The Dooms Hidden COMPLETE

Chapter 13
Fear

The flailed skins hung on the walls always made him feel at home, no matter where he was.

He held up a vial, admiring the beauty of the purple-dotted liquid inside.

With steady, but swift, hands, he placed the vial back in the box, and drew forth another vial, and a syringe.

He never flinched when he injected the black liquid through his chin, and neither did any who watched him.

A small reptile was lazily daydreaming in a dark terrarium, rolling out its tongue once in a while, and watching its owner. The large saucer-like eyes intently followed him as he placed on a mask, clasping it tightly in to his face.

While still pulling on his robes, another figure appeared, and the lizard turned its eyes to follow.

“Master. We have spotted something new. We think that they have released something. If so, it proves what we had thought before. What will we do?”

“What we should always do”, the creepy voice echoed under the mask, “…destroy things that shouldn’t be there.”

“Master, I think it is coming for the camp! This could be serious!”

A heavy sigh could be heard from the mask. “What have I told you about panicking like that? Arrange a meeting with the tube tomorrow. You are going to die at your sleep tonight.”
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He spoke up. “Come on. We have to go quickly or something will catch us! You too, girl.”

The man next to him continued. “That’s right, pay attention, lass! This is a serious hostile ground, ya hear me!”

A third voice protested. “Shut up! Volerio said to take good care of her!”

“No he didn’t. He told us not to kill her. Have you seen me killing her yet?”

“Shut up…”

Anir is so weak. Defending a little craftworld-girl like that. Heck, I would have even rather had La on this mission than him. “Let’s hurry up, like we really should, damn it!”

“Yeah, as I said, this is serious! And also…”

“You keep your mouth shut, Shilo. You are the slowest one of us anyway. I bet the girl would win you in a race.” Idiots, all of them!

Anir interrupted again. “I don’t know, Shilo is kind of fast I think.”

What is wrong with him? A second ago they were fighting, now Anir is being nice to him… these guys are so…

“Idiots!” a fourth voice finally spoke up. Or shouted, more like. “Will all of you just be quiet! I’m very tired and I don’t like this place!” the girl screamed.

Shilo and Anir were both stunned momentarily. Since they couldn’t think of saying anything, the leader continued.

“I know, but we are almost there, so now everyone just be quiet, alright?” I hate listening to them. I hate them all.

The four were silent then. They continued navigating through the rubble, trying to keep their heads down and avoiding the ruined buildings.

They had been travelling through the streets of Commorragh for two hours when they reached their destination. They were supposed to get closer, but their escape pod had gone a bit of the wrong way.

The street divided, forming a Y-shape. Directly ahead of them was a large, round building with a crumbled roof as well as a ring of broken stairs leading to it.

“We should be safe now, no worries.” Just stop complaining now.

“Ya sure this place is empty?”

“Of course it is, Shilo. This is where we were told to go, and from all I know, commorrites are not very religious. Why would they be crowded in a shrine?”

“That place sure doesn’t look like a shrine. More like some museum for weapons. Just look at the carvings on that door!” Shilo persisted.

“Are you afraid? If you are, you can turn around now while the rest of us go to rest in there.”

“Nah I will come”, he said, head bowed low.

________

The vestibule was small, and completely empty. Whatever had been carved on the walls had faded long ago. Before the realm was even infested!

The group went on, Shilo and Anir at the lead.

Their footsteps echoed through the front hall, which was almost the whole building. There must have been a large shrine, but with the roof coming down, piles of rubble and stone had taken over. It was hard to tell what originally should have been there.

This doesn’t feel good… so many places for someone to hide… Maybe we shouldn’t be here after all.
He felt a light touch by his arm, and he turned to the craftworld-girl.

“I still don’t know what am I doing here, so…” she looked a little uncomfortable. “…well, you are not going to go out there and start hunting people or something? Or looting these places?”

“Well… no one has said not to loot stuff from here, but I can tell the guys not to. Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything. You can stay here, one of us will probably stay too. This will be sort of a hideout.”

“Oh. I see. If one will stay, what will the other two do?”

“That is nothing you need to concern yourself with, miss Yulethan’ia.”

