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My Back Ground for the Nemisis Crown 
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Prophet of Tzeentch
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Well the title says it all so this is the introduction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shadows choose sides

Har Atha, black ark of the Athalir house, floated still on the sea, unaffected by either waves or tides its grey spires stretching far above even the tallest masts of its small fleet. The air was warm as it all ways was on the Telian sea and there was not a cloud in the sky. Inside things were similarly pleasant, at least if you were not a slave.

The throne room of Har Atha was not particularly large, though a black ark was a huge ship it was still a ship and the designers had not wanted to use up too much space. For all its lack of size it was lavish. The walls were hung with exquisite tapestries woven from the hair of elfin maidens, portraying the lost land of Nagarythe as few now remembered it. Nagarythe was lost now, lost to its sons and daughters.

The Throne its self was unusual, it was carved in the form of a lion of Chrace with its head rearing above its occupant, the marble it was carved from never seemed to be steady, it was always subtly different every time you looked at it. The stone was a slightly different shade of blue or the head was looking in a different direction. The elf on the throne had similar qualities, you could not definitively say anything about this elf’s appearance, it was always shifting with colours running and changing on his very skin, the only thing remaining the same was the mark on his forehead. The mark of Tzeentch.

Another elf stood in front of the throne giving his report to the occupant one Drainial Shadowheart.
“My lord the spies report that more nobles are sailing for the empire than have done so in centuries, it seems that there is some thing that Malikith wants, some thing called the Nemesis crown. The spies could find out no more than the name but that Malikith wants it badly enough to mobilise so many nobles is proof that it must be powerful. The spies in the old world say that many of the other races are also striping their lands to search for this crown.” The elf gave his report in a clinical tone, not giving any hint of an opinion.
“Did it ever occur to you, Sultar, that if the foolish Dhoine are striping their lands of defenders Malikith may simply be taking advantage of this to get in some easy raiding, a fool the elf may be but he knows what he is doing when it comes to theft.” Drainial replied in a musing tone, almost talking to himself.”

“There is other news my lord” Sultar continued.
“Go on”
“It seems that there is a considerable force of Druchii, rebels against Malikith, who are massing to take a ruined Asur city known as Tor Thana under one named Rackieth.”

Drainial thought this over in silence, if there were loyalist Druchii coming to the old world in such numbers some may decide to cause trouble for him, there had been a bounty on his head large enough to outfit a raiding expedition for 3000 years and even with the aid of lord Tzeentch he could not be sure that he could defend against them alone. But joined with an army of rebels he would be far safer, and he had heard tales of this city named Tor Thana. It was said that it was filled with restless spirits, spirits that might be put to good use by one with the ability to use them.

“Set Sail for Tor Thana, I will meet this Rackieth.”

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Tue Jun 12, 2007 11:31 am
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I liked this beginning makes it a sort of powerful beginning in a way. Hard to explain why, but still good

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Tue Jun 12, 2007 11:36 am
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Nice story, this will get interesting...

Glad there's someone else than me that prefers Tzeentch over Slaanesh...


Tue Jun 12, 2007 11:41 am
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Hey, hey Tzeentch isn't the one that cooks up hot babes :D

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Tue Jun 12, 2007 11:43 am
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No but he is the one that grants you magical and political power, when your the boss man the hot babes come to you. Thanks for the quick responses (I only posted this ten minuets ago! :D )

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Tue Jun 12, 2007 11:49 am
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Nice story.
Although it makes me wonder, doesn’t Drainial get a headache when he looks in the mirror? All those changing colours in ones faces must be a pain to look at. :lol:

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Tue Jun 12, 2007 1:21 pm
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Right, I am realy bored today so here is part two, enjoy. Oh and Gooner I hope you dont object to Drainial knowing Gorganeth, it just occourd to me that here are two elves who have been alive since the sundering and it might be good to have them be able to talk about sunken Nagarythe and what a pathetic mummys boy Malikith is. If no one has any objections I will be adding in the other rebels on the Barran hills thread as the story go's on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An unknown Black Ark was making its stately way towards the encampment. Alanirith swiftly climbed down the watchtower and ran to tell lord Rackieth.

