Salvation (NC fluff)

Stories, fluff, army fluff, your own fluff ideas, and other creations concerning the Druchii, the End Times Elves or the Exile Aelves go here!

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_maelstrom_
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Post by _maelstrom_ »

good stuff fingol, keep it up
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Lord adrianus
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Post by Lord adrianus »

Ooh nice, the last bit is so cruel :twisted: :twisted:
Starting with Orks!!! A green tide will come (well, I have 34 boyz now :D
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Post by Drainial »

Lord Adrianus wrote:Ooh nice, the last bit is so cruel :twisted: :twisted:


Not realy, decaptitation is far preferable to being given to the poisend blades of the whicth elves.
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Post by Fingol23 »

Ares scanned the trees warily as he rode through the Great Forest searching for a place where the army could make camp. He turned a bend in the forest track and found himself in a massive glade, the perfect place to make camp. However Ares’ instincts warned him that it was also the perfect place for an ambush so he signalled for his accompanying riders to ready their repeater crossbows as they entered.
Suddenly a group of giant spiders jumped from the trees to land in front of the elves, each with a demented goblin mounted on their back. If the elves hadn’t been prepared the ambush may well of been successful. As it was one rider was knocked f his steed as a spider pounced on him, before the spider could get to work with its poisoned mandibles Ares pin cushioned it with Lifetaker, his enchanted crossbow, several other ambushers were felled by the Druchii crossbows before they managed to attack. It was a immediately obvious that the spiders were a much greater threat then their goblin riders whose wild thrusts missed completely while their mounts felled two dark elves. However the Druchii fought back with competence and skill skewering several of the beasts with their long cavalry spears. Ares beheaded a frenzied goblin with a sweep of his sword before following through to stab straight through a spider’s abdomen.
In an instant the goblins decided to quit the fight and fled the clearing as quickly as they had appeared leaving Ares to count his dead. Two Druchii and a steed had been killed and the elf that Ares had saved was badly injured. Cursing the Grobi scum Ares sent word of the clearing and the skirmish to Rackeith.
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Post by Lord adrianus »

@ Drainial Shadowheart

It's still cruel.

p.s. With WE you at least see one nice looking women at the end of your life:D
Starting with Orks!!! A green tide will come (well, I have 34 boyz now :D
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Post by Fingol23 »

The messenger stumbled breathlessly into Rackeith’s tent. Instantly he was pinned to the wall by an invisible force as Rackeith advanced slowly towards him, “Why do I find you in my tent uninvited and unannounced” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.
“Druchii…Chreosh… Gorgoneth” the messenger gargled, struggling to breath.
“Go on” Rackeith ordered, releasing the messenger who immediately slumped to the floor.
“My lord the Cult of Chreosh is in the Empire not two leagues from here.”
“You mentioned Gorgoneth?” prompted Rackeith.
“Yes sir, it would seem that the avatar of Chreosh leads the Cult to war.” Replied the messenger slowly getting too his feet.
“Bring him to me.”
***
Gorgoneth was escorted into Rackeith’s tent. He had been forced to leave his army in the forest where they were surrounded by Rackeith’s spys.
A clear walkway had been made down the middle of the tent, which was flanked by the Druchii nobles that had pledged themselves to Rackeith. There at the far end of the tent was Rackeith with his own personal guard of executioners and witch elves. To his stood Diana flanked by a guard of daemons. She was stunningly beautiful even to one who had once entertained Morathi, with a great effort of will Gorgoneth tore his eyes from here to gaze once more on Rackeith and his guard. Gorgoneth knew that Rackeith’s choice of retinue was intended to send a clear message, Khaine is with me too. “Ah, Gorgoneth you have arrived , it is acceptable to call you that isn’t it? Or am I to call you The Avatar of Chreosh, maybe I am required to kneel?” Inquired Rackeith mockingly.
“Gorgoneth will be fine.” Spat Gorgoneth, “ I hear you are the leader of this rabble, my army and I were thinking of joining you, if offered the right incentives.”
With a wave of his hand Rackeith dismissed his retinue apart from half a dozen of his most loyal retainers. “With a god on our side how can we lose. As for incentives, the freedom to establish your temple in Tor Thana, also I saw you were looking at Diana, my daughter, you desire her? Well this goes for all you lot, whoever serves me best in this war can claim my daughter to do with what they like.” With this parting statement he rose and leaving the chamber leaving it in uproar while a sneer played across his lips.
WIP First War Against Chaos Expansion
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Post by Drainial »

Well Diana had better hope that Gorganeth does not win because I doubt she would enjoy him "to do with what they like" to her. Good to see that armies gathering.
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Post by Gooner »

This is true, i thought that when Fingol first wrote this piece on my fluff thread. And after years of self scarrification and poisoning he ain't exactly a looker.
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Post by Tilmann spyri »

Wonder who will win. If it's on the leaderboards, I'm sunk. I've only one opponent, my bro, (who is, at least, a passibly easy target) so I can't rise anywhere near high.
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Post by Drainial »

