Dark times, Nemesis crown Fluff. LONG.

Talk about all aspects of the Nemesis Crown summer campaign here

Moderator: The Dread Knights

Tilmann spyri
Cold One Knight
Posts: 242
Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:59 pm

Dark times, Nemesis crown Fluff. LONG.

Post by Tilmann spyri »

Chapter One; Nearing journey’s end

The Riek flows hard and fast in this place. The Talabac and Delb join it near here, and the waters of the river flow strong all the way to Altdolf, the grand capitol of the Empire.

But it is upon the great forest, that dark place in the centre of the Empire, that the eyes of the world were turned. And it is towards that forest that our eyes must begin to look. But for now, it is the nearby Riek that concerns us

Beside the riverside, there is a well-trod cobble path. As it is the way to Altdolf, it is much travelled during daylight. At this hour however, there were but two people walking along by the riverbank. In these times even the heart of the Empire is far from safe. These two have had a long road.

One was on horseback, and was evidently a knight of some sort, although most would not be able to place the order this warrior belonged to. The other was a human figure, which was draped in a cloak, which, although a dark shade of green rather than a black, seemed to blend in with the dark night.

They had parted ways a few weeks ago, and had re-united some little way up the road. There were no surprised happy greetings, this reunion had been planed. The only acknowledgement the rider gave to the cloaked man was a short pull at the horses reins, so as the animal went only at a trot, and the man in the cloak could keep pace.

The cloaked figure was indeed human. A young man of Averland, Tilmann Spyri was in many ways a normal son of the empire. In his twenties, Spyri was the younger son of a middle class trader family. Black haired, with calm blue eyes, and no obvious scars, he could be perfectly at home almost anywhere in the Empire.

The only thing that was odd about him was one you could not put your finger on. You could not help but be slightly uneasy in his presence, and your gut feeling would not be at fault

Tilmann Spyri was a Necromancer.

“Were you successful?” Spyri was not surprised at the question coming out of nowhere, he was accustomed to his companion, and attempting to follow the latter’s trails of thought gave him a headache.

“I fear not. The witch hunters are out in force. One of them turned up before it was complete. I was compelled to flee.”

“Ah. Irritating. That will prove problematical.”

“Has Wholfe faired any better?”

“Yes, surprisingly enough. That compensates for your own failings in part, but we still do not have the force I could wish for. Not that that matters much”

“You have news from the council?” Tillman asked eagerly. He was expecting much from that conclave. In this, as in many things, he was utterly unlike the rider, who never expected much from anything.

“Not explicitly. Wholfe’s skills at writing shorthand leave much to be desired.”

The Knight sighed. It had taken some time to decode any of the man’s writing

“However, there is something Wholfe is excited about. Something about a sparing match…”

“Ahem”

The young Necromancer looks questioningly at his ally, who smiled thru the helmet.

“Go on, Tilmann. Ask”

“Why did you not attend the council yourself?”

The warrior laughed

“Whilst watching Reynaud, or Von Strhal or whoever else took our seat irritate the Carstains would have been worth the time, I would prefer not to be bound to the Council.”

The Necromancer looked incredulous. The council was the largest gathering of the Bloodlines ever attempted. In response to the Mage’s unspoken question, the vampire smiled and answered simply

“Because I do not believe they will succeed.”

“Why no… Ah.”

Realization dawned

“Precisely. Whilst Sylvania’s army is strong, its generals are rarely unified. I doubt this will last.”

“So why do we go to assist them?” asked the Necromage “A sense of duty? The compulsion to fight for your kind?”

A bitter smile crossed the face of the warrior, Countessa Lisa von Kahajen.

“Good friend, you look one of the line of Abhorash, a member of the Blood Dragon order. A knight, in some shape or form. I find acting as the sword arm of the Von Carstain line a demeaning role. It lacks honour. None the less, I will fight by the side of the armies of Sylvania for now. It is a chance to gain some little glory in battle.”

“For now?”

The Blood Dragon smiled at her oldest, and most trusted ally.

“Oh come my friend. What more would you have me say?“

The two laughed at that, and then the pair continued into the night, passing into the region of the great confluence, and cementing their little part in the strange tale of the folly of Alaric.

The tale of the Nemesis Crown.


Chapter 2: Shadows of a Vampire war.

The confluence was tempting to the Blood Dragon. The locals told of a large Orc movement in the area. A great Warrrgh from the south, neigh on a migration was coming, lead by a Black Orc Warboss, Garazad da Mitey. They had even managed to form some sort of alliance, as they were marching alongside the Dawi Zhar, Some of the locals even told of some great fire-spiting machine, called the Vicinerator, that the eastern dwarfs had gifted to the Orcs. This place would soon hold challenges more than worthy of a Scion of Abhorash.

The western Dawi predictably had reacted with a massive counter movement of troops. Their Gyrocopters were cutting threw the sky constantly, it was a rare hour on the road in which Tillman and the Countessa could not spot at least one. Atop that, they seemed to be marshalling Rangers to the area. The Dwarfs were everywhere. When the two companions stopped at an Inn, a party of dwarfs were toasting the health of a “Lieutenant Az Barag” of the Royal Gyrocopter squadron. The rangers interrogated them several times on the road (doing a far more effective job than the Imperial Road-wardens.)

The Asrai too were preparing to halt the Orc advance. There was some area known as the Green Heart that they were trying to defend. All in all, the place promised to soon be in a state of total war.

A battleground worthy of Abhorash mused the lady knight. Truly a place in which skill at arms could be homned to a fine edge. However she had been told to report to one Vincent von Carstain in the area around the Tabelclad Border. Unfortunatly, she was compelled to leave this most promising battlefeild, as she could not afford to work against her kin.

It was against her will that she saddeld her mount, and allong with Spyri headed northwards, along the Talabac road towards the Last Chance Inn, there to meet with another old ally.

***********************************************

“He what!”

