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Malekith's Best Friend
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Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2003 9:21 pm
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Location: Training to be a cage fighter
Howdy all. I had the nerve to begin a story. I am sure I will continue to flesh it out when I have the time. I look forward to hearing back from you all on the contents.

28 NOV 2010

Today was one of the last on a short voyage from Naggaroth for Stryleth. Such a voyage usually took a few weeks but this one was different. Taking the usual route would have put them closer to the hated elves and would slow them down with their roving coastal patrol boats. No, this one was taking the Dragoth straight into the human slaves. Slaves that would not know what hit them in the dead of winter. Such an exercise was dangerous at this time of year. With foraging to a minimum it would be necessary to carry the strike force quickly and then return soon to their home. It was a risk Stryleth was willing to take. Knowing that what awaited him as he returned might not be as troublesome as his wretched kindred who were making off with his estate after his father had a fatal accident.

The ocean foamed about the bow as it cut through the water like a sharpened blade on a weak slave. It was beauty in knowing he would be making this trip to find his rightful place. If everything went well he knew he would return a well furnished Druchii back to the place his hated kin had ripped from him. As Stryleth looked across at the Dagger's Heart he could see his only son, just a young 225 years old, searching the void as he was. Stryleth knew his son had aspirations for his own place and family. He knew that Letharion had killed his older brother to retain full ownership once he killed his father. It was something that he knew he would have to watch closely in the following weeks of the raid.

Returning to the cabin to ascertain if the stars were keeping them on course brought another note to light from his ill-trusted assassin. It would seem that he had heard a few of the corsairs talking about skimming profits from the voyage. Nothing really he should be concerned with right at the moment but something he'd have to watch as they got closer to Naggaroth. He also noticed how clean the room had stayed. Something was amiss and he needed to find out who was scanning over his plans and almost encouraging his anger to rise above a normal level. He expected this kind of deviance from his lesser nobles but wasn't ever trusting enough to let them see his plans he had always kept on him since the beginning. It was something he learned from his oldest sibling that had an unfortunate turn at the wall of his now lost home. Something he wished he could have done better as it was only his sixth time to kill. His father was furious that his eldest had met his death so horribly especially when it was
almost inconceivable he would have jumped from the wall. Several centuries had passed and now he was in the same problem his father had been in. To let his son kill him or kill his heir apparent.

Walking to his bed he pulled the drapes aside to see his favorite gown laid out perfectly. It was a unique gown because it kept the bearer from being wounded by poisons or so he was told. Some hag had presented it to him the last voyage he had went on some five years ago. It was something that most would not have seen in their lives. It was something that had kept him warm many nights and would continue to until he found something more unique than this. As he lay down to imagine about the upcoming raid he knew that he must find Letharion a new home, or risk death, or to kill him outright and be rid of his heir apparent for another one of his younger siblings. It was all coming to a point that a choice would need to be made and made quickly. The rock and crash of the raider ship Dragoth placed him soundly to sleep and for the first time in a while he knew exactly what he could do to fix all his problems.

An unusual creak awoke the veteran Druchii immediately from slumber. Someone was at his door and he knew not who it could be. Wondering and waiting for the attack never came. The steps moved on to the lower deck and for a moment he released his tensed grip from his throwing blade he always kept with him at night. Suddenly a knock at the cabin door and a name that was from the lesser nobles brought him fully awake. It was Lentithier who had made a name for himself on this trip by actually putting up his own home as collateral for the raid. It was something that stank of stature but was tolerated as this was one of many younger siblings from a house that had been destroyed by his own family in a feud that had lasted for a short two centuries.

Lentithier came in lithely on his haunches pretending to be lower in stature than he really was. As an elf this creature had a stature of a rising giant, however his words were always slow but always weighted in more ways than one. It was Stryleths judgement that he had a dangerous elf on his hands that could be manipulated lightly to do what was needed when he needed it. Stryleth knew that Lentithier could always be counted on to become hated by anyone who did not see things the way he did. Lentithier walked in only a foot or two knowing what awaited if he tried to come any closer. Lentithier spoke with a slow mechanical spatter about his Cold One in the hold beneath the deck. It seemed that it was coming to a boiling point and wondered if the Cold One would need to be put down as it was becoming a bother to the others, more so that usual.