On the other hand you do at least have an oponant, not me and I am severly pissed off about that, I will have to see what my local GW is doing in terms of games (not that its not and hours drive away!)
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Post by Fingol23 »

Ares rushed from the meeting tent to Diana’s. He paused to compose himself before entering. Diana was in front of him, reclined on her exquisite bed. “Ares, what brings you to my humble abode” she said in a tone of both surprise and pleasure.
“Diana I bring urgent news.” Ares replied.
“Well then you better sit down.” She purred gesturing to a point on the bed.
“Your father plans to gift you to whichever general serves him best in the upcoming campaign like you were some common slut.” Ares said while gingerly sitting on the sorceress’s bed.
“Well then we better make sure that you serve my farther best.” Diana replied wrapping herself around Ares, so she was whispering right into his ear.
“But how, that freak Gorgoneth has his entire cult behind him.”
Quick as lightning Diana slapped Ares leaving a red mark right across his alabaster cheek. “Do you doubt my ability?” she hissed.
“Of course not.” Ares replied stunned by the dramatic change in her mood.
Immediately Diana’s face softened and she fell back onto the bed pulling Ares with her. “Now lets discuss more joyous matters.

P.S
as an interesting side note I can't report battles yet I registered on the 25th and the email still hasn't come!
WIP First War Against Chaos Expansion
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Post by Tilmann spyri »

Odd. I've registered, and confermed. contact support.
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Post by Fingol23 »

I have twice
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Post by Tilmann spyri »

Odd. Ignore my Pm then.

Can you go into a GW and ask them? They might be able to get someone on the phone.
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Post by Kaihlik »

Are you sure its not being marked as junk mail?
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Post by Fingol23 »

Rackeith looked up sharply at the unmistakable sound of the roar of a Dragon. “Gorgoneth I wish you would learn how to control your pet.” He snapped impatiently at the high priest.
“That isn’t mine.” replied Gorgoneth his hand gently caressing the hilt of his sword.
Seconds later they heard the guards challenge the newcomer before there was a sudden crash that every warrior knows as the clash of steel upon steel. This was quickly followed by a grunt of pain and another roar from the Dragon. Rackeith and Gorgoneth turned to the entrance flap as it was thrown aside by a Druchii highborn clad in armour that was like none Rackeith had ever seen.
“You are the one they call Rackeith I presume?” questioned the new arrival. Rackeith heard Gorgoneth gasp at his side.
“Indeed I am, tell me how did you manage to simply waltz past my guards outside?” responded Rackeith eloquently, whilst his guards entered behind him.
“If I were you I would get some new ones, the lordling will not be walking for a long time and the rest fled when my dragon growled at them.” The mysterious elf responded in an amused voice.
“Ah I had wondered what that noise was, I assumed it was Gorganeth’s Dragon getting bored. Anyway perhaps you would care to explain why you have a Black Ark sitting half a mile away from by encampment and why you are in my tent terrorising my guards.” Rackieth replied, annoyance starting to creep into his tone. However to Rackeith’s utmost surprise it was Gorgoneth who answered.
“His name is Drainial, Drainial Athalir. Though I am surprised to see him amongst the living, the last time I saw him was over 4000 years ago.”
“Yes indeed Gorganeth, it seems that time does not make fools of us all, only most of us,” replied Drainial “I am surprised to find you here as well. But as to why I am here I have heard that you are in need of allies to take the ruins of Tor Thana. I have come to join you.”
Rackieth smiled thinly and offered Drainial a seat, he had a new ally, and Tor Thana would surely fall to his might.
Taking a seat at the map table Drainial turned once more to Rackieth,
“First I am going to tell you the terms of this allegiance.” Drainial began. “My terms are simple, I want an equal share of the plunder for myself, I want a place on some sort of ruling council when the city is ours and returned to its former glory. I want full command of my elves, you can command me but I command them. And last” Drainial smiled though they could not see it under the bird like visage of his helmet “I want a temple to my god.”
Gorganeth replied immediately, “And what god might that be?” a dangerous quality entering his voice. By way of reply Drainial removed his helmet revealing his rather unusual characteristics and a strange sigel on his forehead.
Rackeith blanched as he recognized the symbol from his duty in the bleak watchtowers that guarded Naggoroth from the ravages of the chaos hordes. The strange Druchii he was sitting opposite was a worshipper of Tzeentch. Quickly he controlled himself making sure his face was an impassive mask. However Gorgoneth was not quite as composed as he reached for his dagger. Rackeith grabbed the priest’s arm before he could draw it being careful to keep his eyes on the chaos worshipper’s face.
“Calm yourself Priest. The Tzeentch worshipper has come to offer us his assistance, not to cause trouble.” Rackeith said in a measured voice.
“We do not need assistance from his kind!” Roared Gorganeth, tearing his arm from Rackieth’s restraining hand and drawing his rune encrusted dagger. He hurled himself at the newly arrived highborn and grabbed him by the throat, his eyes burning with fury as he prepared to plunge his blade through the hated Sigel. Before he could strike two of Rackieth’s elite retainers flanked him, their immense blades digging into his neck. The High Priest composed himself and stepped back, raising a hand to stay his own bodyguards who were moving to protect him. With a low bow the Executioners lowered their weapons and returned to their station behind Rackieth, and for a moment all was still in the tent. With a wry smile Drainial replaced his helmet.
“Surely your mighty serpent lord could cope with a little competition? After all, your darling Morathi managed to combine an allegiance to both Chreosh and a deity of Chaos. I trust she still honours you with her affections as she did in those halcyon days on Ulthan?” The Tzeentch worshipper grinned beneath his helmet as he watched Gorganeth struggle to suppress his anger.
“I have not seen her for many a millennia” the Priest hissed. “I would ask what had become of you over all these years, what perversions led you to this heresy, but I shouldn’t want you thinking it was of any significance to me.” Gorganeth sighed deeply, “Very well. It seems Rackieth has deemed you worthy of joining us. I will fight with you, but do not for a second think yourself any friend of mine. Under any other circumstances you and your brethren would fall beneath my sword,”
“The feeling is entirely mutual my dear Gorganeth.” Drainial replied. “Were it not for your part in this alliance I would gladly butcher you and all your perverted cultists. As it is however I shall control my followers. We are believers in logic and reason, and shall have no problems controlling our distaste. Can we expect the same from your rather less… ‘cultured’ forces?” Rackeith watched Gorganeth shudder at the insult but this time the elf manged to keep control and but gritted his teeth.
“You have my word. None who exalts in the glory of Chreosh shall lay a finger on your Tzeentch worshippers. Together we shall smite our enemies and raise our temples from the ashes of Tor Thana.” With that Gorganeth bowed his head before returning to his seat at the council table.
Sensing that his two allies had signalled a truce for now Rackeith resumed planning for his conquest of Tor Thana.
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Post by Fingol23 »

