Mountain of psychic rape.
The character of Eldrad is lifted from Games Workshop's Warhammer 40,000- he is renowned as the foremost psyker of the Eldar, Chief Farseer for Craftworld Ulthwé. He is awfully fond of engaging in overly elaborate plots to tweak the balance of fate, presumably to preserve the Eldar as a species. Also, he engages in only the highest forms of dickishness, as the accounts from one of his retinue warlocks attest. Possibly father to Taldeer and Macha- LCB is ambiguous, but current /tg/ canon acts on the assumption that he is.
He's dead now, supposedly, or maybe not. Nobody can ever tell with Eldrad, but in any case he vanished during the 13th Black Crusade. He left behind a bunch of active waystones, causing some Eldar to think that Eldrad is simply trapped in the Warp for the time being, doing something with Slaanesh, but the guy's a dick and it's hard to tell what, if anything, he's actually doing. His patron god is almost certainly Cegorach who was the biggest dick in the Eldar pantheon and one of the unholy...quadrinity...of dickishness and Just as planned. Nevermind GW is pretending this never happened.
Some time ago, Abaddon lead an assault on craftworld Ulthwe to attack the Eldar Farseer council there, after slowly slogging through the craftworld, his Black Legion suffering massive casualties as the Eldar picked them off in hit and run attacks Abaddon finally got to the council, but found Eldrad waiting for him. Eldrad quickly made a mockery of Abaddon's combat skill, dodging Abaddon's strikes with Drach'nyen and the Talon of Horus with ease and in two strikes, Eldrad cleaved through Abaddon's terminator armor with virtually no effort and forever separated Abaddon from his arms, the Eldar stuffed the remainder of the attack force into a dreadclaw with "Failbaddon the Armless' Failboat" and other demeaning terms and images painted all over it and launched them back into the Eye of Terror while laughing hysterically. And that's why Abaddon has no arms.
He beat up Abaddon
in close combat despite knowing full well what kind of reputation he had. What a dick.
- Where did Eldrad’s reputation for being such a dick come from?
- He gives candy to young races.
And that candy will contain a slow-spreading gingivitis virus that will fester in the new race and slowly spread amongst their entire species. The gum pain will be considered a normal part of everyday life, and they will regularly take painkillers.
When the ’Nids invade them in 3000 years, they too will be infected by the gingivitis disease – but they are mindless beasts, who know not of painkillers. Surviving in constant pain, only made worse by eating, this entire massive hive of ’Nids will simply become extinct, a result of their own adaptation abilities.
And of course, Eldrad’s craftworld would have been the next one in line from that particular hive. Just. As. Planned.
And that is why Eldrad is a dick. There is only one mortal being in 40k who is a bigger dick than Eldrad.
 The Stories
The following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.
So, Eldrad Ulthran is a dick. It seems shocking to hear and I know he is the guiding light of our people, but in all honesty, he's a total dick.
I know this because I served with him. You see, I am a Warlock. You can imagine my excitement when I was first assigned to his retinue. I took no heed to the fact his last set of Warlocks supposedly died in "a most ironic manner". I was young back then, only over 9000, and naive.
As soon as I met Eldrad in person he gave me my first order: "find a howling banshee exarch, and a witch blade for yourself, we are going to Setrus Prime (as the mon-keigh call it)." He actually said the parentheses by leaning forward and placing a hand beside his mouth to direct his voice to me alone. He is kind of a douche that way, we were in the room alone.
Anyway, Eldrad, the banshee exarch and I sortie to the planet's surface. I project some illusory cover to shield our hiding spot and the exarch and I await more orders. Before us a great battle is being waged between a force of the mon-keigh Space Marines and our fallen brethren, the Dark Eldar. About 20 minutes into the battle Eldrad points to a pebble by his foot and says "Move this small stone to where I am pointing now." He points to an innocuous patch of ground. Dumbfounded but trusting, I do as he says. No sooner had I reached cover did a Space Marine bike roar past me, straight over the pebble. The mighty treads of the bike's wheels fling the pebble up into an empty stretch of air. It hangs there for a moment, then a Dark Eldar reaver rushes into it, the pebble sucked into its jet intake. The reaver sputters then bursts into flames, accelerating rapidly, right into a Talos. The Talos was not of regular design, not that any ever are. This one was a mass of spinning blades with a screaming humanoid in its center, the body of which was too mutilated to even identify its race.