Lentithier then spoke "Your lordship should become acquainted with my younger brother Soloeth. He has come along on this trip with a promise of finding a slave or two to buy his way out of a bad habit of promising young elf maids more than he owns. It is something that has become quite a bother to my father and his wife."

"Soon we will all meet with more heads to bring back than the holds can carry. It will be my pleasure to ensure he can receive what he is owe." Knowing full well his words would meet the right demands it was a banter he cared not to do late at night.

Lentithier bowed and graciously let himself out of the room with his back to the door. Something he thought every smart Druchii should learn sooner than dead. Soon, sleep came back and without any mention of the first dawn he was asleep.

First light shone and it was apparent there would be landfall soon. It was a good feeling for Stryleth. Knowing that he would soon make or break his fallen name from the storied histories. Would this put him back above his enemies and place him closer to attaining greatness with his lord?

As dawn continued to break across the horizon the ocean could be seen to have changed into shallower waters. As was expected, his scouting vessels were returning. Awaiting on the boat was his trusted shades. Shades always seemed never to want to do much except slit throats and kill. He would have to watch them so that they didn't take good flesh to be stricken by their differing views of Khaine. Knowing his unnamed assassin was inside this tight knit group was a good thing. If only to keep an eye on things ahead while being able to sneak around at night without having questions arise as to the why.

Hearing the good news that the slaves along the coast were a dreary and sleepily lot made for less of a trouble. After hearing all the reports he needed he began laying out his plan to secure the beach and then to move quickly inland before any wandering patrol fell upon his strike force. He ran up the flags to give the most direct and succinct commands to the other vessels to prepare their disembarkment. Once securing this he was able to move about more freely and let his ship captain take control of the downloading process.

The boats slowed to allow the slower and larger slaver vessels to come closer. Making land fall with shallow draft boats was easy. It was completely another thing to download all the cargo and be able to not get caught with your undergarments around your ankles. Dragoth was the first ship to enter the beach at high tide. It was his sole insurance to continue pushing with his supposed lead from the front tactic. It would make his other lesser nobles take heed that he was leading and they would follow his commands.

His ship held only a few Cold Ones and his own personal mount that had been trained within his own keep. It was a beauty to behold his dark pegasus. Such a nasty brute could only be controlled by himself and the beastmaster. Never the one to be outdone. He only allowed them short amounts of time to keep their contact with his own personal ride to a minimum. It would be a shame if someone slipped a few extra commands that may play out in the wrong way for Stryleth.

Letharion could be seen across the way working with his captain to ensure his dark rider's would be downloaded the quickest. It was always up to him to ensure his entire area around his contingent to move with the quietest way. It was also in his understanding that it was he who would be expected to know the layout of the land and always have a way out. Knowing this made Letharion an extra bit of headache but at his young age it was necessary to put him within precarious roles in order to see his leadership come into play.

Lentithier aproached him from the rear, something that never boded well with Stryleth. How that elf moved so lithely with his body never ceased to amaze Stryleth. "Is everything well as planned Lentithier?"

"Yes my lord, we have begun the disembarkment of the Cold Ones and will be done in two hours" spoke Lentithier.

Stryleth already knew the time it would take but didn't press the issue that they should be able to do that within one hour. He would wait and see if his knight's commander would be able to handle the rigors of a slave raid and not an all out war.

Boats continued to download their troops and soon the beach was teaming with life moving further inland to where a nice hill that was surrounded by trees stood. His scouts had begun to come back with further information that a small town militia seemed to be stirring from their homes. They had not tried to reach anyone and had probably not understood the importance of trying to reach help. The precision his troops were downloading was a testament to their years of hard service under his command. Many had seen combat across the globe with short stints serving him in the swamps, mountains and various other land formations. It was always his wish to never use their lives unless absolutely necessary. Each one knew their mission and would execute that mission to the fullest. He had always seen to it that they felt he held them in high regards. Even if they knew their lives meant only what he had decided for them.

Within four hours his ships were complete and pushed back out to sea. Only left a few smaller craft were left and had a small contingent to hide and if necessary take him back to safety if something should arise. With his nobles gathered around him he quickly laid out the plan to follow along an old unused lane and take a small town by surprise that ran along the river that the slaves called Reichsmarch. It was a small quiet stream during the winter and swelled beyond recognition in the rainy seasons. He knew that if he could cut off the lone bridge crossing the river and to take the river boats by surprise not a soul would know he was there until his group was well gone.