Hetiahn knelt before his adopted lord and awaited his command, “Hetiahn I need eyes and I need ears if I am to win this campaign you will provide those eyes.” Spoke Rackeith.
“My Lord I am an assassin not a glorified spy.” retorted Hetiahn indignantly.
“You are whatever I command you to be Hetiahn and don’t you forget it.” responded Rackeith, an aura of dark power playing about his clenched fist.
“I did not mean to question your authority dread lord, merely point out that such a task is not worthy of my skills.”
“I know my dear Hetiahn.” replied Rackeith caressing the assassin’s face with his armoured gauntlet, “However who else can I trust with this task? I have precious few agents, Gorgoneth’s men couldn’t be discrete even if they wanted too and if I charged one of Drainial’s men I am sure I would only learn what Drainial sees fit for me to know, I am sure that elf has his own agenda.”
“Very well my lord I will do as you wish if it is truly the best way you can use my considerable skills.” replied Hetiahn rising to leave.
“See that you do.” commanded Rackeith as the assassin slipped into the busy camp.
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Post by Drainial »

Vile suspition! :o What could possibly make you think such thoughts? (other than my story)
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Post by Fingol23 »

“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”
This was the first sentence to catch Hetiahn’s attention during his week long stay at the Last Chance Inn. His interest aroused the assassin sidled closer to the pair and joined their conversation. “Excuse me, but did I hear you speak of my people’s old city; Tor Thana?”
Hethian noticed the human smile and just as his female companion began to speak, he gestured for her to halt and spoke in her stead. “Indeed we did, my friend. But what business is it of yours?”
“You need not worry,” Hetiahn replied with a breezy smile that would strike most as utterly sincere. But not this human. Hetiahn continued, “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, 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” the human inquired.
Hetiahn smiled back, unaware that the tables were about to be turned. “I fear so. Forgive me.”
“Of course.” Now it was the human that spoke while she beamed at the elf 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.”
Just for a moment Hetiahn’s composure slipped, but it was enough, and he knew it. That was all the confirmation the duo needed. They knew he was a spy.
“Now then, whoever you are. I think you owe us an explanation. You are Druchii, correct?” The human’s calm words were offset by his expression of total rage. The Dark Elven spy nodded, pretence gone.
Deciding that their was know point in any more deception Hetiahn spoke, “Yes. I am Hetiahn, once of house Shadowbane, an 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…”
Hetiahn understood the lady’s question and continued, “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 gestured to the human, “have decided to pledge the forces at our disposal to your Lord.
“Wha…” this took Hetiahn completely by surprise, however he noticed that the lady’s companion was even more shocked.
“How large a force do you command? And why have I not heard…” the assassin struggled to regain his composure.
“You can not be serious.” The male 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.”
This statement greatly angered Hetian and he was about to teach the human a lesson about the Druchii when the lady replied for him. “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.” He replied keeping what little he knew about Dranial to himself.
It was obvious that the human called Tillmann was not quite as convinced of this.
“This is all only theory on your part, mi’lady.” he replied respectfully. Hetiahn was know starting to seriously dislike this Tilmann character.
“True Spyri, but it seems reliable, and I am prepared to act on it.”
“Very well Mi’lady” Tillmann Spyri sighed. “I’ll play it your way.”
“Wonderful” strangely the lady smiled as she said this, Hetiahn could only assume it was because the two humans had resolved their argument. “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…” she continued.
Suddenly Hetiahn noticed fangs protruding from the female’s open mouth. Turning to her companion, he saw Spyri’s hand engulfed in dark magics. Smiling, Tilmann placed a finger to the table edge, instantly the wood turned to dust, ageing millennia at his touch. Hetiahn reached for his poison blades trying to judge which of the pair was a larger threat.
“As I was saying,” continued the vampire, 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 he tried to relax, “I understand perfectly. I am sure Lord Rackeith would be happy to welcome your forces to our efforts in the region. 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, Hetiahn kept his blades within easy reach as he knew how strong a threat this Vampire could pose.
“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.”