The Last Chance Inn was exactly what you’d expect from the name. No one here seemed to care about the three strangers whispering (mostly) at a table in the corner, everyone in this dingey little place had secrets of their own. And the three strangers did not look like anything unusurall. Just two warriors in heavy armour, and a man in a cloak. Most of the patrons of the bar had other buisness, such as returning to their homes, or camps before nightfall. Even bandits lived in fear in times like these

Wholf was a loyal Thrall who oftern acted on behalf of the Countessa in the courts of Silvania’s true rulers. He was once a member of the Hunters of Sigmar, an order of Forester Knights.Wholf’s rebirth at the Countessa’s hands was relitivly recent. He could still guide horsemen safe thru a forest though, and was in command of Lisa von Kahajen’s Black Knights.

“He assumed control of all forces in the area, with the “blessing” of the council, they now fight to expand it to the Empire, in his name.”

“That would not go down well. Even with such promises, that would be badly received.”

“A shadow council is already meeting. The consensus amongst the Kindred I have talked with seems to be that they will expand, and permit him to think he is in command, but that once his work is done, that it would be best to turn on the Necrach lord, and claim the new territory for Sylvania”

“With the same old technique?”

“Precisely”

Wholfe rose, and started to walk towards the door whilst talking. A habit remaining from his mortal life.

“So; let us be off, it is still some way to the Talabac border and Vincent von Carstain”

Lisa von Kahajen had not stirred at all from her seat. Any expression of happiness was gone from her face. She spoke now in dreadful earnest

“I do not intend to report to this “Vincent von Carstain”.”

Wholfe was taken aback

“Why not?”

“Because it will be far safer to stay out of this whole affair”

Seeing Wholfe puzzled, the lady knight sighed, and gestured for him to resume his seat. This he did, but still clearly not understanding what the Countessa meant

There was a silence for a moment as Lisa von Kahajen collected her thoughts.

“Waldakir is of the second sireing, correct?”

“Correct” Wholfe didn’t bother asking the Countessa how she knew that. Although she professed distaste for intrigue, she had a tendency to remember the relative power of the stronger counts and lords. It was a talent that had saved her neck before now

“Such a one as he would not bother with so blatant a revelation of power unless he had no other choice… Or no longer had need to fear retribution.”

“With due respect Lisa, Necrachs hardly count as sane” The former Hunter of Sigmar scoffed.

“True Wholfe. But mad does not equate to stupid. Now think. Either, Waldakir is desperate enough to take such steps with so little decorum, or he has some source of power of which we do not know. The first is unlikely, as there is little that could leave a second generation in such fear, so assuming the second to be true, an attack on Waldakir could have serious consequences. Warpspit; this could set off a full on war between the bloodlines, especially if Waldakir has support from other Vampires too”

Lisa glanced at her thrall, who nodded.

“A little. Not nearly as many are with him as are against him, but a notable few are truly fighting in his name. One with his power is often seen as worth of respect.”

“So there you have it,”

Von Kahajen smiled, but it was devoid of humour

“This whole affair is going to end up insanely dangerous, as only our kind’s intrigue can, and working in any way with the armies of Sylvania will no doubt draw us into it. The safest thing to do is for me and Tillmann to busy ourselves on some other matter, and for you, Wholfe, to pretend you never made contact with us. Tell anyone who enquires that we are currently on the trail of... Abhorakh Solomar, and that you were unable to locate us.”

Wholfe rose. Even in death, he was still a solider, and knew the value of swift obedience

“I will ride now to inform this Vincent that I could not find you. With a war to manage I doubt he’ll be over bothered at your absence. Consider him deceived, milady”

The Thrall strode out of the room, with a worried expression on his face. He disliked such politicking as much as his mistress but he knew full well where it was necessary.

“And who is Abhorakh Solomar?” The dry voice of Tillmann, who had been silent so far, was finally heard

Lisa shrugged

“A Chaos champion, I believe. One of the locals…”

She pointed to the collection of rough-looking bandits, thugs and layabouts seated at the bar.

“…mentioned his name. He is supposed to be most powerful, with a whole order of chaos knights at his back. Some are starting to hail him as one greater than the Lord of the End times”

Spyri spat

“Whenever a Chaos host is active in an area, its leader is haled as a new Dark Lord. It is the natural reaction for humans to ascribe to those who defeat them power beyond that which they posses.”

“Your words hold some truth, Tillmann. But all the same, from what I hear Solomar is a formidable warrior, hear with a purpose, and has a large army at his back to see it through. He would seem to be a force to be reckoned with.”

The Lady Knight sighed

“Such a man would be far more than a worthy challenge of my skill at arms. It is a great shame in my mind that I cannot go looking for him”

“What will we do?”

In answer, the blood dragon took out a battered scroll case from her back, and unfurled the map within, placing it upon the table. An elf a few tables away looked up, but soon returned to his drink.

“This was given to me back in Sylvania, shortly before I left on this journey. There are armies massing across the whole of this forest. Take your pick as to the spot we travel to, but we will not find ourselves short of battle."

Tillmann studied the map with care.

“What about this place?”

He indicated a strange symbol on the map

“This surely does not represent a city

Lisa looked where he pointed.

“No, I remember some one, a member of the Gesalt Order, telling me about that place. It’s an elven ruin, haunted by their dead it seems. Tor Thana”

At this, the cloaked elf that had been seated a few tables away pricked up his ears. He moved over to join the pair in the corner, much to their surprise.

““Excuse me, but did I hear you speak of my people’s old city; Tor Thana?”

The elf had the voice and dress of a scholar, but he positioned himself so as the light from the window was behind him. Tillmann Spyri knew that old move, and what it signified. He smiled, and just as the Countessa began to speak, he gestured for her to halt.

“Indeed we did, my friend. But what business is it of yours”

“You need not worry” The elf replied with a breezy smile that would strike most as utterly sincere. But not Spyri. He already knew the game the “stranger” was playing. If he did not however, he might well have been deceived.

“I am only seeking to ensure your safety. A large force of the Druchii has gathered with the intention of marching on that place. It will be far from safe” The elven scholar spat. “A plague upon the dark ones”

“Ah, then you are in luck my good elf. Tell me, did you hear me mention the Gesalt Order talking to me about this ruin”

Von Kahajen had caught the game, and was willing to play to the hilt

The elf smiled back, unaware that the tables were about to be turned.

“I fear so. Forgive me.”

“Of course.” Lisa beamed at the stranger with the happiness of a predator with it’s prey in sight

“What are such matters between friends? Anyway, what I meant was that you have cause for rejoicing. That order informed me that a considerable force had been dispatched, from Hoeth no less, with the intension of routing those Druchii near the old Tor. So you see everything worked out right.”