Har Atha came to a halt half a mile away from the encampment; well out of range of any bolt throwers that anyone might consider firing at her. On the top most spire Drainial was preparing to come ashore. Drachain, Drainials loyal dragon was restless waiting to be in the air, like most dragons she spent most of her time asleep but if she had to be up then she wanted to soar amongst the clouds. She was about to get her wish; Drainial was bedecked in his finest armour. Found deep within the chaos wastes inside an alter to Tzeentch it bore an uncanny resemblance to the armour of a noble of the Druchii but it was worked with far more skill. The armour was deep blue with gold and silver trimmings. Stylised birds adorned the majority of the armour; the helmet was worked into the visage of a bird fully enclosing Drainials face. The Sigel of house Athalir, a bloody heart clenched in an eagle’s talon, took up most of the front of the armour. It was as if it had always been ment for him. Leaping upon Drachain’s back Drainial and his dragon launched of the top of Har Atha, diving for a hundred meters before Drachain’s wings spread and they soared majestically towards the encampment.

Looking down from the air Drainial could see that there was two distinct sections in the army encamped there. In on one side the troops seemed standard troops, spear elves and crossbow elves predominated but all of the parts that made up a Druchii army were there. On the other side it was quite different. There were elves looking like whitch elves but there was some thing subtly different about them, dark horsemen made up much of the rest of that host though there were no few warriors and a substantial amount of elite looking warriors that bore a resemblance to the executioners of Khaine. Then he saw the serpent banner and it all made sense. The cult of Cheoresh! He had thought them long destroyed, that cult had been around when he had stood on the shores of Ulthan, Gorganeth had attempted to convert him once, he would be long dead by now though.

From on high he spotted a tent that was larger than the others with a banner out side the entrance; it was guarded by a score of troops and gold burnished armour. That must be the command tent! Drainial took Drachain down in lazy circles, he would meet with this Rackieth and he did not intend to wait on an appointment.

Drachain landed out side the tent with out a sound, the leader of the guards of the tent stepped forwards, there was fear in his eyes but he held his sword steadily.
“State your business here!”
Drainial didn’t even bother to reply as he dismounted. He walked towards the tents entrance. The guard didn’t give him a second chance and his sword came down in a blow that should have taken Drainial’s head off. Instead Drainial calmly sidestepped the blow and kicked the elf in the knee, the small crowd that had already gathered gave a gasp as the joint snapped audibly. The rest of the guards tried to bar his paths but just then Drachain let out a thunderous roar and all of them fled screaming, as did the crowd. Some guards Drainial thought.

Walking though the tent entrance he found two elves in conversation over a map. One was fairly tall, his armour was fairly standard for the nobility of Naggaroth and his cloak was held by a golden clasp in the shape of a skull, his features were thin his hair black, the other he was surprised to recognise, that armour and tortured face could only belong to one elf, Gorganeth! How on earth was he still alive, Drainial had not known the priest well but he was certainly curious as to how he had survived for so many millennia. He was not here to reminisce with lost acquaintances though.
“You are the one they call Rackieth I presume?” Drainial addressed this to the other elf.
“Indeed I am, tell me how did you manage to simply waltz past my guards out side?” The elf replied. Whilst this was going on Drainial noticed some other elves in the room, behind both elves stood a group of elite looking warriors, no doubt their personal guards. There were also a number of slaves and an astonishingly beautiful she elf. Drainial sensed that she was a wielder of magic though he thought that he could best her in the winds if it came to that.

