by Farseer Eldrad

An "Im-Bolc" Eldrad

mood: thoughtful

Life beyond death is good. Though The Powers That Be saw it fit to pit me up against a force that would surely require the sacrifice of my life to defeat, I seem to have come out the other side all the better for it. Not only did death not defeat me, but rules, recon, and a desire to sell more models of me than my more generic sibling Farseers mean that I'm more valuable than a third edition crawling Wraithlord.

It's nice to finally get my due.

I mean, would you want to be weighed down with marginal abilities that somehow justify a points increase AND the social stigma of being a "special character"?

No, probably not. It's far better to be loved than sneered.

But in this grim darkness of the far future where there is only war, skulls, and shouting, bald Space Marines, sometimes I feel a little cold. It's like I am everywhere, and yet nowhere.

Any army that wants an effective Farseer, has me in it. But it's not me. It's not even a badly painted version of me. I've gone from being "Eldrad counts as" to a "this counts as Eldrad" as people sub in my rules to inhabit the lesser bodies of their already purchased generic Farseers.

Ever inhabited a lesser being? It's not a pleasant feeling, I can assure you. Usually after "counts as" battle number three for the day I just want to bathe in a nice thick solution of brake fluid or Simple Green.

Also, I get to lead armies of the great craft-worlds of pretty much anything but Ulthwé. It makes an Eldar homesick, let me tell you. Sure some of them are beautifully painted and converted and they're a joy to lead (especially when I get to sacrifice a young prince to summon the Avatar of War. Whee!), but for the most part I've been contracted out like some Farseer mercenary (Clint Eastwood would be a totally hot Farseer Mercenary, btw).

I miss my Guardians in black.

Anyway, I'd write more, but the tug of the Warp calls me; the season Finale of Lost is coming up and even I can't predict what will happen on that show.