I might mention at this point that Eldrad has not turned to look at the ensuing chaos, instead he is staring in the direction of myself and our howling banshee companion.
When the reaver hit the talos, all hell broke loose as the twirling saws of the unsavory machine broke free like angry daemons being exorcised. I saw one blade, bouncing and racing directly towards us at ludicrous speeds. And I am an Eldar, I know speed. I brace my witch blade for the impact readying myself to take the blow, to save the farseer in my protection. The blades hit and both the saw and the witch blade veer off directly towards the banshee exarch. Both blades merely graze her, just deep enough to cut the restraints that hold her costume on. As her armour falls away exposing her breasts, I realize why Eldrad was staring at her. He giggles, then orders a full retreat.
What a dick.
So Eldrad is a huge dick, but I think I have proven that by now. What I haven't told you is that he is, without a doubt, the greatest psyker in the universe.
I never saw this more exemplified than when we went to deal with a splinter fleet of Hive Fleet Leviathan. The first thing Eldrad did was use his massive reservoir of power to redirect the entire hive fleet 0.3 degrees off course. At first we had no idea why, but he assured us there was a reason. 134 years later we encountered the swarm again, and now we saw his plan, the fleet was heading straight into a desolate backwater planet. Using yet more of his might, Eldrad hid the entire planet from the fleet's sight. This caused the entire hive fleet to crash square into the planet's surface. He then called for me and the rest of his retinue to sortie down to the planet, we had a mission.
Once on the surface the bleeding husks of charred hive ships loomed over us like cold organic volcanoes. And then in a clearing, we found our quarry, a mighty hive tyrant, its psychic eminence clouding my own mind like a thick whispering fog. Eldrad was not taken aback in the slightest, he stepped forward, unarmed, right into the clutches of the hive tyrant. He then began to emulate the hive tyrant's psychic powers, only at a much higher magnitude. He had made himself into a synapse creature of immense power. So much so he brow beat the mighty tyranid into submission. He then turned to us, tyranid leader in tow, and said, "We are returning, we have what we came for." Although impressed by Eldrad's mastery of the mind, we all could not stop pondering his master plan. Why would he need such a mighty beast? It was not till the next morning that I knew. Pasted throughout the ENTIRE CRAFTWORLD were pictures of the titanic monstrosity and its... titanic monstrosity resting on my face as I slept. I never even knew tyranids had genitalia.
What a dick.
You know, Eldrad Ulthran really is a dick. I've said it before, and I have absolutely no doubt that I will say it again. He has skill and power of heights that are only reachable, even for most Eldar, in their dreams, and how does he use them? He uses them like this:
Years ago, a minor Ork Waaagh sprung up and launched itself against the Mon-Keigh world they call Lentak II. It's an insignificant planet by any definition except, apparently, Eldrad's. He summoned me and told me we were going to Lentak, and that it was of the utmost importance to see that a certain battle took a particular course. He also told me to bring along the best sniper I could find, adding that "He might come in handy," with a wink like he was passing on some kind of secret message. Typical Eldrad behavior, that.
So, we get down to the surface of Lentak and locate the "important" battle, in a rocky pass high up in a mountain range. Eldrad isn't wearing his helmet, the better to display the horribly annoying half-smile that's on his face the whole time, the one he puts on when he knows something you don't and is about to use that information. I'm busy projecting an illusion to keep the Mon-Keigh and the Orks from noticing us, Eldrad and the sniper are just watching the battle from the rock outcrop where we're standing. Finally, Eldrad points at a particular Ork nob riding in the back of one of their wartrukks.
"That one. Take off his ear. His *left* ear. Right...now."
The sniper fires, cleanly severing the Ork's ear. The thing roars like the beast it is, looks around, and smacks the Ork beside it right off the back of the bouncing vehicle. The fallen Ork doesn't even have time to stop rolling before it gets run over by another Ork on a warbike; the bike nearly crashes, and one of the bombs sitting in a rack near the back bounces loose and falls to the ground. Eldrad looks at it, nods in satisfaction, and motions for us to leave.