“If I were you I would get some new ones, the lordling will not be walking for a long time and the rest fled when my dragon growled at them.”
“Ah I had wondered what that noise was, I assumed it was Gorganeth’s Dragon getting bored. Anyway perhaps you would care to explain why you have a Black Ark sitting half a mile away from by encampment and why you are in my tent terrorising my guards.” Rackieth replied. To Rackieth’s surprise it was Gorganeth who answered.
“His name is Drainial, Drainial Athalir. Though I am surprised to see him amongst the living, the last time I saw him was over 4000 years ago.”
“Yes indeed Gorganeth, it seems that time does not make fools of us all, only most of us,” replied Drainial “I am surprised to find you here as well. But as to why I am here I have heard that you are in need of allies to take the ruins of Tor Thana. I have come to join you.

Rackieth smiled thinly and offered Drainial a seat, he had a new ally, and Tor Thana would be his!

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Tue Jun 12, 2007 1:49 pm
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A take it the beautifull elf is Diana?

Anyway great fluff but be warned not all my guards are so weak.

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Tue Jun 12, 2007 3:40 pm
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He is a highborn with the powers of chaos in his viens and a dragon at his back, can you realy blame the guards? And yes the she elf is Diana (I don't feel right calling an elf a woman and womelf sounds rediculus)

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Tue Jun 12, 2007 4:37 pm
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Here is a little bit more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taking a seat at the map table Drainial turned once more to Rackieth,
“First I am going to tell you the terms of this allegiance.” Drainial began. “My terms are simple, I want an equal share of the plunder for my self, I want a place on some sort of ruling council when the city is ours and returned to its former glory. I want full command of my elves, you can command me but I command them. And last” Drainial smiled though they could not see it under the bird like visage of his helmet “I want a temple to my god.”
It was Gorganeth who replied “And what god might that be?” A dangerous quality entering his voice. By way of reply Drainial removed his helmet revealing his rather unusual characteristics and a strange Sigel on his forehead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I would like Gooner to write this next bit as I wouln't want to speek for your charactor, but if you could keep the bloodshed to a minimum and remember that we are going to be working on this campaign together that would be great.

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Thu Jun 14, 2007 7:29 pm
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How's this then Drainial? I hope it meets both your and Fingol's approval...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gorgoneth blinked hard as he tried to focus on the melting and warping colours of his old acquaintance’s face. He had never seen such glamour, and was briefly bewitched by its hypnotic beauty. Then his mesmerised gaze full upon the mark on Drainial’s forehead, and is reverie instantly gave way to rage. Instinctively he reached for the sacred dagger that hung at his belt, but found Rackeith’s iron grip clamped around his sword arm. The general’s eyes were still transfixed on the flowing form of Drainial’s face, but his voice was cool and measured.
“Calm yourself Priest. The Tzeentch worshipper has come to offer us his assistance, not to cause trouble.”
“We do not need assistance from his kind!” Roared Gorgoneth, tearing his arm from Rackeith’s restraining hand and drawing his rune encrusted dagger. He hurled himself at the newly arrived highborn and grabbed him by the throat, his eyes burning with fury as he prepared to plunge his blade through the hated sigil. He stared into the utterly unimpressed eyes of Drainial as he felt a pair of crossed blades at his throat. Two of Rackeith’s elite retainers flanked him, their immense blades digging into his neck. The High Priest composed himself and stepped back, raising a hand to stay his own bodyguards who were moving to protect him. With a low bow the Executioners lowered their weapons and returned to their station behind Rackeith, and for a moment all was still in the tent. With a wry smile Drainial replaced his helmet.
“Surely your mighty serpent lord could cope with a little competition? After all, your darling Morathi managed to combine an allegiance to both Chroesh and a deity of Chaos. I trust she still honours you with her affections as she did in those halcyon days on Ulthuan?” The Tzeentch worshipper grinned beneath his helmet as he watched Gorgoneth struggle to suppress his anger.
“I have not seen her for many a millennia” the Priest hissed. “I would ask what had become of you over all these years, what perversions led you to this heresy, but I shouldn’t want you thinking it was of any significance to me.” Gorgoneth sighed deeply. He had already compromised his beliefs to mollify Rackeith, was it really any more of an affront to tolerate the heretic? The ends would surely justify the means. “Very well. It seems Rackeith has deemed you worthy of joining us. I will fight with you, but do not for a second think yourself any friend of mine. Under any other circumstances you and your brethren would fall beneath my sword,”
“The feeling is entirely mutual my dear Gorgoneth.” Drainial replied. “Were it not for your part in this alliance I would gladly butcher you and all your perverted cultists. As it is however I shall control my followers. We are believers in logic and reason, and shall have no problems controlling our distaste. Can we expect the same from your rather less… ‘cultured’ forces?” Gorgoneth shuddered at the affront of it all, but gritted his teeth. He would be damned if he was going to share the new city state of Tor Thana with a follower of Chaos, but he would hold his tongue for now. If the spies reports were correct then they were going to need as much help as could be found to defeat the forces that were massing against them.
“You have my word. None who exalts in the glory of Chroesh shall lay a finger on your Tzeentch worshippers. Together we shall smite our enemies and raise our temples from the ashes of Tor Thana.” With that Gorgoneth bowed his head before returning to his seat at the council table.
“Well that’s settled then” Rackeith spoke as if addressing two naughty children. “Now perhaps we can turn our attention to the matter in hand…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Fri Jun 15, 2007 12:03 pm
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Exelent, you captured Drainial's charactor better than I could have hoped. Thanks.

