in Proper Violence.

They remembered Adoption, and they have decided to Adopt the one species that would Play with their Sons and taught them one Game they knew well, for they were friends and have been playing their Violent games for a long time compared to Mankind's lives.

Now Mankind is at the precipice of being given a choice, one Gork and Mork will keep giving them until they refuse or die, for the Orks are in the process of learning to Play 'Throw and Catch' like their Friends, even as their Friends learned to be more adept in Violence from them, and soon the Sons of Gork and Mork will learn to do so with words and they will say to them.

'Join the War and Play with us or Die Alone.' Gork and Mork will say through their Sons and to their Friends who will become Sons.

They will say it until humanity can't Engage in Violence anymore and they will accept or die and regardless of what they say, when they can't be Violent anymore they will still be taken in with love by their new Twin Fathers, or if they can be Violent for long or well enough then by the Twins Father. "

Recalibrating threat status.

Fast breeders, Low lifespan, Game/Play based civilization, High Capacity for War, Weapon Souls, Middling capability of Trickery, High reliability, Low gift levels, Medium Intelligence, High technological prowess, High Adaptability, Godless God Eaters, Allowed to exist.

Recalculating past actions and deals based on actualized information.

Eleven pairs of eyes opened, one soul became fifteen, all fifteen spoke and sang the same two words as One.

"Fucking Damnit." Fifteen voices sang as one.

They seemed appropriate.

The three of us still need to make sure the fools have enough food and water as we needed to maintain decorum and the Queen looked very scared, for our Brother sang of both his old people and the orks and Krork to his wife, even if she was not told of the issue, for he waited for this moment to surprise her.

We noticed that we are running out of food.

"We will go bring more food." Guraith and Aesan sang.

Marsa continued to stay and act as a nurse.

None of the fools were in any danger of dying and I wished to eat some as well, for it looked tasty and I hadn't managed to eat yet.

I stood down and ate and drank some while my brothers went to the kitchens and brought more food. I made sure to eat their food as well to let them know how it tasted for each of put different type of food in our plates to enjoy all of them and we ran out of some of the fruits Guraith liked and are unlikely to get more until next year.