The elf’s face was a picture of surprise and fear.Just for a moment, but it was enough, and the elf knew it. That was all the confirmation the duo needed. This was a spy.

“Now then, whoever you are. I think you owe us an explanation. You are Druchii, correct?” Spyri’s calm words did not befit his expression, which was one of total rage. The Dark Elven spy nodded, pretence gone.

“Yes. I am Hetiahn, once of house Shadowbane. Assassin of Khaine’s temple in Naggaroth. I am now however, to monitor movements in the region, in service to the rebel lord Rackeith”

“And this Lord Rackeith…” The Knight’s words were more a question than anything else. The assassin understood.

“is indeed the commander of the forces prepared to take the old Tor. He plans to establish a city-state, no longer under the rule of Malikith”

“That is good. You see, in case you did not bother spying on us for the duration of our conversation, my friend and I” She gestures to Tillmann “ have decided to pledge the forces at our disposal to your Lord.

“Wha…”

This time it wasn’t only the former assassin who was shocked. Tillmann could barely believe his ears either. The assassin of Khaine however was simply stunned at the good fortune.

“How large a force do you command? And why have I not heard…”

“You can not be serious.” The necromancer interjected. “Ally with them?” He was clearly reeling from the very idea

“Why not?” asked the Lady Knight

“They serve Chaos. That’s why not.”

Before the now furious scion of house Shadowbane could interject however, the Countessa rebuked her friend herself.

“They do not serve Chaos, Tillmann. They use the Dark arts true, but so do we. All magic is binding Chaos. The only time such magic does spread the taint of Chaos to an area is when it is performed in the name of the Powers of the wastes; in the same way that the gods grant magic to our priests. The Druchii have no truck with those entities, correct? She turned to Hetiahn, who nodded, mollified somewhat.

“Quite correct.”

The Necromage was not quite convinced.

“This is all only theory on your part, mi’lady”

Lisa winced at mi’lady; she disliked reminders of her past life.

“True Spyri, but it seems reliable, and I am prepared to act on it.” The other reason the pair had for wishing to serve the Druchii was kept quiet by both of them. With a little luck, the dark elf might not have heard their discussion with Wholfe.

“Very well Mi’lady” Tillmann Spyri sighed. “I’ll play it your way.”

“Wonderful” The Blood Dragon smiled quite sincerely this time. Not at the resolution of the argument, but more at the old, old act that the pair were about to perform, for the benefit of their new friend.

“You asked me of the army I command, friend assassin? Well, it is but a small if formidable, elite force for now, but when we reach this Tor…”

Suddenly, the assassin could see fangs elegantly protruding from the lady Lisa’s now half open mouth. Turning to her companion, he saw Spyri’s hand engulfed in dark energies. Smiling, the Necromage placed a finger to the table edge. The wood turned to dust, ageing millennia at a touch.

“As I was saying,” continued the Lady Lisa, not bothering to withdraw her fangs. “When we reach the Tor… well, our force may expand somewhat.”
Hetiahn, once of house Shadowbane, knew somewhat more than his fellow Druchii, when it came to the inhabitants of the old world. He knew well the power necromancers and Vampires could wield. Smiling, and pretending to be jaded and un-surprised at the pair, he smiled

“I understand perfectly. I am sure Lord Rackeith would be happy to welcome your forces to our efforts in the reigon. Especially if what you say is true about our kin ”

“Perfectly true” the Lady Knight had retracted her fangs now, and to all intent and purposes, seemed much less threatening. However, the assassin was still far from resting easy, he knew how strong a threat a Vampire posed.

“Then, if you permit, I will take you to him now. His camp is some distance from here” The assassin stood, and the two companions followed his lead.

“Come lady, come gentleman. My lord awaits.”
User avatar
Fingol23
Malekith's Personal Guard
Posts: 842
Joined: Mon Jan 08, 2007 3:13 pm

Post by Fingol23 »

Great story, one small request though don't kill of Hetiahn as he seems quite a cool character and I recently aquired the shadowblade model and need someone to use him as.
WIP First War Against Chaos Expansion
http://www.druchii.net/viewtopic.php?t= ... e7da5c4719

WS3 / S3 / T3 / D4 / I5
Skills: Basic Stealth
Items: Short Sword, Repeater Crossbow, Shade Cloak
Tilmann spyri
Cold One Knight
Posts: 242
Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:59 pm

Post by Tilmann spyri »

of cource not. Truth be told, I wasplaning to keep the guy arround anyaway.

BTW Fingol, do you want to write up the meeting, or shal I ?
User avatar
Fingol23
Malekith's Personal Guard
Posts: 842
Joined: Mon Jan 08, 2007 3:13 pm

Post by Fingol23 »

You can do it but I would like to see it first
WIP First War Against Chaos Expansion
http://www.druchii.net/viewtopic.php?t= ... e7da5c4719

WS3 / S3 / T3 / D4 / I5
Skills: Basic Stealth
Items: Short Sword, Repeater Crossbow, Shade Cloak
User avatar
Drainial
Prophet of Tzeentch
Prophet of Tzeentch
Posts: 4641
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 3:51 pm
Location: I am the voice inside your head

Post by Drainial »

I liked the first part and I liked the second part even more, your necromancer might be intrested to know that at least one of us worships Tzeentch.
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

Arch Deacon of the RPG forum
Gentleman of Moderation
Tilmann spyri
Cold One Knight
Posts: 242
Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:59 pm

Post by Tilmann spyri »

I know. Vampire Counts are really Anit chaos, and I had to mention somthing before having them join a faction that is (quite unjustly IMO) oftern accused of chaos worship.