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Fri Jun 15, 2007 12:23 pm
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As long as you two keep the serious scrapping till after we have captured the city then Rackeith will gladly step back and let you two rip each others guts out.

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Fri Jun 15, 2007 3:30 pm
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Here is another part dealing with the actions of Drainial's second son Girithion and Drainials attempt to take the Nemmisis crown. Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Girithion Athalir crouched behind a bush, crossbow in hand. His cloak, woven from shadows by some arcane means, made him almost invisible as it adjusted to the dappled sunlight in this particular thicket of trees. The Great forest was the first woodland he had been in for many long years and he was pleased that he seemed to have lost none of his skills. Girithion loved the woods, as much as he loved all the wild places of the world. He was eternally grateful to his father for allowing him to become a shade of the Shadow Serpent clan, the clan that had travelled with Har Atha from the very beginning. In actual fact Girithion knew that kindness had never entered Drainials head on the matter. It was simply good politics to bind the Shades closer to himself and ensure their loyalty. Never the less he would have hated to have turned out like Kilith, constantly scrutinised for any small fault and always scraping for an ounce of power. Enclosed within the walls of the throne room just as surly as a slave in the pens.

Girithion shook his head angrily. He had let his thoughts stray from the matter in hand and if he did that too often he would find an arrow in his back. Turning his attention back to the surroundings he mouthed a short prayer of thanks to Tzeentch. His pray stood not ten meters from him. Girithion’s smile faded as he realised just how close to getting caught he had been, but he had not been found and the prey was close.

Creeping forwards slowly, ensuring that not a single twig or leaf was disturbed by his passing Girithion moved; around the bush and through the trees on the blind side of the prey and upwind. When he was but a meter from his victim he stood straight and aimed his repeater crossbow at the back of a crouching elf and spoke.
“Really Alantir you must do better than this if you wish to avoid a shadow warrior putting an arrow in your back. If we were not training you would currently be putting on your best smile and trying to convince Tzeentch not to damn you for eternity.” The young shade Alantir jumped at the words, swinging his crossbow around entirely too late. Registering that it was his blood shade who spoke he lowered his weapon. Alantir’s face was a mask of bitter disappointment and inward directed anger.
“You got me again! I will never get used to the way these tree’s move! They are nothing like the ones on Har Atha.” Alantir’s voice was half whingeing half defensive. He was young, only just old enough to be counted ready for action against the Asur and he had never been in real woodland before, only the artificial training wood used by the Shades on Har Atha.
“Oh there is a message for you, from lord Drainial,” Alantir said
“Go on,”
“The message said that you are to report to him in his tent in the encampment as soon as possible.”
“Then I must go, Alantir, you will not eat tonight as punishment for being killed again.” Seeing Alantir’s face at this heaped on top of his mental anguish he added, “If you get caught stealing your supper you wont eat for the next two days!” This last in a tone of mock reproach letting the young shade know that Girithion was not entirely serious. Though he knew better than to test the blood shade.