***
Ares rose with a start as the messenger entered his tent. “Lord the scouts report that Hetiahn…” the messenger trailed off as he realised the female elf lying next to Ares was in fact Diana, her modesty barely covered by the beds silken sheets.
Quick as a flash Ares had crossed the tent thrusting his enchanted crossbow painfully into the elf’s gut. “If you repeat any of what you have seen here I will make sure you beg for death rather then face the torture I will subject you too.”
Diana laughed, the sound sending a shudder of pure pleasure down Ares’ spine. “Come my love this pitiful being wouldn’t dare squeal on a sorceress.”
The messenger nodded gratefully as Ares reluctantly backed off. “As I was saying my lord the scouts report that Hetiahn is leading two humans back to camp.”
“Thank you, you are dismissed.” barked Ares, still disgruntled by the interruption. Pulling on his tunic he turned to Diana who was still reclined on the bed, the silk covers pulled tightly to her. “Humans, why is Hetiahn bringing humans to our camp?” he questioned.
“Does it really mater, come back to bed.” Diana sighed.
“I wish I could my love but I must fulfil my duty.” Ares answered.
At this Diana rolled onto her back and refused to acknowledge anything he said or did. Disgruntled Ares left his tent towards the stables. His stomach was a twisted knot of fear, he had no idea what would happen if Rackeith discovered that he was sleeping with his daughter. Normally Ares would never take such a risk but Diana was divinely beautiful and something about her made Ares want to please her anyway she could.
But first he had to deal with the Hetiahn situation. Ares had no intention of getting involved, he would leave that to the gate guards, his job would be merely to observe.
***
Tharii took some small pride in the camps fortification as it had been her that had masterminded them, managing to make them be both aesthetically pleasing and more importantly defendable. Rackeith had ordered the fortifications upon their arrival and Tharii had made sure that they were ready as early as possible both to please her lord and to prevent a surprise assault from overrunning the camp. Under Rackeith’s orders every eventuality was accounted for, from aerial attacks to skaven tunnelling. However she did not think it fair that the main architect of the camp was reduced to guarding its main gate.
She was distracted from her grumbling when a dark shape appeared out of the pouring rain behind Slerac her fellow sentry and took him down with two cuts along the arms. Before she could draw her blade the assailant followed up into her groin with his knee following up with a quick chop into her throat knocking her unconscious.
She came round seconds later and realised with a shook that she recognised her attacker as an assassin she had once dated. “Hetiahn you bastard!” she spat from her prostrate position in the mud. However the assassin didn’t notice as his attention was fully focussed on the regiment of Vanakat emerging from the gate in full battledress. Their commander, Kazakha, quickly walked over to Tharii and her fellow sentry and gave them a quick check over. As he left he spat straight into Tharii’s face, undoubtedly believing her to be unconscious. Deciding it would be better if the others didn’t realise that she was in fact awake she bore the insult for the sake of trying to discover more.
“I can’t believe you, assassin.” Kazakha’s words were spoken in a voice that mixed anger and amusment.
Hetiahn adopted an expression of pained resentment that even Tharii could see straight through. “What, am I not allowed to teach them a lesson for arguing whilst they were supposed to be keeping a lookout?” Hetiahn replied his arms spread wide in a gesture of innocence.
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 Slerac who was still bleeding profusely from the cuts on his arms, leaving 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 the Vanakat carried the Chorite off into the recesses of the camp. “Sinrula, Tjiki; you two take what’s left of this watch” Tharii watched in dismay as an idea seemed to strike one of her replacements. He whispered something in the Commander’s ear. The Sword-elf laughed heartily at his underling’s words.
“Why not? Teach her a lesson.” These simple words filled Tharii with dread although the Vanakat left her be for the moment with the mud soaking into her robe as the Vanakat walked past, giggling to take up position as sentries.
Finally Kazakha turned back to Hetiahn, still smiling. Finally, he answered the assassin’s question.
“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 at Tharii once more, “They are not under my command.”
Tharii could see that despite his vicious treatment of her Hetiahn was not happy with this fate befalling her. However as he spoke she realised that he had an additional reason.
“We will need every blade and repeater we have, old one. Summary execution won’t do any more”
“Indeed, it will not.” Surprised by this new voice Tharii craned her neck to see who it belonged too. She saw a human woman, for some reason in full armour, striding towards them.
“Ha, our slaves come to us now it seems” this was Sinrula whose blade 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. Therii could see something that the Vanakat couldn’t and that was the look of supreme confidence in the Human’s eyes. “Now then, woman, surrender or I wi…”
It was so quick; a human would not even have seen it. Tharii gasped at the creature’s speed, she was now certain that she wasn’t human, the others were shocked, speechless. Hetiahn showed no reaction, for once, simply because he had none to show. It was evident to Tharii that he had expected something of the sort, what sort of game are you playing my past love she wondered.
Within seconds the Executioner stood disarmed, his blade cleaved in two, the lady’s blade at his throat. Not only that, but the creature’s 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. It was clear to all that his sword was enchanted.
“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.” the lady’s voice was rich and highly articulated.
“Indeed.” A second figure strode out of the darkness, this one seemed human too but Tharii wasn’t going to be fooled again. He appeared unarmed, though after the first stranger she was amused to notice that 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, bodyguard of the mighty Rackeith were struck dumb. On the one hand, Druchii allying with pitiful mortals was so unheard of as to be laughable. However, as Tharii had already realised the Lady Knight was 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 who merely smiled as Kazakha continued, “They came immediately after you. Do you know anything about these…” he searched for an appropriate word, and finally settled on “strangers?”
Hetiahn sighed. It was clear things had not gone how he had wanted. “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.” Tharii stared once more at the mysterious knight who was carefully 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 Tharii was used to.
“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…”
This took Tharii completely by surprise, not human she had guessed but a vampire. Suddenly, with speed the more realistic Druchii doubted they could match, von Kahajen spun round, whilst jumping back and slightly to her left, just as the disgraced Sinrula lunged at her with the remains of his sword‘s blade. With a somewhat brutal finesse, the vampire 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 remained calm and 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.” Spoke the vampire with a touch of irony.
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, “Very well, Caerthal. You!” He barked at one of the guards operating the gate, who stood to attention.
“Yes, Master Executioner?” the guard answered.
“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.” the 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 but Therii knew he wouldn’t reach his intended destination.
Kazakha paused for a moment, slightly pleased at being addressed as mi’lord. Then he remembered Hetiahn, “As for you, Servant of the Bloody-handed, what were you about to say before all this started?”
Tharii suppressed a grin as she realised the curious expression on the assassin was nervousness, a first for him. None the less, he calmly told the old Sword-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 somehow managed to smile 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 men who looked markedly less pleased about the prospect of fighting a legion from Hoeth. They were more than equal to their Asurite counterparts of course, but new that they would be greatly outnumbered. 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 cannot 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 whatever 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 surprised that loyalist scum would dare approach the camp.
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 Tharii lying in the mud, the prospect of wine had obviously distracted the Vanakat from whatever punishment they had been about to issue. Accompanied by a quick kick from the remaining sentry Tharii limped back to camp determined to confront Hetiahn, after she had changed of course.
WIP First War Against Chaos Expansion
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Post by Fingol23 »