Chapter three will have cameos from your fource, and that of Gorgoneth. And they will allready be at logerheads. :P I'll leave it up to you to decide wether it is just confined to the pair who make an appearence, or towards your whole camps.
User avatar
Gooner
Corsair
Posts: 97
Joined: Sun Apr 15, 2007 10:55 am

Post by Gooner »

I really enjoyed that story, was excellently written. What do you reckon Drainial, do our armies dislkie one another or just our generals? My feeling is that it would be the whole armies, as you have said all your forces are Tzeentch worshippers and all mine are poison worshipping deranged lunatics.
User avatar
Drainial
Prophet of Tzeentch
Prophet of Tzeentch
Posts: 4641
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 3:51 pm
Location: I am the voice inside your head

Post by Drainial »

I think the armies would have a fair bit of animosity, but if you keep yours more or less inline I will tell mine that if they get into fights I will let you handle them, that would be deeply unpleasent for any elf. We could probobly have the odd fight in the fluff though.
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

Arch Deacon of the RPG forum
Gentleman of Moderation
Kaihlik
Cold One Knight
Posts: 231
Joined: Sat Mar 04, 2006 9:54 pm
Location: Glasgow, UK

Post by Kaihlik »

Good story Tilmann but you are not going to have that many friends, a Tzeench worshipper and a bunch of Malekith loyalists who are probably not going to be to happy about a Vampire about. On the other hand it will make for plenty of interesting stories.

p.s. please don't eat me :P.
User avatar
Drainial
Prophet of Tzeentch
Prophet of Tzeentch
Posts: 4641
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 3:51 pm
Location: I am the voice inside your head

Post by Drainial »

I dont think that most Druchii would have much of a problem with it, they might feel a little uncomfortable but to them she is a little more might with which to crush the Asur and they are probobly aragant enough to belive that they can easily despose of her when the time comes.
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

Arch Deacon of the RPG forum
Gentleman of Moderation
User avatar
Fingol23
Malekith's Personal Guard
Posts: 842
Joined: Mon Jan 08, 2007 3:13 pm

Post by Fingol23 »

After all which vampire is going to betray an army capaable of shooting a hundred stakes into her in less than a minute?
WIP First War Against Chaos Expansion
http://www.druchii.net/viewtopic.php?t= ... e7da5c4719

WS3 / S3 / T3 / D4 / I5
Skills: Basic Stealth
Items: Short Sword, Repeater Crossbow, Shade Cloak
Tilmann spyri
Cold One Knight
Posts: 242
Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:59 pm

Post by Tilmann spyri »

Seriously, you've not got to worry about betrayl. Blood Dragons don't go back on their words.
User avatar
_maelstrom_
Shade
Posts: 123
Joined: Sat Apr 07, 2007 9:36 pm
Location: Wolverhampton, UK

Post by _maelstrom_ »

very good story Tilmann, i like it alot, the way you have portrayed the assassin fits right in with their character. keep up the good work, i look forward to the next part.

cheers,
Tilmann spyri
Cold One Knight
Posts: 242
Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:59 pm

Post by Tilmann spyri »

Chapter three; The camp of the Exile Lord.

Hetiahn came up, out of the shadows of the trees, and walked, coolly and confidently thru the rain towards the gates of Rackeith's camp. It was fortified and well too, managing to be both aesthetically pleasing and defendable. Their skills at woodwork rarely had chance to be shown, but the Druchii were every bit the equals of the false-elves in that regard. Given time their structures could easily surpass those of their kin. And Rackeith had ordered the fortifications upon their arrival. Even though he had not yet learned of the news Hetiahn brought, the rebel lord believed firmly in precautions. Every eventuality was accounted for. The belief in such measures had served him well back amidst the domains of the border princes, and Hetiahn, who actually felt some loyalty to the renegade commander, believed firmly that they would serve just as well here.

Still, the assassin couldn’t help but worry as he drew close to the gates. With all the many groups active in the region, Rackeith had bargained on some interference from the Asur. But a full legion? The rebellion, which whilst strong, and possessing many capable commanders had (unsurprisingly) no backing from Naggaroth. And they were going up against Ulluthan’s finest. They were going to have to be at their very best to withstand the gathering tempest.

And we can start here. The servant of Khaine reflected as he approached the gate. It is part of the training of an Assassin to be able to deduce things from minor points in their surroundings, and between the appearance of several Black Arks along the river, the sudden expansion of the camp, and the way in which the two guards on gate duty were bickering, it was really rather obvious that new forces had aligned with the Lord Rackeith.

One of the guards, although new, Hetiahn recognised from his own years in Naggaroth. It was Tharii, of house Shadowheart. That was a surprise. It was rare for her house to leave Har Atha. Tharii would be dealing with it better than most however, as she had done minor business for her house in Karond Kar, at the same time the servants of Khaine were training Hetiahn in their small temple there. The Once-Assassin smiled a little as they remembered their past “relationship”. Most inappropriate.

“Any outside thoughts are a sin against our lord. An Assassin of Khaine should be focused at every moment on their magnificent duty, their only thoughts reflections on the glory of the bloody handed.” Drivel. Such focus detracted from the perception of surroundings, and that was far more likely to get you killed. A witch elf may place faith first, but the Assassins should use their skill to honour Khaine, not just their fervour. The Order was in danger of turning into but another group of fanatics prising idiocy over ability. That little disagreement was one of the reasons Hetiahn no longer served the Church at large.

At present, his former love seemed to be lamenting the twist of fate that had reduced her to gate duty, the persistent downpour that showed no signs of abating and the very existence of her companion. That elf, the assassin did not know by name. But his hearing was good, and she soon identified her fellow sentry as Slerac, servant of Choresh. The chill that would have gone down the spine of most Druchii at the mention of the Cult of Choresh did not affect the assassin. For all the differences he had with the others of his order, Hetiahn retained the ability to be untroubled by almost anything. He was slightly intrigued however, at the fact that members of that cult no longer bothered with house names. He had not been aware of that.

A step in the right direction at any rate. The assassin hardly needed to concentrate to avoid the sight of the two argumentative guards, the darkness, and the rain saw to that.

Without making a sound, the assassin was behind Slerac. With a pair of clean, perfect cuts, one straight along each forearm, the guard was down, in a rain of blood. Before his old flame could react, Hetiahn brought his knee up, catching her smartly in the stomach. The sentry doubled up in pain, and as she tried to rise, Her old love made a hand strike to her throat. Without a word she fell, loosing consciousness.

“All right, let the gate down.”