Walking through the encampment of the rebel lords Girithion was privately impressed with the order and efficiency he saw, particularly with such foolish allies as worshipers of Khaine! How a god so barbaric and useless had secured the worship of a nation he would never know. Spying the banner of Athalir flying above a large tent Girithion began to walk towards it. If his father said as soon as possible he did not particularly care what you had been doing beforehand or where you were and it was in your best interests to be quick.

Entering the tent Girithion bowed to his father before taking a seat before a high wooden desk, the shimmering wood cut from an oak grown deep within the wastes and small amounts of warp stone dust could be seen here and there on the highly polished surface. Drainial spoke first, directly to the point and with no acknowledgment that it was his youngest son sitting before him.
“You know why we are here, I will not go into the details of Tor Thana with you now. But Tor Thana must have a ruler, a ruler capable of raising this place to a haven of enlightenment in the worship of Lord Tzeentch. And a ruler needs a crown.” Drainial began; Girithion was confused but did not interrupt. Drainial went on “My spies have uncovered some more information about why Malikith is sending so many nobles to the Old world. There is an artefact, it is known as the Nemesis Crown and it was forged over 2000 years ago by the rune smith Alaric the mad. I do not know the exact properties of this crown but that it has got the races of the world so worked up is proof of its power. It would be the perfect thing to mark my kingship over the independent Elvin state of Tor Thana.”
“What does this have to do with me father?” Girithion inquired.
“I want you to go and get it for me,”
“Just me?”
“No,” Drainial answered “You may take a force of your best shades and a company of Dark riders. The crown was last known to be in the area known as the howling hills. You leave in two days, I trust that is sufficient time?” It wasn’t really a question; Girithion knew that if he was not ready in two days he would find explaining why rather painful. Never the less two days would be plenty of time to prepare.
“Yes father two days will be adequate.”
“Excellent” Drainial replied, “You may go now.”

As Girithion left his father was already bending back to his plans. He left to begin his preparations. He cared not for the politics of the situation or of the repercussions. His father commanded that he retrieve this Nemesis Crown. And it would be done.

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Last edited by Drainial on Mon Jun 18, 2007 3:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.



Mon Jun 18, 2007 11:44 am
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You have excellent style to write, but sometimes things like

Drainial Shadowheart wrote:
The crown was last known to be in the area known as the howling kills.


make me laugh when it isn't meant to (in a serious text.) If you spell-check the text those won't happen, and your text will be even more enjoyable to read.

Otherwise, a nice story. Particularly like the reason of wanting the crown- Drainial has a clear goal in his mind.


Mon Jun 18, 2007 2:29 pm
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Damn it, I do spell check its just some times things like that slip through the net, any way heres the next part, its basicly the same meeting coverd by our vampiric ally when she meets Rackeith, Gorgoneth and Drainial.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“My spies have uncovered some thing disturbing. It would seem that the false elves are sending an army against us.” Gorganeth said, well there was a cheery start to a meeting if there ever was one.
“How large a force?” Drainial asked
“They could not ascertain the exact numbers…” Gorganeth began
“Approximately, a legion? A company? Surly they have some hint.
“I am afraid they did not give any such indication,”
Drainial opened his mouth for another barb but was interrupted by Rackieth
“Could we at least try and be civil? Now Gorganeth, continue.” Gorganeth inclined his head in thanks and went on
“As I was saying,” he began, giving Drainial a glance that should have left a smoking crater in his chest “The Asur have mobilised an army against us. There fore I recommend that all troops begin polishing their equipment and practise parade marching.”
“Why on earth should we waste so much time and effort on such a thing?” Lord Shadowheart asked, distain dripping from every word.
“Because it is necessary, “Lord Shadowheart”, that the armies will disembark when the time comes as one, in rank, and march as one body, in order to strike fear into our…”