Five of the Mon Keigh years pass. Five blessed, beloved years, in which I do not hear or see Eldrad a single time. I don't know where he was, or what he does when he's not busy being a dick; probably off seducing Tau or members of whatever other young race has caught his fancy recently. Anyway, those five years pass all too quickly, and then Eldrad comes back, contacts me, and tells me we're going back to Lentak II, just the two of us. This, of course, sets my teeth on edge, because I know he's going to do something unbearably dickish, but I can't exactly refuse the most important Farseer of my Craftworld.
Sure enough, we wind up back in that same mountain pass, watching a column of Imperial Guard troops march past. This time, we're down at roughly the same level as the guardsmen, but since there are only two of us, it's easy for me to project sufficient camouflage. Good thing, because Eldrad sure wasn't helping. I notice that the wreckage from the battle years ago hasn't been completely cleaned; some has been pushed up against the walls of the pass, some hasn't.
I belatedly remember the fallen bomb and start to look for it, but before I can spot it, a Chimera with a commissar riding in its open hatch finds it on its own. The explosion bounces the vehicle into the air, and the unsecured commissar goes flying. Shrapnel flies towards us and I dodge, rolling across the ground to avoid the splintered metal.
When I look up, I see Eldrad, standing with the sunrise behind him, posed like a statue with his head high and his fists on his hips. An instant later, the commissar's hat lands right on his head. And Eldrad, the dick, holds the pose and smirks at me. I almost dropped the illusion and let the mon-keigh kill us both, but then I realized Eldrad would probably have some way of escaping even that.
Never in my nearly twenty thousand years of life have I met a bigger dick than Eldrad Ulthran.
So, I've already told you about how Eldrad Ulthran is a dick. You've heard it all, all the sad stories... except, of course, you haven't, because Eldrad constantly generates more indignities to pile upon me. I thought he'd give me a break after the incident on Tissalk Secunda; he really went too far on that one, and after they finally stopped laughing, the rest of the expeditionary force were giving him some funny looks. I thought he wouldn't do anything else so soon. I was wrong.
With the Grey Ones rising again to wage war against all life, many of our priorities have been shifted to meet this resurgent threat. Thus, when Eldrad said he was working on a project and needed the body of a Necron warrior, everyone assumed he meant it was for research into some kind of weapon to use against them. Under any other circumstances, getting the order from Eldrad to gather a raiding group together would have filled me with fear that I was going to be the butt of another joke, but even Eldrad has to be serious where the ancient enemy is concerned... right?
Besides, to be honest, I was too busy being afraid of the Grey Ones to worry about whatever dickish maneuver Eldrad must be planning. I've faced the mon-keigh, the Orks, our fallen brethren, and the horrors of the Warp, and such foes do not frighten me, but the soulless enemy does. They're so... cold. Nevertheless, let it not be said that I did not do my duty when called upon.
We flew almost to the edge of the galaxy; myself, my handpicked force, and Eldrad, who actually acted professionally during the long transit. I kept glancing over my shoulder, literally and metaphorically, expecting his true nature to assert itself, but we reached the tomb world without incident. We landed on that ancient soil, and all my senses were screaming at me to get back in the ship and get away, back to Ulthwe and (relative) safety. But we went further. We went down into a tomb, Eldrad opening the way for us.
Down in that darkness, I was more scared than I ever had been in my whole life, all 19,872 years of it; this was one of the most nerve-wracking (if not THE most nerve-wracking) tasks I'd ever been given as a member of Eldrad's retinue. Eldrad had a device with him, a band of wraithbone he claimed had taken him nearly a year to create; he told us that it would keep a Necron in stasis, regardless of what transpired. He also said that our presence wouldn't wake the tomb world; I just had to cling tight to my staff and pray that he was right. Naturally, Eldrad being Eldrad, we couldn't just grab the warrior closest to the entrance and run for it; we had to find the "right" one, which meant walking for nearly an hour into the tomb's depths before he finally selected one identical to every other warrior and locked the band around its head.