As Tharii fell to the ground, the gate descended. Behind it stood a group of the Vanakat, Rackeith’s personal guard. They had once served as members of the executioners themselves, though that order’s actions had ended up forcing them to leave their brotherhood. They still curse the day they called the Vatii, in which they forsook their dedication to their blades and training for mindless, savage debauchery. As with the Assassin, they believed that their art, and skill at arms were superior to decadence and simple fanaticism. The former scion of Shadowbane tended to get along with the Vanakat; and he could not help but agree with them on most things. Distaste for their Lord’s Haraen for example.

They were in full battledress too. Their amour was kept in good condition, through the efforts of Anixi, the camp’s high priest of Vaul (who insisted upon the title, in spite of the army only having one other priest of Vaul). Their leader was truly well known to Hetiahn. Moving with surprising speed for one in full armour, he knelt and checked the bodies of the two sentries

“I can’t believe you, assassin.”

Hetiahn adopted an expression of pained resentment, as the Vanakat commander rose. He didn’t bother to try and make it seem sincere though. The old veteran could see thru him like glass.

“What, am I not allowed to teach them a lesson for arguing whilst they were supposed to be keeping a lookout?

The Vanakat commander didn’t respond. Instead, he barked

“Get this one inside, to the infirmary” The guards responded quickly, a pair of Vanakat picking up the still bleeding Slerac, leaving the unconscious Tharii where she lay. ”Take what you need to pay off the healers from his pockets. You can keep the rest. Call it a fine.” Smiling at the unexpected bonus, they carried the Chorite off into the recesses of the camp. “Sinrula, Tjiki; you two take what’s left of this watch” An idea struck one of the pair he indicated. He whispered something in the Commander’s ear. The Swords-elf laughed heartily at his underling’s words.

“Why not? Teach her a lesson.”

Giggling slightly, the pair walked past Hetiahn taking up position as sentries for now. Kazakha, master of the Vanakat Executioners then turned back to the servant of Khaine, smiling still. Somewhat belatedly, he answered the question of the former member of House Shadowbane.

“No, I’m just surprised that you didn’t finish them off. That was abstinence of duty, sure as the sight of Ghrond. I would have had them myself but…” He spat “They are not under my command.”

The face of the Assassin did not share the veteran warrior’s smile.

“We will need every blade and repeater we have, old one. Summery execution won’t do any more”

“Indeed, it will not.”

All the Druchii turned at the voice. They saw a human woman, for some reason in full armour, striding towards them.

“Ha, our slaves come to us now it seems”

The blade of young Sinrula was drawn as he spoke, a laugh in his voice. The Dark Elf turned to face the coming human. One of the Executioners was about to move to assist him, but Kazakha motioned him to stand still. The youngest of the Vanakat flexed his blade as the stranger approached, his smile beaming with all the confidence of the blind.

“Now then, woman, surrender or I wi…”

It was so quick; a human would not even have seen it. The master Executioner was most impressed at this one’s speed; the others were shocked, speechless. Hetiahn showed no reaction, for once, simply because he had none to show. He had expected something of the sort.

The Executioner stood disarmed, his blade cleaved in two, the lady’s blade at his throat. Not only that, but this sword was glowing with an ice blue aura, and those present could swear they heard a whisper on the wind, even when the blade was held still. This weapon was clearly magical

“This is a Frostblade, Druchii. It hungers for souls, it can tare through armour, even such armour as yours, like paper and the slightest scratch can leave you very, very dead. I recommend you to not make a move.”

“Indeed.” A second figure strode out of the darkness, this one seemed human too, but wore a simple green robe and cloak. He appeared unarmed, though after the first stranger, the executioners were far less quick to challenge these people.

“This is a most strange way to treat those who come here to ally with your forces.”

The Vanakat were dumb struck. On the one hand, the Druchii allying with humans was so inconceivable as to be laughable. However, the speed at which the Lady Knight moved marked her as something more than human. They turned to their master, who in his turn looked at Hetiahn.

“Well, o Once of House Shadowbane?” The old veteran looked daggers at the Assassin

“They came immediately after you. Do you know anything about these…” He searched for an appropriate word, and finally settled on “strangers?”

Hetiahn sighed. This was not a good introduction from either side. The only thing that he could be thankful for was the little matter of language. Kazakha’s words were spoken in Drukh-Eltharin, and the Assassin of Khaine too held to that language.

“Yes. They are commanders of a most powerful nature, in fact even perhaps nigh elven level of greatness. They…”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The dark elves stared once more at the knight who was holding the youngest executor’s neck almost, but not quite against her sword. This stranger was to say the least an interesting individual. Even Hetiahn was somewhat taken aback at his new allies command of the elegant Druchii tongue, and his skill at concealing his surprise was not quite so complete as normal.

“You know Drukh-Eltharin?”

The warrior smiled.

“Indeed, though my command of the language is of course, notably inferior to your own. As an aside, may I let this somewhat overconfident elf go?”

Kazakha nodded. At the chink of his helmet upon his armour, the Lady Knight released her blade, letting the unfortunate Sinrula fall to the ground and spun to face the Vanakat Executioners. Curtseying, as if she were appearing before a foreign court, she addressed the Swordsmasters.

“Druchii, I am Lisa von Kahajen, knight of the Order of the Blood Dragon. As you may have guessed, despite appearances, I am far from a normal Warrior. The term for my kind in your language would be I think … “Vachi Caerthal”. Walking dead. Well, there are less kind ways of putting…”

Suddenly, with speed the more realistic Druchii doubted they could match, von Kahajen spun round, whirls jumping back and slightly to her left, just as the errant Sinrula lunged at her with the remains of his sword ‘s blade. With a somewhat brutal finesse, she brought the butt of the sword down upon the back of the Dark Elf’s head. The young Executioner lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious as the rain continued to beat down.

“As I was saying,” continued the Blood Dragon. “I am Vachi Caerthal. But I am more than that. I bind the dead to serve as an army. So does my friend here” She gestured to the cloaked man, who had watched these proceedings with a bemused eye. ”He is Tillmann Spyri, and he is my aide and confidante. The two of us wish to offer our services, and army, to your Exile Lord”

The Executioners were still trying to adjust to the Lady Knight’s identity. They had heard of the Vachi Caerthal, of course. There was no one in the world that did not know of the walking dead. But to have one offer an alliance?

Kazakha however was harder to surprise. The old warrior had seen many things in his day, and knew how to keep a calm head. He raised his voice in an inquiry

“And how can Lord Rackeith be sure of your loyalty?”