How dare this impudent cultist speak so to the chosen prophet of Tzeentch? Drainial showed nothing of his bristling rage on the surface, though he ensured that his next words were suitably venomous.
“I must ask that you respect my title, Gorganeth. It is mine by right. And I confess that I fail to see the “necessity” of the massive amounts of time and effort, just to present a pretty picture for the Asur; assuming they come”

Gorganeth was clearly incised by this but before he could speak Rackieth once more intervened.
“Lord Shadowheart, it is my recommendation that you do not question the reliability of the High Priest’s spies. If they say an army has been dispatched from Hoeth, it has quite certainly been sent.”

Impudent whelp! How dare this lowborn scum speak so to him! The heathen priest looked fit to dance around the room!
“Although it is remarkable that they were able to give no indication of numbers at all. Even a simple “lots” would have been of some help. Instead we have, “army”. What does that tell us?”

Well the young lord wasn’t all bad. Drainial settled back to watch Rackieth tear a strip from Gorganeth’s ego.
“Nothing at all, other than that we have to make preparations against the false elves. I never doubted that we should. All in all, perhaps the most pathetic piece of espionage in our history.” “However, let us not get mired down in argument, insult and rivalry. Instead, let us look at the …”

He was interrupted by the tent flap opening to admit a young elf of Rackieth’s forces accompanying some human female, what in the name of the changer was going on here? What ever it was it did not seem to be of Rackieth’s doing, a supposition proved by his next words.
“Why in the name of the bloody handed have you brought a slave here?”
The guard began to answer “She is…” But then he seemed to look to the human for guidance or permission! Drainial’s astonishment only rose as the human answered in perfectly understandable Druhk-Eltharion
“Go on. You can probably explain matters better than I.”
The guard looked as though he would rather try reciting poetry to a Khornate warband than do so but he went on none the less.
“My Lords Rackieth, Shadowheart and Gorganeth. I present Milady Lisa von Kahajen, Knight of the Order of the Blood Dragon….” Up to this point, the three lords were still somewhat confused at why the guard had interrupted them in order to talk about this slave. The next and final title he gave however, made all three of them sit up and take note, shock and bewilderment all over their faces.

“Mistress, and one of, the Vachi Caerthal”

A vampire! In the name of the changer whey did it have to be a vampire. He was grateful that his armour disguised a look of fear and anger that had momentarily broken through his façade of tranquil aggression. A vampire here, he had never met a vampire that had not tried to kill him and many had come far closer to achieving that end than he was at all comfortable with.

The guard had quite sensibly removed himself leaving the vampire alone in front of the three lords, then she smiled showing her protruding fangs, this only made Drainial more uneasy, although she was probably simply showing them that she was what she claimed vampires did not usually show their fangs unless they were ready to feed. She spoke again.

“My thanks. Now then, let us not mince words. You have assembled this force, with the intent of taking control of the site known as Tor Thana. You intend to establish a city-state, independent of Naggaroth. That is correct?”

The Exile Lord bowed. None of the Druchii showed any surprise at her knowing this. If she did not know their goal, she would hardly be here. A harsher note creeping into her voice now, the Blood Dragon continued telling them what she knew.

“Well, Hoeth has the same goal as you, and they intend to back it with force. An unparalleled expeditionary force has been dispatched from Ulthan, and a full Legion from that force is coming here. They outnumber you by at least two to one. Your odds of victory in this matter are beginning to look much smaller”

A legion! Drainial rubbed his helmeted head with a clank before he managed to catch himself, he was only slightly mollified by the way Gorganeth slumped back into his chair looking like he had been pole axed, an intriguing notion that.

“Whilst you have sufficient troops to oust the various groups clustered around the Tor, you have not the numbers required to out fight a legion of Hoeth. Even assuming more support comes; two to one was assuming the least number of troops sent possible. I am near certain that the Asur will still outnumber you even if you gain more generals to your banner”

“That is why I, and my companion, Tillmann Spyri wish to join you in your fight”

NO! He could not allow such a thing! He started to speak
“Absolutely not! I refuse to work alongside a …”
He was interrupted, however, by the priest.

