The Rise of New Commorragh

Orthien sat, savoring each bite from his first decent meal in a very long time. As he ate he watched a girl approach their table, her clothes filthy and torn and her face set in a slight smirk over her sunken features. She could not have been more than 16 years or so. He recognized her as one of the street rats who he had been briefly associated with before the Hellion attack, though he did not know her name.

He smiled as this new girl suggested they rob Vayr'kala. A few days ago he would have tried it. She did look far better off than me did, at least for the moment.

Orthien sat back as Vayr'kala took lead and offered the girl a meal. There was potential in her, after all she had at least the brains to hide when he did before the attack and had lived long enough to make it here to confront them. Had they not a plan for the rat this might have been as far as her luck would have taken her, but every new empire needs to start somewhere and killing any potential is not best for those starting as they were.

Orthien sat for a while as the girl gloated about her self taught nack in simple thievery and survival skills and about how she had used trash and corpses to evade the Hellions grasp.
He and Vayr'kala then spoke of there would be empire and what it had to offer the more skilled street dweller such as herself.

As the hour grew later Orthien left the table as the two girls continued to speak and headed back to the shop to collect his new apparel.
As he approached he knew something was very wrong. He pressed himself against the nearest wall catching what shadows he could as he moved. He drew his blade as he drew closer and could better see the sate of the building. The front window, though usually boarded was broken and open, a display case lay shattered and slightly singed in the street. The front door stood ajar leading into the silent darkness beyond.

Reassured by the quiet from within he entered. The store lay in ruins, lite only my the light from the street.
He was surrounded by broken shelves and armor with blaster burns. Blood covered the ground, both Dark Eldar and Alien.

*CRASH*

Orthien dropped to the floor as what once looked to be a weapons rack behind the counter fell to the floor, a shadowed figure leaning beside it.
"Hello?" "Who's there?" croaked the voice of the shop keeper. The voice was strained and weak, far more than usual.

Orthien carefully stood and stepped into the light. The owner was covered in blood, much of it appeared to be her own and could barely stand by herself.
"They destroyed everything." She spluttered a sense on urgency in her voice. "Everything but this" as she spoke she pressed a hidden rune against the wall. A panel shifted revealing a suit of Kabalite Armor in perfect condition within.
"...finished not long before" she paused to spit blood on the floor "not long before they arrived."
"Managed to shoot one" she said as she slumped to the floor. "He took a Blastpistol to the leg...." She trailed off as she looked down at her blood stained body, her eyes glazing over.

She looked straight at Orthien "They were looking for you". No sooner had she forced out these last words did her body fall sideways to the ground, the sweet taste of suffering leaving the air.

Orthien quickly slipped into his new armor. It fitted perfectly he thought as he checked his new poisoned blades. Then into the shadows he ran, quietly making his way back towards the tavern.

What was this cold sensation? What was this feeling that had elevated her heart beat so dramatically? To snatch away another’s life, to consign their soul to the Thirster, it was to have control. She had a level of control over others that she had never felt before and… it was thrilling.

She allowed herself to slump slightly, not noticing the boy’s threatening bodily movements. Her grip loosened as she was overcome with an ecstatic joy that felt like it was a necessary luxury that she had been deprived from all her life. Her mind raged, her young un-exposed psyche bathing in the depravity of her actions. It was exhilarating.
She hadn’t felt her grip loosen on the Pistol, but the sound it made against the ground was enough to snap her back into reality to see the boy’s blade being drawn.

He had asked her something. What was it?!

“I... I... I...” Xel’syth stammered as the boy drew his blade. The boy’s snarled question finally clearing in her mind brought her senses back to her, and her trueborn nature snapped out a response before she fully realised the danger she was in. “I just saved your life, urchin, and I think you should show a little gratitude, else I shall feed you to a fiend.”

Her response was too late. His blade was out in the air and his eyes burnt with a flaming lust, a lust akin to the excitement she had felt through murder.

In her mind she weighed up her choices. She could reach out for the Blast Pistol and risk death, or she could recoil.

Gritting her teeth time stood still. Her mind’s haze was difficult to break, but once a clear thought broke through what she could do was so obvious. Stepping up she dragged the Blast Pistol back with her foot and then leant down, the small bag jewels from her waist in her hand now. They rested in front of the pistol while her other hand gripped the trigger. She knew that the boy had heard the precious stones rattle.

“What’s my death worth to you?” She asked, hoping that he’d know her death spasms would result in a grand loss in potential wealth.

Vash couldn't help but laugh.

"You're going to threaten me with wealth I didn't have and don't need as a wager versus your life?" He considered for a moment just ducking forward and slashing her throat open anyway, just as a lesson in learning to aim. But...she was more focused on bargaining for her life than in trying to threaten his, which suggested the awkward ambush had been one of self preservation and the near miss on him had been simply atrocious shooting as opposed to an attempt to kill him as well.

"You killed a woman that was mine to kill. You owe me a warm meal, we can discuss what your life is or isn't worth after that."

He reached out and folded the blade of his kama back into place with a slight 'snick' and hid it back under his robe. He considered the girl for a moment, gauging her stance and the sneer that had sprung all too readily to her lips. She didn't belong on these streets...or rather, she was unaccustomed to them, in Vash's opinion most Eldarith Ynneas belonged on the streets.

"And I don't owe you anything because I didn't request your aid, and you shouldn't give away help freely - that's your first lesson.

What's your name and House?"