“A strange question from a Druchii. But rest assured; the word of my order is its bond. We do not rescind from oaths given.”

The master executioner glanced at Hetiahn, who nodded.

“What she says is true. Her line is noted for the fact.”

The master executioner of the Vanakat nodded, his face impassive. In truth he was impressed by this “Blood Dragon” She showed such skill at arms that he would consider her a more worthy pupil than most of the Vanakat. Indeed, she may well have given him a challenge.

“Very well, Caerthal. You!” He barked at one of the guards operating the gate, who bounded to attention.

“Yes, Master Executioner?”

“See that this Knight is taken to Lord Rackeith's tent. At once. She has business to discuss with our master.“

“It will be done. Come mi’lady.” He beckoned to Lisa who, with a quite genuine smile at finally having reached her objective, followed the guide through the shadowy camp. The vampire dealt with, Kazakha turned to her companion.

“As for you, Spyri, My own aide, Kilana will prepare you accommodation”

He gestured to a moderately comely elven female who had watched the scene from a table within an open tent near the gate. Like all the inhabitants of this camp, she was fully armed and armoured. Tillmann bowed.

“Thank you, mi’lord”

He, in his turn, followed Kilana into the dark recesses of the encampment

Kazakha paused for a moment, slightly pleased at being addressed as mi’lord. Then he remembered the words that had started this whole affair. With an extremely calm face, the master of the Vanakat turned to Hetiahn.

“As for you, Servant of the Bloody-handed, what were you about to say before all this started?”

The Assassin looked nervous, a rarity for his order. None the less, he calmly gave the old Swords-elf what he knew.

“ Nothing less than a Legion has been sent from Hoeth, with the intent of taking the Tor. The times ahead will not be easy. “

“A... legion!” The executioner’s face was a picture in surprise and anger. He managed to calm himself however, and actually smiled at the scion of house Shadowbane.

“The Chroeshi’s spies said that a host was being sent from the white tower, but a full Legion? Such a force will be a true test of our skill”

He beamed at his executioners, who were not taking this so well. They were more than equal to their Asurite counterparts of course, but numbered far less. They were going to need to be at their very best in the coming days. Considering that, the old veteran was willing to stretch a point.

“In these circumstances, although debauchery can not be condoned as a rule, I think a bottle or two of Naggarochi wine in my room is in desperate need of opening. Anyone care to join me?

The cheers of the executioners, a rare sound indeed, met his ears. As the men talked amongst themselves, moving slowly in the general direction of their Master’s tent. Kazakha, laughing and smiling with his sect, who he had trained, fought beside and backed in any endeavour was about to go off to the generals tent, to give the executioners there permission to fall out, and to order some common guard to fulfil the now necessary task of guarding the generals (mostly, the Swordsmaster smiled, from each other) when he noticed something. The assassin was not there. Hetiahn usually accompanied the Vanakat executioners in all things. Where was he?

Looking around, he saw the adept of Khaine standing out by the river. He seemed somewhat preoccupied. He was looking for something on the horizon. The Swords-elf came up beside him and, looked where the assassin’s eyes seemed to be.

“It’s a long way off. But it’s there.”

The veteran Executioner didn’t jump at the assassin’s words. Instead, he redoubled his efforts to see what ever it was that the assassin could. But his eyes were not the equals of those belonging to an adept of Khaine.

“What’s there? “

“Another Ark. The Blood Keep. I’d know it anywhere. I can’t see the colours, but that one was always unique in design.”

“Who’s is it?” The veteran Elf never really paid much attention to politics. His companion however, had learnt of many of the Druchii Houses in the temples of Khaine.

“House Fellblade’s” he answered without a single hesitation.

“What are they doing here?” The master executioner was a tad surprised.

The Khainite shrugged “Your guess is as good as mine. Best to be ready though, I think.”

Kazakha cheered up a little “We will be. Your news saw to that. But for now, old ally, come join us. That wine is in need of drinking.”

With a smile, and a laugh, the two Druchii returned to the camp, leaving Tjiki outside on watch. The army of Rackeith had weathered much in the borderlands. They had seen off Orcs, Dwarfs and worse things. Whatever the future had in store for their little band of rebels, they would meet it in the true way of the sons of Aenarion.

With a blade in hand.
User avatar
_maelstrom_
Shade
Posts: 123
Joined: Sat Apr 07, 2007 9:36 pm
Location: Wolverhampton, UK

Post by _maelstrom_ »

brilliant Tilmann, you write really well, thanks for the mention to.

my armies colour scheme is black armour with gold on the very edges, with robes that are painted shadow grey, followed by a higlight of that mixed with white. Elite stuff and characters have more gold on them.

hopefully that will help if you want to describe them at anypoint

keep up the good work

cheers,
Tilmann spyri
Cold One Knight
Posts: 242
Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:59 pm

Post by Tilmann spyri »

Thanks for telling me. BTW, you've got executanors too right? Regular executanors are under the overall command of Tullaris of Har Gaenth (Unless he's been deposed again recently.) He tends to be rather the opposite of the Vanakat, more like the Witch elves than anything. And one of the Vanakat is still on gate duty.:) It's up to you how you want to play that in your fluff, but it's a little thing that might prove interesting.
User avatar
_maelstrom_
Shade
Posts: 123
Joined: Sat Apr 07, 2007 9:36 pm
Location: Wolverhampton, UK

Post by _maelstrom_ »

yh ive got regular ones, they are under the command of Alrek but hes on orders from Tullaris, I may write up a confrontation, but seen as my army is loyalist it may b a bad idea as you lot may decide 2 just kill all me leaders lol.
Tilmann spyri
Cold One Knight
Posts: 242
Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:59 pm

Post by Tilmann spyri »

No, I didn't mean an outright fight. Just angry words, and prehaps at the end of the campaign, a deul between Alrek and Kazakha. Noone else in your army need get involved, as this is a purely sect based thing/
User avatar
_maelstrom_
Shade
Posts: 123
Joined: Sat Apr 07, 2007 9:36 pm
Location: Wolverhampton, UK