“You forget yourself, Shadowheart.”

The voice of the high priest of Cheoresh interrupted the master of Har Atha. Calm and collected, Gorganeth smiled like a Cold One at the other lord, and spoke with a mocking tone in his voice, much to the fury of the other general.

“It is not our part to make rulings as to how this group operates, Drainial. It is Lord Rackieth’s decision, in his role as commander of our group, to decide as to who shall join us. We have no say in the matter, as you should know.”

The Shadow-lord glowered with pure hatred at his opposition. The master of the cult of Cheoresh smiled, and (knowing rather well how far he could push the other lord) suggested a compromise.

“As it happens, we have had a somewhat fruitless meeting, and it is neigh time for Kreash, a small service in which I should, by our rites, deliver a short address to my followers. Let us withdraw for now, and leave Lord Rackieth to make his decision on the matter. When we return, perhaps we may be able to accomplish something.”

The armoured figure of Lord Shadowheart nodded, and rose along with his rival, much calmer now.

“Fairly said, Priest of the Serpent Lord. I’ll take my leave too. It has been a long council”

His odd, yet elegant armour failed to made a sound as he walked towards the exit. At the tent flap, he stopped, and turned to the three figures still within.

“My apologies, Lady Lisa. If Lord Rackieth judges you worthy of the true kin of Aenarion, perhaps, before too long, this council may finally be in a fit state to draw up a plan.”

With a smile behind his helmet, he withdrew. The master of the Cult of Cheoresh followed, but, as with his predecessor, he turned back to the pair within.
“I hope that you find this human worthy of standing with us against our false kin, Lord. She seems one admirably suited to doing so.”

As Drainial walked out his mind was already churning out plots, if the vampire wished to fight along side them she would have to swallow the same bitter pill as Gorganeth, and having one capable of binding spirits would certainly be useful…….

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Mon Jun 18, 2007 3:12 pm
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Cold One Knight

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Neat. I like how you fill out the conversation before the whole thing started. Well done.


Mon Jun 18, 2007 3:22 pm
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Malekith's Personal Guard
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Not planning a coup are Drainial

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Mon Jun 18, 2007 3:41 pm
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Prophet of Tzeentch
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Well we will just have to see how this all pans out but suffice to say that Drainial does not like to stand for second best, on the other hand he wont move unless he is fairly confident of victory, having the Nemisis crown would probobly make him confident enough but unless some thing else drastic happens (lets face it the chances of GW desiding that Drainial ends up with the crown are none existant) He will probobly stay loyal.

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Mon Jun 18, 2007 3:46 pm
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Cold One Knight

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True, the odds of him getting the Crown are low, but don't rule it out entirely. We don't know where the crown is, but it's possible that the goblin ended up in the Tor. We don't evan know what mechanic GW have for controal of the crown.


Mon Jun 18, 2007 3:50 pm
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Prophet of Tzeentch
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The chances of a race like the dark elves geting the crown are not high as they would use it to great effect changing the warhammer world and besides I will be suprised if Drainial is ever specificly mentioned in the offical background let alone reciving the crown.

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Tue Jun 19, 2007 12:35 pm
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Cold One Knight

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Now, you see. That's what chaos worship does to you, it makes you a cynic :P

Youre probably right, but we can still hope for mentions.


Tue Jun 19, 2007 1:00 pm
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good stuff

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Tue Jun 19, 2007 4:35 pm
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Prophet of Tzeentch
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Oh I am hopeful that as a whole we can get into the offical fluff I just realy doubt that any one charactor (with the possible exeption of Rackeith) will be mentioned specificly.

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Wed Jun 20, 2007 9:38 am
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Hmm, i thought i had commented on this fluffy before? Anyway, Very good story. Keep it coming, plus you've encourageed me to continue with my own fluff.

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Wed Jun 20, 2007 11:01 am
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