“Anything may be vital. The slightest advantage may well turn the tide. I would aid you, but” She remembered his spiting on the ground with some amusement “I have to try and hold this little group together.” Diana thought back to her last meeting with her farther before she had been sent to work in this sweatshop concocting spells and potions that might give them an advantage in the coming war. Of course her father had made no mention of the fact that he had offered her up as a reward for whichever general served him best.
The sorceress sighed. She was the last magic wielder left in the tent all the others having left to pursue their own agendas, even Alexia her aunt had retired for the night and was now probably feasting with her brother. It was simply not fair!
Feeling rage boil up inside her Diana punched the well-carved, dark-wood table, and then rose sending her chair flying. She started to pace round the room, taking long elegant strides. She was the daughter of the commander of this force, not to mention the most talented and beautiful of the users of Dhar and yet, instead of being given the superior treatment that was her right she was forced to work endlessly in this damnable tent, whilst her “contemporaries” relaxed in luxury. Why was this? Because she was the youngest and “least experienced”. Hah! She’d like to see…
Just before she reached the tent flap her lithe form came to a complete stop. Some sort of cloaked slave had just come through, unaccompanied and with no apparent explanation. Finally she had an outlet for her rage. Without pausing to think Diana sent a bolt of ebony Dhar straight at the unfortunate.
To her intense annoyance the slave appeared to have some small mastery of dark magic as well as he conjured a shield if jet black to block the attack. Diana confidently expected the shield to crumple before her assault but instead it hardly faltered.
Diana stared at the human rage pouring from her like an angry fog. In her haste bourn of anger, she had failed to look closely at the being that had so rudely interrupted her, but the shock of her spell failing had cleared her mind. Now she could sense that this human could also draw upon the winds; and that his power equalled, or perhaps even surpassed hers.