By the time we get back to the surface, which took even longer than going in because we dropped that heavy Necron no less than four times on the way back, I'm a bundle of nerves, and it only gets worse during the flight. I can't sleep inside our little ship, knowing that soulless killing machine is on board with us, knowing about the wars that they fought against our ancestors, and what kind of deaths the Eldar in those days met. It keeps running through my head that it's almost my birthday, that I'll soon be turning 19,873, and that I don't want to get snuffed out before I hit the twenty-thousand-year mark. That's no way for an Eldar to go.
The ship arrives back at Ulthwe the day before my birthday. Eldrad, grinning enigmatically, heads off to his workshop with the Necron, and I stumble up to my cozy dwelling bubble and fall straight into bed, still wearing the same warlock robes I've been wearing since the tomb world. Yes, it was nasty, like something a mon-keigh would do. I was so tired I didn't care. If that Necron wanted to get me, it'd have to fight through half of Ulthwe to reach me, coming from Eldrad's bubble complex. I slept at last.
Not that it helped much. In my dreams, I'm back in the tomb, with Grey Ones rising to life around me. I run, but I'm trapped; I try to fight, and I get torn into bleeding shreds. I wake up, feeling barely better than when I got off the mission ship, and realize that it's my birthday. Congratulations, self. Outside my bubble, I can sense the collected presence of family and friends, come to wish me success in my new year. Well, you only turn 19,873 once, so I drag myself out of bed, toss my grimy robes aside, and head for the shower; I figure a little session there should revive me enough to at least face my well-wishers graciously. I step through the bathroom door, pull back the shower curtain, and the Necron is in my shower cubicle.
THE NECRON IS IN MY SHOWER CUBICLE. Poised as if to strike, hands raised and clawed metal fingers spread - that memory is one I shall carry to the end of time.
I do the worst thing I possibly could. I panic. I scream at the top of my lungs and run headlong...out of the bathroom...out of my dwelling bubble...and come face-to-face with my birthday crowd. While wearing my "birthday suit," just like a scene from an embarrassing nightmare. There's a moment in which everyone goes silent - everyone except Eldrad, standing off to one side, his snickering audible to all.
I suspect that they'll still be talking about this when I turn 20,000. Thanks, Eldrad. Way to ruin my birthday.
What a dick.
If I've said it once, I've said it a million times - Eldrad’s a dick. It’s totally inconceivable to me just how much of a dick he can be sometimes...well, all the time, really. And for something to be inconceivable to me, that’s saying something, I’m an Eldar.
So this time, Eldrad summoned me to some contested planet on the outer rim and explained the situation. He said nothing of our mission except when I asked, but even then his answers were cryptic, as ever. I’d ask him what we would be doing on the planet, and he’d pause, then mumble incoherently, winking at me, or something like that. I thought at the time that the entire thing was just some ridiculous set-up that Eldrad was using to some trivial end, but what it was at the time, I couldn't fathom.
We departed for the surface with nothing but some poor guardian who probably had no idea what was about to happen. I concealed us against a hillside as we watched the carnage below. The forces of Chaos were attacking an Imperial outpost in the valley ahead of us, which appeared woefully outnumbered. I now realized the gravity of our situation - this planet contained one of the wraith gates that linked through the webway to every Eldar craftworld in existence. Were that to fall into the hands of Chaos...
And at that point, I felt guilty for doubting Eldrad. The greatest psyker in existence, one of the most powerful beings ever to roam the galaxy - and I had dismissed this mission out of hand. I now knew that we could not fail - we could not let the planet fall into the hands of Chaos!
The three of us made our way down the slope, within metres of the battle, concealed by my illusion the entire way. Unobservant of us, a Space Marine Dreadnought lumbered forward, engaging a squad of Chaos Space Marines. The infantry threw themselves against the armored hull, smashing and tearing as best they could, but to no avail - the dreadnought tore each marine apart, one by one.
Then, Eldrad turned to the guardian and made the strangest order I had ever heard, in all my 19,873 years. “Fire at the dreadnought. Its right knee.” The guardian looked in horror as he let loose the rain of shurikens from his catapult, knowing full well what would happen. A single shuriken pierced through the metal joint, and the dreadnought fell forward onto a stray grenade from a dead Chaos Space Marine, and the entire machine exploded in a dizzying spray of shrapnel. I held up my witchblade, averting what I could while my rune armor deflected the rest. Only a few bits of metal managed to scrape against my exposed face. I turned to face Eldrad, to ask the reason for destroying the enemy of those we were attempting to stop, when suddenly, my stomach sank, for two reasons.