The column quickly formed and all the elves were prepared with little command. They knew what needed to be done and done quickly. If there were elves with light feet he had picked them. The corsairs would fall behind his command but far forward as they would have little chance to range too far and cause any issues with the Empire slaves that lay along their path. His crossbow elves would be right behind the corsairs for to allow for a quick blocking force to retreat or to push forward in case of an attack from the rear. His knowledge of these elves was somewhat mixed. Had they not saved him many times before he would have left their worthless hides at home.


The light shone bright above their heads with clouds forming to the East meaning there would be a storm coming. It would also mean that they would be able to move further and have less trouble with roving garrison patrols. He knew that as soon as he made it within the seventy-five mile mark he would be able to bring his scouts out further and have less chance on meeting any defense.

Their first stop took them within a few miles of a small slave hamlet that was set in front of the mouth of the valley he would be travelling up. This hamlet would need to be passed without being seen and would also mean that on the return trip back this area would need to be secured in case of any attack from his rear. It would also provide for easy slave replacements for those who were bound to die on their return trip.

The scouts returning spoke of earthen works and a six foot wooden wall that had two gates. One opening up to the valley and the other on the opposite side facing his force. It was approximately another 20 miles to reach the hamlet but it would suffice to allow for his scouts to find the easiest access to the valley. Waiting meant it would leave his men time to begin to building their love of traps for forces they could lay easily and still retain their lightning fast pace that so
many races could never keep up with. Even these weak horses they bred meant little for the swift feet of the Dark Riders.

Caltrops and all manner of lighter steak type equipment was strapped to the packs of his foot soldiers. It was these he expected to continue their work even after stopping on long marches such as these. Letharion rode back with his riders to report a small contingent from the local large town was approaching from the north. It was large enough to cause him pain and to raise too many other towns in the area. It would seem that his best chance was to chance either a southerly or northerly route around the hamlet. It was certain that even though his scouts had not returned that it would be better to move south because the riders were coming from the north.

With the orders given his troops began a quick flanking move around the hamlet and tried to outpace the enemy. As Letharion continued to send runners back to report it would seem that the local lord had only wanted to take a ride. The slave lord was continuing and was now well past the hamlet and travelling down the same road as his force. As Letharion tried to ensure their tracks were covered it was quite useless and had made the lord quite anxious to meet this contingent
that was to his fore.

Not wanting a fight as early as his first day, it would be necessary to either find another route, spring an ambush, or return to the road completely making a loop and then travelling to the north of the hamlet. Knowing his troops could continue at this pace for two to three days he gave the order to take the closest route and return and make a strategic indirect move and then slip past their pursuers in
the dark of night.

The column then took to the first road and as they were beginning to turn his forward scouts reported a large caravan of some kind of peddlers had been travelling in the same direction as he was. It would only be necessary to send his son to continue on this road to marry their two travelling ruts to ensure it looked as though the peddlers had made his tracks. It was a worth gambit; with one half of the Dark Riders making for the peddlers and another small portion to
cover their right turn into the next lane ensured he would not be
followed. Knowing the lordlings of this area well he knew that most were not accustomed to the cold and would therefore try not to find anything amiss as it were.

As his troops passed by in the quiet he could here to muffled laughter of his enemies beyond the trees. It only continued intermittently and could hear several cough from what seemed to be a sickness of some kind. Letharion returned from his mission of completing the tracks to the peddlers and reported his troop had also covered their change in direction so well the lordling had not even glanced at the side lane
once. It was in gratitude a sly smile reached Stryleth's lips. It
was with this small affirmation his soon beamed and continued to move forward to provide frontal security again.

His scouts continued to move throughout the day. They had attained a resting place in a small burned out homestead. It would seem this area had been hit slightly by the last Orc incursion during the summer and the occupants had either died or decided to move to safer environs. It was a good choice that was set closer to the beginning of the northerly range of hills that slowly began the step toward mountains. Being but a newly developed valley it was mostly free of
large towns but held the best slaves because these were the hardy kind of humans. These humans always seemed to fight the best as if they had something to live for. If they only knew exactly what they were going back to they would never allow themselves to become the very slaves they should be.