The mage looked surprised, however, at her attack. For the first time, he glanced round the tent an expression of confusion becoming ever more evident on his face. Then, “Why, precisely, did you attack me?” He asked, with some slight bitterness. “I thought I was supposed to be your ally.”
“Ally?” Diana was reeling now. Atop the fact that the stranger spoke passable Drukh-Eltharin a language she believed to be known only to the mighty Druchii this human claimed to be allied to her father.
The stranger clicked his tong in annoyance at himself, and held his hand to his head, “Damn. I should have remembered, the information couldn’t spread that quickly.”
Diana was beginning to grow angry again this damnable creature seemed to be talking to itself and Diana was not used to being a step behind anyone. But then the mage bowed low to the daughter of the Exile Lord. “Yes, I am Tillmann Spyri, and I, along with my friend, Lisa von Kahajen, are to work with your forces here.”
Normally Diana would utterly fail to believe the story. But she was a good judge of character, and was pretty sure this “Tillmann Spyri” was telling the truth besides why else would a human mage be allowed unescorted around her father’s camp. That did not settle all her questions, however, “But how could a common mercenary…”
“Mercenary!?“ the human seemed surprised at this term, but thought for a moment, and the surprise lifted. “Well, yes I suppose, from a technical stand point, but anything from common, as you may have realised. Now, what was the term?”
He tried to remember, whilst Diana just stood there, in shock at this strange human who showed the audacity to walk into the sorceresses’ tent and then stand there muttering to himself. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers having found the phrase he was looking for, “Vachi Caerthal. That was it.”
Diana stared. Vachi Caerthal? The dead? But this human appeared alive and well. “You are… “
“Oh no.” Spyri seemed amused at that; he laughed with a heartiness not normally credited to necromancers. “I command them, raise them, and bind them…”
Bind them. This was it, Diana’s mind quickly calculated a way to use this revelation to her advantage, here was her opportunity to give Ares the advantage he needed. This human knew how to bind dead sprits to serve in an army. And they were to fight the Asur within a ruin haunted by a city’s population of ghosts of the false elves. If that was not the advantage Diana was searching for, she didn’t know what was. This was a chance to finally gain status and greater power amongst the sorceresses and to be free of the threat of being gifted off to one of Rackeith’s generals. Before too long, she’d be free of this miserable tent. Free to relax, perhaps, with her favourite plaything.
“But I am not one of the... Hello?” Tillmann waved his hand in front of the Druchii’s eyes. She snapped out of her thoughts at once.
“Nothing.” She tried to think of how to put this, and decided on simple honesty. Deceit was, perhaps, not the best idea with this one, “Can you teach me to bind spirits?” she asked in a honeyed which now man had ever resisted.
The Necromancer looked surprised, and not a little dubious. However, he answered truthfully, “I suppose so. Though Necromancy is different to your art, the princi...”
The dark elf beamed, as she thumped the table again, “Yes!”
Spyri blinked, “I’m sorry?”
Diana laughed. She was actually beginning to warm slightly to this dumb human, maybe she would ask father if she could keep him.
“It doesn’t matter. Just teach me how to command such shades, human, and I will see that you are well rewarded.”
Tillmann Spyri seemed uncertain for a moment. But for a moment only, “Deal done.” He held out his palm, and the sorceress took it eagerly with her own, slender hand. They shook, both gripping firmly, the Dark Elf struggling to contain her excitement. Tillmann chose that moment for a gentle reminder, “Just remember my name. Tillmann…”
“Yes, yes, yes. Sorry. I am Diana “ She curtsied, letting her raven black hair fall about her. Tillmann smiled at this gesture from a Druchii.
“Good to meet you, Diana. Now, let us begin…”
And then the pair talked, long into the night. Talks of energies, of commands, of frailties, of death and of control.
Such are the subjects of talks, between masters of Dhar.
WIP First War Against Chaos Expansion
http://www.druchii.net/viewtopic.php?t= ... e7da5c4719

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Post by Drainial »

And so Lisa joins the host of Rackieth, allways fun to see things from all the angles.
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.

