Angaurrith stood staring out the window of his chambers. Every night the young Eldar would do this, gazing out over his small empire in the depths of the Webway. The young one had grown cold over the last few years of his life, losing more of himslef to the Daemon inside him every night. Tonight though, he was determind to change that.
Ever since his possesion, the boy had been plagued with nightmares of a fiery, hellish plane of exsistance. The suffering there was not like that which he inflicted on others, for the torment was coming from himself, chained to a great stone slab, where he was beaten with white hot chains and flails by fiery red humanoid beasts. Tonight, he had decided that he would fight back though. Angaurrith went to his bed and fell asleep.
He awoke in hell. The beasts were there, waiting for him like they did every night. They brandished their razor sharp teeth in vile grins of the utmost glee, knowing that they were going to shed blood for their master this night. The larger of the two stepped forward, and spoke in a beatly tone:
"Well well, look who has returned for his beatings, hmm?" it laughed.
"Actually," said Angaurrith, "I have a proposition for you." The Daemon stopped laughing and looked at its companion.
"Speak then." it said.
"I challege you. Both of you. You two, and six others of your kind, to face me in combat. All I ask is that I be allowed my weapons. If I win, you release me, and if I lose, you may keep me here for eternity." The Daemons laughed again.
"You challege us? Eight of us!? You foolish mortal, your challenge is accepted! Blood for the Blood God!" The chains holding Angaurrith disappeared and his weapons lay at his feet. He grasped the crystal-bladed scythe in his hands and smiled.
"Let us begin then."
The eight Bloodletters formed a circle around Angaurrith. He held his scythe in his left hand and a small knife in the other. The Daemons charged him in a furious bloodlust, but Angaurrith was quicker. He Cut down the first seven with ease, but the largest of them, the one he challenged directly, parried his attacks one after another. He began to lose his edge, the Daemon pushing him back toward the edge of the platform they were on. Angaurrith spread his wings and took to the sky. The Daemon howled in fury.
"Coward! Come down here so I may slaughter you!" The Daemon yelled in its rage. Angaurrith laughed a cold laugh.
"As you wish!" He swooped down, throwing the scythe at the Daemon. It stepped out of the way, but as it looked up to the sky Angaurrith's knife flew into its throught. As it lay on the ground, choking on its own ichor, Angaurrith retrieved his scythe and walked away.
Angaurrith looked across the hellish plane he was on. In the distance he saw a large fortress, the Brass Citadel, home of the Throne of Skulls. He took to the skies toward the monument of blood. He flew for what seemed like a lifetime, passing over great volcanic oceans and mighty forges filled with the souls of the damned. He landed at the gates of the mighty fortress to see two large Daemons guarding it. He walked up to the two and spoke:
"You! I request an audience with your Lord! Step out of my way, lest you be destroyed in the rage that has overcome me this night!" The two snarled in anger, but stepped aside.
"We would crush your tiny skull, mortal, but our Lord has been expecting you. Enter."
Angaurrith entered the mighty fortress. He walked along its bloodsoaked corridors until he reached the doors of the throne room. They opened on his approach. He stepped inside and imediately he realized that we was standing atop thousands of skulls from all different beings from across the galaxy. A great pit lay between him and the throne of Khorne, filled witha ghostly fire. From it, thousands of souls screamed. Angaurrith walked up to the fire and peered into the pit.
"Listen to them, those cowards. Will you flee little one, and join them in their agony, or stand up and face me?" Said a low, gravely voice. Angaurrith stepped into the fire, but did not fall into the pit, nor was he burned. He walked across the pit and emerged on the other side unscathed. "Then you face me. Good."
Before him sat a mountain of skulls, and at the top was a great throne. Sitting in the throne was a creature of rage and murder, a great armoured fiend with a large sword. He descended the mountain with gigantic leathery wings and landed in front of Anguarrith, the force of his mass hitting the ground causing the entire room to shake. He stood five time the size of the Eldar warrior. Khorne leaned his face in to see Angaurrith, coming only inches away with his firey red snout.
"Tell me, young mortal, why you have come to my throne!" Bellowed the Blood God. Angaurrith did not flintch, but answered in a dark tone:
"I have come, oh mighty God of Murder and Vengeance, to pledge myself to thee. Inside me lies one of your warriors, who was tricked into giving me his power! I come to you now asking that I be allowed to become the rightful owner of this power, using it as I desire, and killing in your name! I seek vengeance! I seek the head of Asdrubael Vect! I want to see his body broken at my feet, and his soul cast into the Warp to be forever tortured in the fires of damnation! God of Blood, grant me this wish, as a humble servnt to you." He looked into the eyes of Khorne as he spoke, the volume and rage of his voice increasing as he spoke. The mighty God looked at him for a long while, pondering what the mortal had said.
"You are the soul slave of my brother, Slaanesh. You come to me, not asking for power, but for freedom. Do not try and decieve me, for I am not fooled like my warriors!" roared Khorne, "But, you wish to kill in my name? You seek vengeance? Your race kills to cause suffering, which only increases my brother's power! You wish to kill for me? Yes. Yes! I will grant you the power you desire, little eldar! Kill for me, and I will release you from the grasp of the Prince of Pleasure! Kill for me, and I will make you more powerful than you could ever have imagined!"
Angaurrith raised his blade to the God.
"Blood, for the Blood God."
Angaurrith awoke in a cold sweat. He stood and looked out his window over his empire once more, only this time something was different. He felt as though a mighty shackle had been removed from him. As he looked out over his domain he laughed a cold, merciless laugh. The laugh grew louder, and it seemed like a second laugh, one more grisly that his, was accompanying his, creating a blasphemous harmony. He stared out into the depths of the Webway.
"Vengeance will be mine, Overlord of Commorragh."
Subject: A Journey into a Nightmare 
Tue Aug 30 2011, 06:14