Making small fires on the opposite sides of the burned out buildings afforded his elves a bit of relaxation they were doubtlessly going to go without for several days yet. It would seem that the locals had yet remove the scattered foodstuffs for the animals. Since his was lacking, it was only necessary to send out small parties of forages to reap the benefits of such laziness. If there was only half a brain in one of these weaklings they never would have stood for so much food to
be left untouched and unmoved. There must be more reasons the humans should leave this very place untouched, shouldn't there?


Pickets had been placed in the shadows as the chance for surprise was high being so close to human slaves. They always seemed to blunder in to things any real druchii would only make their first 100 years of life. Such foolishness always played in to hands when he was slaving. It was a good amount of time before the moon shone through the clouds that had been forming all day.

Suddenly a muffled sound, gurgles and bones being crushed brought his eyes open and his blade from underneath his sleeve. It was coming from the furthest picket line that was thin due to the nature of the trees and weather. His orders had already been brought to bear without speaking them. His foot were preparing a square formation and with the corsairs as a thin skirmisher line hiding behind the closest cover they could find. It would allow the enemy to come close with bolts hitting them as they came. The corsairs had a nasty business of taking care of the rest even if they were pure-professional slavers.

A large lump flew from the area the sounds had emanated from. As it arced it's way towards their main position the repeater elves executed a volley as it hurtled toward them. It landed well in front of the line with fifteen to twenty bolts sticking through the mangled body of what once was his picket. Quickly the closest corsair searched the body and reported with hand signs back to him personally. It would seem the body had been ripped asunder and was left more so pale than was a normal druchii tone.

His only enemy to be known to take such a short amount of time was those indiscriminate vampires! Why one would be staged out here was beyond him. As his first line of repeater elves moved outward he could feel a surge of disdain for this ugly beast. It must be a nasty Varg, a beast who had the unfortunate loss of discipline for himself. Such a beast could handle several elves but he had no such time for this. It was uncanny to see the limp elf with little to no blood pooling under his worthless body.

Another scream and yet another body flew into the circular defence around his burned out house. Still his position was still quite strong for such a vampire wouldn't dare enter this much of a force unless a death wish was warranted. Without warning the horn of Lentithier's riders could be heard crashing through the whitened forest. It was the sound of thuds and a crashing and cursing of such a disciplined force. He only wished he could see the last battle this monster would have. Wheeling and hearing the continued charge; it was then that a roar as such he had never heard issued from the beast! Was there more to be had from this carnal beast?

Cries of pain now lept from the lordlings as a rider had been taken down. It would seem the riders were less than capable and after issuing only succinct orders his foot now drew up into the battle that raged ahead of his vision. It was after hearing the release of another crossbow salvo that he now moved his son to a further flanking move while still holding a few in reserve as a precaution for any surprises this dreadful night.

Shields began to rupture as a clawed beast filled with red hate in it's eyes! Time slowed as he moved his mount closer to the ravenous slashing and hacking that continued with each druchii strike upon the weakened animal. It would seem he just wouldn't die. The melee continued only a few short minutes and had now been drowned out by the whinny of his dark riders returning from their continued scouting mission. It was now he had to bear the breaking news he had dreaded from the beginning.

Another contingent of shambling hordes had begun a march from further into the hills and woods. Stryleth had to decide to either begin his retrograde or become ensnarled in this petty squabble over slaves with some incoherent fake everliving corrupted slave.

"The Cowards never came, the Weak died along the way, the Brave arrived, the Tough remained." -unknown American pioneer
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Last edited by Dictator on Tue Dec 07, 2010 3:04 pm, edited 4 times in total.

Sun Nov 28, 2010 5:56 pm
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Joined: Mon Nov 01, 2010 9:05 am
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Location: A torture dungeon in Suffolk
To let his son kill him or kill his heir apparent

ahh, the age-old dilemma.

nice story, I like your writing style, can't wait to hear more!

Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.

Sun Nov 28, 2010 9:12 pm
Malekith's Best Friend
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Location: Training to be a cage fighter
Lentithier looked across the battlefield and all the destruction the raging vampire had caused. One of his nobles would now be walking the rest of the way and another would be finding a warm home as he would be burned for fear he would come back as a wight or zombie.

The foot fared better and would only need a few mangled shields fixed and patched. It was a great feeling to see the bloody corpse hacked to bits for fear he might have enough strength to return for vengeance. Lentithier turned his mount towards the oncoming horde of zombies and would begin allowing for the rest of the force to retrograde on to the road and further inland. Being down to only five Cold One Knights was a detriment to holding off any more large contingents, but using his regiment soundly could still bring the force back completely intact.