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Fingol23
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Post by Fingol23 »

This piece was born because I wanted to write about something other than politics

Hetiahn relaxed in his tent after having fulfilled his duty. He was sharpening one of his throwing daggers when he sensed a gust blow though his tent’s entrance, without pausing for thought he sent the perfectly balanced knife straight through the tent entrance. The elf standing their had obviously anticipated this and neatly sidestepped the missile before entering the tent and confronting the assassin. With a start Hetiahn recognised the figure as Tharii, his past love and the sentry from earlier. “Hetiahn you bastard!” she shouted slapping him hard in the face, her slender fingers leaving long red marks across the assassin’s face.
Hetiahn reached up to touch the injury before addressing his assailant. “Your not sore about earlier are you?” he said attempting to smile.
“Sore hardly covers it my dear Hetiahn, what reason did you have for attacking me and then leave my at the mercy of those sexist Bastards the Vanaket?” she screamed.
“Calm down, they didn’t do anything did they anyway I am sure you could have looked after yourself, you’ve always had unusual talents.” He replied reaching out to touch her face.
Slowly Tharii forced herself to calm down, aided by Hetiahn’s gentle caresses. Delicatly she allowed herself to sink into the assassin’s lap as the pair reminded themselves of their past love.
WIP First War Against Chaos Expansion
http://www.druchii.net/viewtopic.php?t= ... e7da5c4719

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Post by Soupman »

I think this is great fluff, I really enjoy it and look forward to reading more.

One thing i dislike(about most fluff written about the Barren Hills group actually(Excellent fluff still though!)) is the scenes about powerful characters beating up lesser opponents. It's quite cliché and kind of overused. Cut som of it out and give us more of that great stuff :D

Sorry if I seem harsh
Andreas
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Fingol23
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Post by Fingol23 »

Rackeith and the lords Gorgoneth and Dranial stood around the gold embossed council table placed in the centre of Rackeith’s tent. Together, they formed a council of war, as evidenced by the maps and charts of the area around their goal that covered the table. A veteran of many campaigns Rackeith was a meticulous planner and made sure that his force had an as efficient as possible chain of 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 Rackeith had not managed to completely quell their natural animosity and nor did he wish to as it would provide a powerfull incentive for them to perform in the field of battle. However this led to the council being a long way from harmonious. As shown by the argument currently taking place, “…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.” retorted Dranial angrily.
Suddenly Rackeith grew tired with this petty point scoring, insult and counter insult and decided to intervene before his already frayed temper snapped, “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.”
Just as the Priest of Choresh began to look pleased with himself Rackeith spoke again, “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?” being careful to mentain an equilibrium between his two generals.
The Lord of Choresh spluttered, evidently about to make some rebuke, but again 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.“
Rackeith was pleased to see that both Lords now looked sufficiently humbled and decided to take the opportunity to get back to the actual purpose of the meeting, “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 through and although slightly glad to be out of the downpour outside, which had lasted far longer than it should, Rackeith noted as it suggested that an enemy mage skilled in controlling weather could be near, the guard was obviously anxious. 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?” he bellowed at the terrified guard releasing some of the frustration he had built up during the meeting.
“She is…” The guard began, but then looked at the lady, as if requesting confirmation. This puzzled Rackeith, why would one of his men need the approval of a mere mortal. 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 being forced to speak before the great lords of the Khaladh Oriour Har. Struggling to muster his words, he began again, “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 Rackeith was still mystified by the interruption and considering what torture he could subject the guard, however the next and final title the guard gave made all three of the council 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 undoubtably in a hurry to get as far away from the four beings of power as he could.
Prompted by the gazes of the Druchii lords Lisa spoke “And my greetings to you, great Lords. I shall come straight to the point, but first, may I take a seat?”
Rackeith nodded gesturing at a stool padded with the coat of a great stag, and Lisa, still with fangs slightly visible sat not taking her eyes of the Druchii for a moment, “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 being careful not to show any surprise, he noted that his companions were taking similar steps. Also it was hardly likely that a vampire would get this far if she did if she did not know of their goal. 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. Rackeith and Drainial had long since mastered this art but Gorgoneth found it more difficult. However even their composures slipped at this news. Rackeith was the first to recover gesturing for the Vampire to continue.
“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” she concluded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
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 while Rackeith digested this further revelation, the armoured fist of Lord Drainial Shadowheart crashed into the table. Rackeith, by now used to his allies actions, could clearly se that the chaos worshipper was furious even with the elf’s full face helmet. “Absolutely not! I refuse to work alongside a …”
“You forget yourself, Shadowheart.” interrupted Gorgoneth apparently unable to resist an opportunity for point scoring. “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.”
Rackeith took a step back to avoid the glare of pure malice that the Shadow-lord shot at the master of the cult of Choresh who, glad to see he had riled his opponent, 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 and Rackeith was relieved to see that the ancient elf was much calmer now as he agreed with the Avatar of Chreosh, “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 make a sound as he walked towards the exit. At the tent flap, he stopped, and spoke once more 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.” However for those skilled in speech craft it was clear that Drainial hoped that Lisa would not be deemed fit of joining the Khaladh Oriour Har. 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 Priest walked away, heading back to his section of the camp. Rackeith smiled to himself as he realised that the vampire had no idea of what had just occurred, indeed even he wasn’t sure as to why the walking dead should rile Drainial so much. Deciding to enlighten her he answered her unspoken question, “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, taking no effort to disguise his interest in his new ally. “Perhaps you can serve as a balance between them. But first, I have to ensure your worth. “ Rackeith stood and after a few paces began to bombard Lisa with questions, “Firstly, can you bind other dead to serve in battle?”
Von Kahajen was ready for this, “Yes. And so can Spyri.”
Although Rackeith was pleased he didn’t let on and continued the interrogation, “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?” Once again the exilde sorcerer was surprised and 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 as he calculated her worth. “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 single 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.