Post by _maelstrom_ »

sounds like a good idea, could have an argument then Kazakha could come over to see whats going on. him and Alrek could take an instant dislike to each other. The duel sounds like a very good idea that i may well use whether we are successful or not.
Kaihlik
Cold One Knight
Posts: 231
Joined: Sat Mar 04, 2006 9:54 pm
Location: Glasgow, UK

Post by Kaihlik »

Great story Tilmann. Really looking forward to seeing how it progresses.
User avatar
Gooner
Corsair
Posts: 97
Joined: Sun Apr 15, 2007 10:55 am

Post by Gooner »

Really enjoyed that Tilmann, really good stuff.
User avatar
Drainial
Prophet of Tzeentch
Prophet of Tzeentch
Posts: 4641
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 3:51 pm
Location: I am the voice inside your head

Post by Drainial »

Good story and thanks for the mention. Oh by the way I wouldn't have to many of my elves having been seen in Naggaroth, Drainial does have businus there and makes it his bussines to know whats going on but Har Atha its self has not returned since its maiden voyage over 4000 years ago (and just incase you dont know that means that no normal elf will have seen it there as they will be dead.

By the way my armys uniform is deap blue and silver with the mark of Tzeentch on the sheilds and the banner of Athalir on the banners (thats a heart clenched in an egals talon)
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

Arch Deacon of the RPG forum
Gentleman of Moderation
Tilmann spyri
Cold One Knight
Posts: 242
Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:59 pm

Post by Tilmann spyri »

The guy was suprised at her showing up. for an assasin, that's about the same as being struck dumb with astonishment.and let us just hope that my guys don't look at your sheilds before I (somehow) break his following Tzeentch to them gently.
Tilmann spyri
Cold One Knight
Posts: 242
Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2007 3:59 pm

Post by Tilmann spyri »

Ok. this took a while, but I wanted to try and get all the generals right. Any problems with them, just tell me, and I'll change it.

Chapter 4; The Council of the High Shadow.

The three great rebel lords of the Druchii who commanded the armies now readying to take Tor Thana were seated around the grand gold embossed dark-wood table in the Exile Lord’s tent. Together, they were a council of war, as evidenced by the maps and charts of the area around their goal that covered the table. In fact, by Druchii standards, and considering circumstances they were a remarkably efficient command. In spite of differences that at one point had them quite literally at each other’s throats, the two generals who had come to the aid of the Exiled Lord had actually managed to co-operate enough to begin to draw up a plan of some kind. Of course, in spite of their best efforts to be polite to each other, the council was still a long way from being harmonious.

The commander of the Cult of Choresh, the much-scarred Lord Gorgoneth, was speaking derisively to the Lord Drainial Shadowheart, his counterpart in many things. In a suit of elaborately crafted armour, engraved with gold carving, the slightly more relaxed commander looked at his rival lord with a stare of mild loathing, which the latter utterly failed to care about.

“…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…”

“I must ask that you respect my title, Gorgoneth. 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”

Rackeith sighed; it had been a long meeting, and Druchii politics were always exhausting. With these two, however, it was near essential to keep atop of them. That meant maintaining some kind of equilibrium.

“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.”

The Priest of Choresh looked smug, whilst the armoured lord of Har Atha started to look angry. Before he could comment however, Rackeith aimed another few barbed words. But this time, he directed them to the now smiling Lord Gorgoneth.

“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?”

The Lord of Choresh spluttered, evidently about to make some rebuke, but Rackeith spoke first, with speed well befitting a Druchii.

“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.“

The master of the Cult of Choresh was now the one looking angry, whilst it was the turn of the Shadow Lord to be mildly amused. Rackeith, happy that the two were once again perhaps ready to actually agree on something, returned to more important matters.

“However, let us not get mired down in argument, insult and rivalry. Instead, let us look at the …”

The tent flap opened, and a low-ranking guard came thru, and, although slightly glad to be out of the downpour outside (which had lasted far longer than it should, Rackeith noted. An imperial weather mage in the area? We shall see.) the elf was obviously worried. Following him was a human woman, in dark, poorly woven, clothes. The generals were surprised to say the least, at something so seemingly meaningless, and pointless. Extremely annoyed at the interruption Rackeith curtly addressed his soldier.

“Why in the name of the bloody handed have you brought a slave here?”

“She is…” The guard was about to speak, but then looked at the lady, as if requesting confirmation. She nodded, and to the shock of the generals, replied in Drukh-Eltharin.

“Go on. You can probably explain matters better than I.”

The elf did not look grateful for this delegation. Struggling to muster his words, he began.

“My Lords Rackeith, Shadowheart and Gorgoneth. I present Mi’lady 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”

At that, the guard, with a tactful silence withdrew. It was enough for the Dark Elven generals to get the message. Vachi Caerthal. The Walking Dead. It was indeed rare for Druchii to encounter their sort, but they were far from unknown to the elves of Naggaroth. After all, the Undying were heard of in some shape or form the world over. They needed no rest, showed scant mercy. Their armies grew with every corpse. And now a Lord of their kind, a blood drinker, Vampire in the tongue of man, stood before them. She smiled, and, for effect, let her fangs protrude from her mouth, ever so slightly.

“And my greetings to you, great Lords. I shall come straight to the point, but first, may I take a seat?”

Rackeith nodded, and Lisa, still with fangs slightly visible, pulled up an unoccupied chair.

“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 Ulluthan, 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”

Amongst nobles, there is an art to being told information by another, which you did not wish to hear. You should assume a neutral expression; look calmly at the person who is talking to you, and proceed as if nothing was wrong.

The Druchii generals, for all their aristocratic manner, were unable to take this news in that way. Shadowheart groaned, and his armour clanked as he rubbed his hand to his helmeted forehead. Gorgoneth slumped in his chair, as if someone had stuck a knife thru him. Rackeith came out the best of the three, managing to at least appear calm, though it was evident that he was disturbed by the news.

“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”

The three lords were quicker on the uptake than most of the executioners had been, the Lady Knight reflected. The utter surprise on their faces at the stranger’s true objective in this matter only showed for a second. Then, the armoured fist of Lord Drainial Shadowheart (Odd design, even for a Druchii. Almost clawed. Any point to the motif, wondered von Kahajen as she watched) crashed into the table. Even thru his ornate helmet, his anger was clear.

“Absolutely not! I refuse to work alongside a …”

“You forget yourself, Shadowheart.”

