Shadow Warriors Are Skeptical of Changes in Their Stances

Lilirys was bored. She was bored out of her perfectly sculpted skull.

This wasn't going anywhere, she was smart enough to have realised that when she first crossed the outter gateway. The lack of organisation in their files was appaling and she rued the day, so many years ago, when she had turned her back on her so-called "accursed kin". In her heart, she knew she had made the right choice but boing on the losing side never went down well and she wondered how the Dark Elves had made the greenskins more compliant and effective than the dwarfs she now saw before her, some trembling, some drunk, others enamored with the feminine attributes of taller beings.

She took advantage of her perfect marksmanship to pluck a few targets from the keep wall as she stood proudly atop a warn-out grave, its occupant now surely long-forgotten.

Suddenly, she felt a dark presence creeping up behind her and she turned to see  a dark Chosen doing his clumsy best to sneak up the hill. She moved to hide behind a tree, all the while keeping both her eyes on the Chaos God's knight. She watched him as he removed his helmet and redied his blade while foul dark flames erupted from his feet and swirled crazily to envelop him.

Without as much as a hint of hesitation she began showering him with arrows, confident she could take down this threat before it reached their frail backline. Her fierce salve was gruelling and she could see the warrior starting to faulter. She grinned and took satisfaction from the knowledge that she had helped protect this failed endeavour.

Her smile quickly faded, however, when she saw the Chosen take hold of a Bright Wizard's leg and bite a chunk off his ankle. She launched one final arrow at his back but not before the Wizard tumbled lifeless beside him. She had known him and knew all too well how reckless he was with his well-being.

"Oh, Fredek," she sighed as she recoiled from the ghastly sight, "You idiot..."