Rackeith laughed, he had expected something of the sort, 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.” A hard edge entering his voice for the first time.
“True enough” answered the Blood Dragon buying time while she reflected, then she 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 and anyway it was a weapon that he could hold over her if ever the need arose. “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. It was obvious to Rackeith that the oath had been quite deliberate in that respect. “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” answered Rackeith returning 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 blackness of the tent, Rackeith laughed, “Let the Asur come.” He thought to himself. “We shall be ready.”
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
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Fingol23
Malekith's Personal Guard
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Post by Fingol23 »

Ares led his riders in the first reconnaissance of the ancient Tor. It loomed before them in the mist, its walls breached in many places but still defendable in the event of a siege. The inner citadels looked to be perfectly undamaged even the bridge between the ancient citadel of Galas and the Heartstone citadel remained in good condition.
He was about to order his squadron into the city when his keen eyes picked out movement within the city. Ares ground his teeth in frustration, how dare these treasure hunters despoil the city, did they have no idea of its history or that it belonged to the true sons of Anerion. Angry as he was Ares realised it would be pure folly to attack with such a small force especially when his cavalries’ greatest asset, that of manoeuvrability, would be negated by the city’s twisting streets. Cursing the despoilers Ares ordered his men back to camp.
***
Kazakha watched as the armies of the two loyalist generals approached the camp. He was fully prepared for their arrival, having been forewarned by Hetiahn almost a week previously. Making use of the advance warning Kazakha had dispatched the Manflayers to shadow the approaching army. It was due to Mengil’s men that he new that Kaihlik and his army had joined that of Areon Fellblade.
Although Kazaka expected the arrivals he could not be sure of their intentions and signalled for one of the guards to raise the alarm. Immediately the camp reacted and the wall was soon lined with repeater crossbow wielding warriors while Kazaka led his retinue out of the gate. "And to what do we owe the honour of your company, puppets of the false king" he asked mockingly knowing well that it was very important to present the image of being in control.
"I am no ones puppet!" snarled the enraged Kaihlik, drawing his sword.
Immediately the crossbowmen trained their weapons on the Loyalist Lord whose bodyguards reacted quickly forming a circle of blades around their master. Kazaka watched with interest as Areon put his hand on Kaihliks shoulder motioning for him to lower his weapon, he did this reluctantly as did his guards although one strongly built elf, obviously a favoured retainer kept his sword levelled at the Vanaket.
“And who are you?”asked Areon keeping his tone formal and businesslike.
Kazakha was interrupted before he could even open his mouth. Furious he turned to look at the elf who to his immense surprise he found he recognized from his days serving the temple of Khaine. "He is Kazakha formally a master executioner of Khaine, until he was exiled" spat Alrek a commander of Khaine’s holy order of executioners.
"Ah Alrek Fellblade it has been many years since we last met, I see you still serve that weakling Tullaris" said Kazakha confidently.
As intended this provoked pure outrage from the loyalist executioners, who all levelled their weapons at their rebel counterparts. Now thought Kazakha, control your men or die either are fine by me. To Kazakha’s disappointment Alrek quickly barked out orders for his men to resume formation before answering the Vanakat commander, “Your feeble words mean nothing Kazakha, lord Tullaris was appointed by the high priestess herself and he is the mortal embodyment of Khaine in the aspect of an executioner. Because you opposed him is why you were exiled” said Alrek with a grin.
"You are deluded Alrek, he is nothing more than a mere peasant" said Kazakha riled by Alrek’s reference to the Vanakat’s day of shame.
"We will see who is deluded, when this conlfict is over I will take your head, and then present it to Lord Tullaris" hissed Alrek furious that this outcast had dared to slander his lord.
Finaly as Kasakha had known he would Areon decided to intervene, "Enough of your minor bickering, take us to your master the one called Rackieth" he declared.
“Yes, I am most eager to meet this "great" lord” said Kaihlik also adopting a mocking tone.
“You will have an audience with Lord Rackieth, but I can't promise you will make it out of this camp alive" said Kazakha a sadistic grin spread wide across his face.
At Kazakha’s command his men split apart allowing the convoy to pass through the gates, they were greeted with a sight that few would witness, a huge camp that seemed to stretch on and on, at the river side in the distance they could see several ships at anchor, they were lead through the camp and greeted with suspicious looks and insults shouted out by the encamped rebel army.
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
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