As he heard the forces begin to march off into the night the sounds of sloshing through the snow soaked mud could be hear fore and behind his small contingent. His Knights begin to reform and position themselves to have enough room to begin moving towards the awaiting enemy. Maneuvering within the woods would still be easy with the trees still dispersed far enough a part that he could move around for a second and third charge. As long as the zombies came straggling in he would still be able to meet each foe separately.

Stryleth was pulling his force out quickly. He surmised this would be the best way to get out with most of his force and still retain the ability to capture plenty of slaves. The weather was becoming worse by the moment and the air seemed to crackly with magical energies. The frozen Northern wastes must be getting stronger by the moment. The portents of this evening were starting to look grim for his light force. If only he would have brought more heavily armored troops he might have been able to stave off anything larger than what he had expected.

Getting back on the road was the easy part. His scouts had not been able to push further down the road and were fanning out behind his force. He was taking a gamble by not placing them in front but it must be done. He couldn't stand having the noblemen coming with any sized force at the moment and would need his ears focused behind him to keep the enemy slaves off his tracks. Pushing quickly the road would take a quick turn to right and would then level out further into the valley floor. It should take him directly into the town his force would be focusing on for their raid.

As the troops drearily moved ahead the columns slowed as half of his force was past the curve and the rest were in the middle. Runners quickly came back to report the gypsies caravan that had been moving ahead of them earlier that day was blocking the road. One loan warrior was seen in front with wearing full plate and a double handed sword slung across his back. He road to the forefront to surmise the enemy to his front.

With his drow eyes he looked past and saw that this character was quite something more than the foolish varghulf they had witnessed earlier in the evening. As the snow began to fall heavier the chance to see anything past the road and the gullies running alongside it were slim. He took a chance and pushed his repeater crossbowmen forward as he made his way forward. It was a mistake he would learn soon enough about.

With little prior movement the warrior lunged forward at a full sprint and then dug his fully plated legs into the earth and sent himself into the air and towards his formed foot. As the foot tried to brace themselves for the impact the vampire gave out a blood curdling war cry. His sword flashed out quickly as he descended into the now compact ranks. The tip of the blade slashing a wide arc across his body and slashed the second rank in two. The blade flickered left then right and then he had immediately turned to and then slashed the front rank. Severing bodies, limbs, and heads clean off. The shear weight of this beast had immediately destroyed eight of his trusted foot.

The bodies continued to fall and body parts and blood continued to spray out against the white ground. Soon the blood was flowing across the drenched road and he kicked his mount into the fray. His enemy surged past the third rank crushing one soul with the butt of his weapon and kicking another into his fellow drow with a mere kick of his armored foot.

His evil Pegasus raised his head and screeched delight as it thought it would maim the character with its mud drenched hooves. His own sword was out and await to swing quickly down onto the characters head when he quickly sidestepped the mounts hooves and heaved a vicious stroke across the mounts now helpless legs. The evil creature let out a sorrowful sound as it now continued down to the earth without either of it's front legs.

His mount continued to thrash about wildly trying to regain its footing but being in shock didn't know it was missing it's legs past the knee. He himself jumped cleanly from the mount at the same moment the mount hit the ground. His body now landed squishing into the mire to the left side of the road. The character finished off the mount with ease and turned to face Stryleth. With blood spraying across his body as the severed head rolled to the right he looked lithely into the eyes of the awaiting druchii noble.

During this time a war cry from the rear sounded as his corsairs now faced to the flanks and rear. The ghouls that had been waiting for their master to make his first move now charged from the whitened trees. Soon the melee was all about. Fully encircled his drow fought disciplined each elf making clean work of the first ghouls that lay into them. Soon the elves were beginning to be pulled down by the sheer weight of the force attacking. Zombies soon shambled from the caravan to keep the cross bow elves hard at work. His shades now attempted to counter the assault and saw off another unseen regiment of skeletal warriors that had begun to form the his side of the road.

Now the vampire quickly moved in to take down Stryleth in single combat. As the groans and slashing continued the elf brought up his own shield and crouched ready to counter any assault the vampire had in his arsenal. The blood soaked armor of the vampire glistened in the whitened background. The face of the evil monster grew grotesquely the elongated fangs that stood for his vampiric brotherhood.

