|Universe||Warhammer 40,000 Universe|
Faeruthriel was a female Eldar and the captain of a squadron of jetbikes. Her and her entire squadron - and presumably the entire planet upon which she served and likely called home - were eradicated in a battle with a massive Tyranid swarm. She perished when the planet was nearly completely decimated by the world, which is obvious by the spore-choked air of the planet.
Faeruthriel's Last Moments Edit
Faeruthriel and her squadron careened alongside the fractured glassaic domes, the smooth lines of their jetbikes cutting through the spore-choked air. The designs on the dome walls blurred into one, but still the loathsome winged Tyranids pursuing them kept pace. She banked sharply as a tell-tale buzzing indicated another incoming volley of flesh-beetles disgorged from the Tyranid's weapon-beasts, her squadron followed in perfect synchronisation before diving through a splintered archway. Lherian convulsed as a pair of shiny borer-beasts burrowed into his back, and he smashed into the delicate dome walls with a loud crack. A spray of coloured glassiac rained down around the fiery wreckage of his bike onto the battle below. Faeruthriel shouted tense commands to her comrades as they raced through the soaring arches of the vast dome's roof.
"Bank and open fire, cousins! On my mark!" she ordered, fear rich in her tone. The squadron braked sharply, pinwheeling round and stopping dead to face a cloud of fanged maws and leathery wings. "Now!" shouted Faeruthriel, and a hundred times a hundred razor-edged shuriken scythed into the chitinous bodies of their pursuers. Black ichor spurted and tattered bodies plummeted from the skies. For a second, hope flickered in Faeruthriel's heart.
Suddenly, the air filled with the snap of wings as something the size of a grav-tank dropped from the domed roof into the into their ranks, lashing out with enormous bladed limbs and killing three of her squad. Faeruthriel panicked, slamming her bike into reverse as the beast whipped its bulbous head round. It screamed, a bolt of incandescent light spearing from its jaws into the last of her squad. The resultant explosion almost knocked Faeruthriel from her saddle.
Without looking back, Faeruthriel levelled (sic) out and sped over a rolling landscape obscured by a rippling tide of sprinting aliens. A roaring leader-beast waded through their ranks, flanked by walking hulks of bone and muscle. Below her, knots of brave Eldar warriors buckled and gave way, disappearing under the sheer weight of screeching, stabbing beasts. Tears of anger ran down Faeruthriel's cheeks. How could this be happening?
Crouching low over the readout display, Faeruthriel drove the jetbike faster still, gun-beasts and warriors blurring into an indistinct mass of claw and carapace below. Too late she saw a trio of scythe-armed beasts leap into the air before her, smashing into the jetbike's prow. The bike corkscrewed downward, trailing oily black smoke before ploughing into the ranks of the aliens below.
Crawling from the mangled remains, Faeruthriel looked up with blood-filled eyes to see a creature twenty times her size staring at her with malign intelligence. It reached down with a massive claw, plucking her bodily from the wreckage as easily as she would have plucked ripe fruit from a tree. There was a single, still moment as it brought Faeruthriel close to its face, flailing and desperate. Then, with a sickening crunch, the moment passed.