The voice of the high priest of Choresh interrupted the master of Har Atha. Calm and collected, Gorgoneth 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 Rackeith’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 Choresh 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 Rackeith 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 Rackeith 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 Choresh 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.”

With that, the “Avatar” of Choresh walked away, back to his section of the camp. The vampire, utterly taken aback at this unexpected display of sympathy, stared at Rackeith, who answered her unspoken question with a grin.

“Because he knows, that for some reason, you put Drainial’s nose out of joint. The two have been bickering since they arrived.” Rackeith leaned forwards, seemingly at his ease, towards Lisa, interest in this potential ally clear upon his face.

“Perhaps you can serve as a balance between them. But first, I have to ensure your worth. “

The Exile Lord of the Druchii rose from his seat, and started passing along one side of the command tent. After a few steps, he started barking questions at the Lady Knight, as she sat.

“Firstly, can you bind other dead to serve in battle?”

von Kahajen was ready for this.

“Yes. And so can Spyri.”

Rackeith did not halt, on either his pacing, or his inquiries.

“How long does it take you to do so?

“No great time. We are used to performing the ritual many times over the course of a battle.

“Have you such an army with you?”

“We have some forces here, but not a full complement. It is hard to get such to where it is needed, even in these times. However, there are so many dead, I can begin expanding the army at the end of the meeting.”

“There are dead here?” The exile sorcerer was surprised, the vampire smiled

“This is the old world. There are dead everywhere.”

“One thing more. “ Rackeith returned to the ornately carved seat that showed his status as master of this group. He continued talking as he sat, his eyes never moving from the Knightly vampire.

“You claim to be a swords-master of kinds, a warrior. What kind of blade wielder is it that comes into the tent of a commander of an army…” He leaned back, tilting his head up for a moment, looking relaxed, sounding relaxed, but not quite somehow being relaxed.

“without armour or weapons?”

Lisa beamed, as she replied to the dark elven general

“Firstly, the guard who showed me the way would hardly have let me bring my blade in here. Secondly, if I entered in armour, your guards would probably assume me to be a threat. And finally…”

Without pausing to draw breath, Lisa von Kahajen jumped from her chair, spun around, and wrenched the blade from the hands of the unfortunate guard who Rackeith had signalled with that minor head movement a few seconds earlier. With a singe movement, she had the edge of the sword at the soldier’s neck. Keeping it there, she addressed Rackeith, fangs fully drawn now

“Because I do not need either.”

She let go of the guard, throwing his weapon down beside him. The Druchii scrambled, picked it up, and then hurriedly left the room, desperate to be away from this fanged daemon.

Laughing, the Exile Lord stood, and walked over to the Lady Knight.

“You are indeed worthy of standing by the side of the true sons of Aenarion.”

He put his hand to her shoulder in a gesture of acceptance, evidently most pleased at his new general. The Lady Knight curtsied, as a noble lady should when being honoured. Rackeith continued.

“Indeed, I offer you and the companion you speak of, the same terms as the other generals who have joined us. An even share of the plunder, and a position of power in the Tor once we claim it. However, I do not know your motives in the matter. Whilst I know enough of my own kind to be able to be at least reasonably sure of their intent, and can turn it to serve my ends, I have no such guarantee from you”

“True enough”

The Blood Dragon reflected for a while, and then thought of something. Her face brightened as she replied to her new ally’s fears.

“Very well. I will assure you of my loyalty”

She knelt on the grass, and much to Rackeith’s surprise, began to recite.

“As a knight of the great Order of the Blood Dragon, I, Lisa von Kahajen pledge myself to the service of you, Lord Rackeith, for the duration of the war to claim Tor Thana. This vow, I swear on the name of Abhorash, sire of our line and greatest of our order, and may final death claim me if I depart from my word.”

The Exile Lord was overcome by surprise. A knight, sworn to his service? He examined his new ally, trying to find some insincerity upon her. But he saw nothing but truth and honesty in those eyes, and the voice agreed with it. This oath meant everything to the Blood Dragon. She would not rescind from it.

In anyone else, such honour would strike the sorcerer as foolish. But not from this one. She somehow gave the impression of honouring it, not simply for the sake of doing so, not out of blind obedience to a code, but simply out of respect for what it represented. It showed on her face that she would not break it frivolously, or indeed at all if it could be avoided, but when necessary, when something broke the spirit of the code, but not the letter, she would act outside it without a second thought

Yes indeed. Rackeith could respect the idea of such a code in that light, even if he did not agree with it.

“Rise, Lisa von Kahajen. I accept your service, and do you honour for giving it.”

However, Rackeith spotted the omission in the oath. He was, after all, a Druchii.

“I can not help but note though, that you have given me no assurance as to the time after the battle”

The Lady Knight laughed. She had made the oath with that in mind

“The armies of the world have come to this forest, Lord. Battles will be fought here, of a size unparalleled. And I have a small stake in them. Depending upon the result, I may not stay in the Tor after this war is over. If I do, then of course I shall renew my oath of service.”

“Reasonable enough” Rackeith, Exile Lord, returned to his seat once more. With some pride, he addressed his new vassal.

“Go now, Lisa von Kahajen. There is little point to a council of war with just the two generals. Find quarters for yourself. I will send a messenger for you when this council is resolved.”

The Blood Dragon bowed, and was just about to leave, when a final word from the Exile Lord stopped her.

“Oh, and I think you will have few problems with other Druchii. Word of your treatment of that guard will have spread. Fare thee well, Knight of Abhorash”

“Thank you, sir”

The vampire bowed, and then withdrew, leaving the Exile Lord alone in the darkness, amidst the maps and charts of war.

The Druchii smiled. With such allies as this, even if all the hosts of Hoeth came, he would know little fear.

In the midnight of the tent, Rackeith laughed.

“Let the Asur come.” He thought to himself. “We shall be ready”
User avatar
Drainial
Prophet of Tzeentch
Prophet of Tzeentch
Posts: 4641
Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 3:51 pm
Location: I am the voice inside your head

Post by Drainial »

I like this story, it will certainlay be an intreting next council. If you have no objections I will write up this encounter from Drainial's point of view.
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

Arch Deacon of the RPG forum
Gentleman of Moderation
Locked