The elf didn't wait any longer and lunged at the vampire with his blade slashing down and to the left. The vampire blocked and slid his blade down and the spun as if to lop off Stryleth's head. The drow noble easily ducked and moved towards his right with just the tip of his shield being sheered off by the strength of the blow. His blade now shot out and straight at the body of the vampire hoping to push the vampire back into the blood filled gully.

The vampire jumped back and then quickly rushed in swinging into the shield arm of Stryleth. His shield then took the brunt of the assault and disintegrated into a million pieces. The shards of which washed across the drow as the vampire continued the assault. Stryleth dropped the handle of his now worthless shield and pulled out his draich.

Stryleth then struck with a slashing move across his body and back towards his sword arm. His draich then thrust forward towards the unrelenting vampire. The vampire pushed his sword away easily but didn't see the draich moving in. The screeching sound as it hit the breastplate groaned and slid up into the right arm of the vampire. The vampire gave out a screech and countered with a quick hacking motion down on to the awaiting drows sword arm. The vampires weapon screeched and flung Stryleth's sword across the continuing melee that swept across the road. Stryleth tried to jump and reach the weapon but was met with a knee to his side which broke his breath and left him heaving into the mud. The vampire grinned greedily and swung one last time down onto the undefended drow's body.

Blackness ensued and Stryleth couldn't conquer his fear that he too would soon become an undead. The road was soon cleared of elves and the vampire told his minions to pick apart the rest as they returned to search for their brethren. The hunt continued into the night as wolves swept the area for survivors.

Lentithier seeing the destruction from afar knew the battle was over and anyone left would not need to be told they would soon be dead. Seeing his lord meet and then be destroyed in such a fashion from the vampire was a gruesome foretelling if he decided to wait or try for an assault himself. He pushed his remaining knights into the woods and began the trip back to the awaiting boats. He knew only a few would make it back but seeing his chances of doing so he knew he must try.


Stryleth had remained a prisoner for what seemed to be some two months of time. It was hard to tell as his gaoler never spoke. Stryleth surmised he was a mute or was to smart and ignored any complaints from the jailed. His eyes had strained at first to understand his cramped quarters but soon adjusted to the low light levels.

His eyes hurt every time his jailer would peer through the slender door flashing a spout of flame from his present torch. He had not figured out how they had gotten him into the room if not from some secret passage. He bet as much that someone wielding magic had built the arrow slit door as soon as he was placed within the cell. His cell being dark had no outside light and therefore he presumed it would be useless to try to tunnel.

The cell made only one foot longer than his slender six foot build and just as high was something he had searched again but without luck. His thoroughness only brought the realization that the floor sloped into the back corner and this was where any excrement was left. It somehow seeped into the stone and was gone as though it was never there. Again another tell tale sign he was in something he knew not about.

After the first month of trying restively to search for a way out he had begun to think of what happened to his party since they left their home. It slowly showed itself to him that this seemed to be one long stride to take out his entire life in one fell swoop. Within months of coming to the Empire his life had gone from good to bad. His family had been stripped of their proud holdings and were strewn to the four winds. His last wish was to flee and find refuge in returning with his fleet's holds full of slaves.

He thought this would have brought him back from utter failure and yet this act itself brought him further defeat. Why would such a creature decide to leave him alive and to leave him untouched? The food very meek was still worthy of devouring. His mind began to form webs within webs as he fought to bring about certain details he knew he must piece together. It was with this that his thoughts continued to strengthen his grasp on surviving and bringing back the luster that once was his household's name!

Soon, weeks rolled into months. The food somehow continued to increase in quantity and quality. His jailer had thrown him a cloak and dagger one night. It seemed strange that this gaoler would bring him anything except his final death. He wrapped the dagger in the cloak and placed it neatly within the corner of his cell. His now bedraggled clothes had begun to fall off his now tightened muscles. Had it not been for his once noble position he might have been considered a bit pudgy for a drow. Now his muscles had been honed with constant use inside his cell.

The silence he thought once would drive him mad eventually became his ally. He now noticed slight changes within temperatures, felt small creatures moving along the corridor outside, and knew that it too had two doors on each end of the hallway. How he became more aware of his surroundings was not instantaneous but brought about by days and hours of constant practice.