One, he was giggling.
Two, a massive squad of fresh Chaos Marines, led by a massive demon, was charging over the hill towards our position.
I screamed at Eldrad to turn, but he simply continued giggling. The squad closed in, until it seemed that our fearless leader would find his end here, when suddenly, the marines scraped to a halt, each one with its eyes on me. One by one, the entire squad, including the demon began to giggle, then laugh, then roll on the ground, guffawing uncontrollably. Eldrad snorted, then ordered a retreat. As we left the planet, I saw the Space Marine barrage annihilate the demon and his squad, buying the defenses enough time to push back the attack. The planet was saved.
It wasn't until I got into my bathroom (and passed half the damn craftworld) that I realized that, upon my forehead, in impossibly perfect scratches and scrapes, were written the words “I SUCK TYRANID COCK.”
What a dick.
So, Eldrad Ulthran is a huge dick. But you already know that, I say it every day, sometimes twice a day because he’s just that bad.
So, one day I’m hanging out at one of the bakeries in Ulthwe, eating lunch while trying to chat up a really cute Howling Banshee when Eldrad walks in. All of a sudden I hear a shout from the bakers (I think he was a Swooping Bagel Exarch) and a loud bang as one of the wraithovens in the back explodes. Out of nowhere a loaf of bread the size of my head comes flying out, rebounds off the wraithglass window, hits my drink and spills it all over my pants, and then sails right into Eldrad’s open hand. He just gives me this smirk and takes a huge bite. Now my pants are soaked and the cute Banshee is laughing at me.
What a dick.
After I’m thoroughly embarrassed, Eldrad announces that we were moving out, this time to Cadia. So an hour later I’m flying the long way there because Eldrad wants to spend the trip chatting up that cute Banshee. My pants are still wet because he never gave me a chance to change them.
After what seems like forever we finally land on Cadia near one of those massive parade grounds the humans love, Eldrad has the three of us cloaked under one of his illusions. Up on a huge podium one of their generals is shouting orders and chomping on a cigar. He’s got the biggest damn collar I've ever seen, even bigger than the one that Warlock who hangs out with Idranel has.
Anyway, Eldrad has us stand around and twiddle our thumbs for about an hour until he notices a commissar walking by to inspect the huge formation of humans. Eldrad turns to the cute Banshee and whispers something in her ear, and then all of a sudden she shoves me really hard on the back. I stumble forward, out of the illusion, and fall into the commissar, knocking him into the formation and sending ever single soldier toppling to the ground. Apparently one of those soldiers hit a Sentinel in just the right spot and it goes tumbling over into all of the others, which in turn collapse into the lines of tanks and transports like a massive game of wraithdominoes except for all the explosions. In a few seconds the entire parade is a massive flaming wreck.
While I’m frantically trying to get away from the commissar, who’s screaming about the ‘damned xenos,’ Eldrad drops the illusion and just shoots the biggest grin I've ever seen up at the human with the huge collar, who’s so angry that he practically swallows his cigar. Then the cute Banshee grabs hold of me and the three of us hightail it to the ship before the humans can start trying to kill us. As we’re flying away I notice the mass of burning wreckage somehow manages to spell out ‘CREED SUCKS.’ Eldrad just laughs to himself like it’s the funniest damned thing in the world as he takes his seat.
Then we realize that he’s sitting on a Leman Russ.
Ursarkar E. Creed smiles to himself as he pulls out a fresh cigar. “Just as planned.”
What a couple of dicks.
 Death of Eldrad
You think you know about Eldrad being a dick. You know nothing.
I was going to partake of his juicy little soul, freshly ripped screaming from his body, when the little bastard managed to slip free and get away. I gave chase throughout the warp, thinking there was no way he could escape. He eventually came to a dead end, and I prepared to drink him in...
...and instead found myself guzzling Khorne's piss. The little bastard had tricked me into drinking my arch-enemy's piss. If it had been anyone else, it would have been sexy as all hell. But he managed to cloak the blood god while he was taking a leak instead.
What a dick.
Oh, and to top that off, I heard he was ghostwriting an AD&D module for Gary Gygax.