His mind gradually began to toughen and his senses as well. It was with this mind frame he knew he was being honed into something he knew so little about. Something that would place him into further danger for no other reason but to die heartily if needed. It was with this his hatred grew within him to exact revenge on anything that would present itself for his anger. Whoever decided to open his cell would need more than just their lives to bring him his own death.


Lights shown down the left of the hallway outside Stryleth's cell. He thought that it was to soon to have a meal but awaited anticipating something evil to come about because of this. The hooded figure who now stood in front of the slit could not be seen from the dark shadows across his face. The eyes of the creature however shown red and then turned to a tainted green.

The rasping voice emanated slowly as if he had to search for each word spoken. The drow language was not the first language this creature knew. "My name is inconsequential to you right now," spoke the hooded figure "what is important is that you are needed for a task your lord has no other to ask."

Stryleth rose and crossed the boundary and faced caddie corner to the thing in order that he might get a glimpse through the torchlight off of the opposite side of him. The creature shifted not and continued speaking. "It is required that you be taken from this place and are to move along the route you had originally planned. Middenheim will then be your key." Continued the robed figure.

"If you accept the deed your lands will be given back to you, if you refuse you will remain here and will die from the tortures the lord of this castle has been instructed to inflict upon you."

Stryleth wondered whether or not he could move quickly enough to dig the dagger through the slit and to find this one's heart. If he should remain he knew the lord would surely enjoy torturing him until he expired.

Stryleth spoke calmly and with his head raised high. "I will do as the lord requires whether or not he finds himself in my grasp later on is up to him. Who is this lord you speak of?"

The creature waited and then retorted "It matters not at this time who you work for but who you work for has the power to shape your life the way he wishes."

Stryleth knew not who could have that much power in the druchii hierarchy except the most powerful of lords or families. His own lord surely had not the strength and he never showed signs that his fall was anything but a mere fly on the ceiling.

"I will complete that which my lord requires." Stryleth said firmly.

"So be it, may your quest be found not wanting and you regain that which you have lost. Prepare yourself then for the journey and ready for the day in which you will leave."

As the figure turned to leave Stryleth quickly spurted out one last question. "How will I know where to go and what to do?"

The figure turned it's head and looked over his shoulder. "You will know as soon as you begin your journey the roads in which you must take."

"So be it then." Stryleth spoke quickly.

The figure nodded and then turned without another word back down the hallway in which he had come.


Up to this point Stryleth had only thought that there was some foul doings that another lord had called down upon him. Now that he knew he was pushed down this path his anger began once again. This, he knew, would help him survive long enough to exact revenge and still be able to bring back his family name.

His mind raced through all the options and slowly he began to wonder how much he really knew. If this lord had the power to give orders to vampire nobles who really was this drow? Finding the answer would be like looking into a muddy swamp hoping to see the bottom. It would take him some time before finding anything worth making a strike at.

His gaoler came at the exact hour in which he was to eat. The gaoler brought another item and it slinked with the sound of armor. It was a mithril made. Light to the wearer and incredibly able to take a beating. These type of things only the most noblest of druchii would ever wear. Something a house would prize amongst the top of their armories.

His own family had never owned any themselves but he knew his own lord had worn one and his wife as well. It fitted him almost to perfectly as it slid down upon his shoulder. He replaced his clothing onto his shoulder but the clothing had continued to shred and the mithril shown through all to often.

The hours continued on and his eyes closed to rest into a fitful slumber. It was a dream like none other. A lucid dream that brought himself into a large cavern under what seemed to be some great Empire city. It was in this cavern he traversed to the far side and found some type of coffin. Inside this coffin was a long disintegrated corpse. Its bones protruded from its tightened skin.

Through these dead eyes he could see a small glowing artifact. He slowly moved the body and then grasped at the amulet below. As his hands touched the amulet a piercing sound shot through his mind and awoke in a daze and wondering exactly where he was. He understood this to be no ordinary dream. It must be something this new lord was after. Something imperceptible but also something that held great value.

Studded shoes clacked across the silent hallway again and brought Stryleth from his thoughts. The gaoler now produced a new set of clothing and he could see a small smile light across the jailers face. The clothing again fitted as perfectly as his new mithril armor. The entire set was in dark greys, greens, and sombre browns. The boots were made to come up past his calves and the leather that he now placed around his chest was strapped intricately along the sides but still allowed for easy movements.


"The Cowards never came, the Weak died along the way, the Brave arrived, the Tough remained." -unknown American pioneer
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Last edited by Dictator on Tue Dec 07, 2010 3:05 pm, edited 2 times in total.

Tue Nov 30, 2010 7:34 pm
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Time drew near as he could tell the time of night was upon him. Looking back over his shoulder he could still see plainly the castle. Once it had held him and he etched it within his inner remembrances so that one day he could tear this castle down one stone at a time. He had also decided that he would never make amends with gypsies and would destroy them too.

Such a plan lay off in to the future and he never knew exactly when it would come to fruition. The night's stars were out and he could see them all sprayed across the sky as he walked under the cover of darkness. It was in this darkness he felt at home. Something he knew more about now as he never had before. The earth was alive around him and every sound it made came all to clearly to him. As he walked on his feet lithely walked across the broken ground with never a squish or sound coming from his boots moving across it.

During the following days he stayed clear of anything that moved and only moved at night. He decide that finding a sword was his next important step in finding out exactly how to reach this pendant. Such a gem was surely his focus and continued to weigh upon his mind when he was not traversing the woods along the road. Several caravans passed him during the daytime and each time he heard them several miles off with their thunderous sounds. He knew prior to his internment that he would never had heard these fools so far off. He understood it to be a blessing and not a curse.

His search was just at the beginning and feeling free was just one of many sensations that struck him as something to be cherished with all measure.


Several weeks later he had found the outside of the massive city. It's walls had stretched along a natural barrier of low hills. It stretched hap hazardously as though the city had grown in spurts. The thought of such a city and what he must do he dreaded deep inside. Stryleth needed time to figure out how to enter the city. If he was to enter among the gates he would surely be found and put the questioners.

There were several other avenues of choice. Some were more retching than others. His best bet, he surmised, was by entering the excrement holes that fed into the downstream portion of the river that ran through the city. He dared not think about the smell but knew it would be his safest way in.

What bothered him was how he would do when he did reach inside the city. He knew the alleyways would allow him almost free access to anywhere within the city. Stryleth had no idea about who would meet him and if they even knew he was coming. It would be hard to find a needle you never knew existed unless they knew he did.


Reaching the outer defences was not the easiest thing to do. With his drow eyes he easily discerned each obstacle and was able to hide before any eyes and patrols reached his position. Several times he could smell a covey of birds before he came upon them. It would have been a calamity if he had scared them off.

Deep into the night he pushed on coming closer to the outer walls and getting closer to one of the smaller dump holes. It was hoped that this one would be little defended since the smell was atrocious and would seemingly never have enough size to admit a regular sized slave.

His hopes were founded and he found the grate to be made of rusted steel. It was his dream come true, minus the smell and floating bits that hit his hips as he waded silently towards the grate. The once hardened steel had corroded beyond recognition and was no strength after successive pushes. A slight groan protruded as he slid past the final bar that had determinedly been keeping him from moving into the inner workings of the water filled sludge.

Smells that would have made a rat blush pushed through his minds blocking mechanisms. He continued to retch for several minutes after passing several floating pieces of what seemed to be bodies. Could it be that this place was rife with more than what met the eye. Surely there was more than met his eye. Could it be that more was at stake than just this single amulet?


"The Cowards never came, the Weak died along the way, the Brave arrived, the Tough remained." -unknown American pioneer
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Tue Dec 07, 2010 4:44 pm

Joined: Thu Dec 09, 2010 5:11 pm
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Write the next one in color. It is hard to read all the words in the white on black.

Fri Dec 10, 2010 3:14 am
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If you do want to change the colour the orange isn't bad. We use it in the roleplay : ) I'm fine with white though myself.

I'm enjoying this very much! :D The fight with the Vampire was very effective. I'm also noticing a lot of ongoing tension as the plot develops and the sense of being out for revenge never diminishes. Such is the Druchii way :twisted:

Just one tiny thing, before anyone else mentions it: Drow isn't a term for Dark Elf in Warhammer (though it is on D&D). That's got nothing to do with your story or style though, both of which I am finding very atmospheric and colourful, so please don't take offence!

I'm glad I took the time to sit down and read this, I had been saving it for when I had time free because I do like my Dark Elf fiction! :) Can we have more?

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Sat Dec 11, 2010 7:25 pm
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