“Sorry… umm…”

“Dae. My name is Dae.” …and she will start apologizing in three, two…

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I’m just horrible with names and all, sorry…” she spoke fast and stopped abruptly when the corsair stared her with annoyed eyes.

“Just come. I want to have a look around here. Shilo”, he pointed out Shilo ahead of them, “…is not that good at the lead, I can’t let him alone for too long. And Anir…” he raised his finger to point again, but this time his finger stopped at a shadow emerging behind the rubble.

A dark, armoured figure leaped forward, slashing with its large sword.

Dae watched as Anir was cut down, and he felt a surge of fear one could only feel when facing one of the varied denizens of the Dark City, when he saw the horned and white skull mask of the attacker.

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"The council will have an emergency meeting now. How quickly can you get everyone here?"

"Give me... four minutes if you don't need the snorer. Ten more if I have to wake him up."

"Go, quickly. Something is going on."

The woman bowed mockingly, and grinned her charming smile. Ijori twitched uncontrollably a bit, but remained silent.

They are going to think me crazy, but I know it... first I got that report, and now... the smell...

Chapter 14 is closing in, and featuring it will be:
- Finally some more revelations. You have heard the word "subject" here. Soon you will know what it has meant.
- The daemons interrupt a fight and descend upon their prey
- Intruders! Intruders at the camp!
- We see a mirror we have seen before.

Extra-long chapter
This should make a few things more clear, and while I am not going to say anything, feel free to comment if you figured out that "oh, so that guy was that guy from before!"

Chapter 14
Secrets and Experiments

Opru was grumbling and snapping his fingers, causing spine-chilling creaks under his long, red gloves.
He entered the largest tent, finding two of the council members waiting. Riflor flinched uncontrollably, like he had seen a ghost. In some ways, Opru agreed.

Woryc was already seated, and almost as nervous as Riflor. The young noble drummed his fingers and once in a while brushed his face with his hand, to hide the sweat.

"I can see that not all of us are here", Opru pointed out.

"Y-yes... that is well noted", Riflor quickly responded. He was shaking.

The haemonculus's cold eyes looked at the nobleman with intriqued eyes. Opru's breathing behind the gasmask was the only sound in the tent.

"Tell me, Uzerafick. Do you know a man named Thefan?"

Opru was pleased from the surprised reaction. He continued.

"Has it ever occured to you that keeping your secrets may not always be the best choice?"

"Opru, stop it. He is tired, and you don't have any reason to interrogate him."

The haemonculus had already forgotten Woryc. "Really, I do not? That is a shame..."

Opru turned around as someone was entering the tent. It was a lhamaean.

She is one of Ijori's lackeys... I should see her killed or displaced soon, or it could be trouble. "Well hello, do you have any news for us? Where are the rest of the council?"

"Ijori is on his way. In the meantime, I thought you would be interested to know that there is an intruder by our camp. We have been tracking it for some time, and from what it seems like, it has come from Tal'varrecht."

"Tracking? Now why have you tracked it? Is it... a criminal?"

"No. Belindy should know better, I am unaware of their reasons."

"Their? You mean Ijori and Belindy?"

Woryc interfered again. "Wait, we have an intruder at the camp? Who is it? Are the guards looking for him?"

"Of course..." the lhamaean purred, "...they are not. I received these instructions as well. The intruder is not to be stopped."

"What? Why?"

Opru sneered. "I think I know why. Because Belindy wants to know who it wants to kill."

It was right at that moment when the hideous smell entered the room. Even Opru noticed it. He turned around and saw the cloth at the back of the tent torn off.

"I am not here to kill", a very hoarse voice spoke, "I am here to search."

Riflor collapsed on to the floor.

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The mirror reflected a glowing image. So glowing that a mechanical arm quickly extended to cover the mirror with a blanket.

"They are on to us, it seems. And they have got more prisoners, as well. That much I did see."
"I do not understand, brother. How?"

"Vazek was a useful pawn, even though he never officially made it into our ranks. He is not as skillful as I had hoped."

"...the mirror is detectable?"

"Not only that, but also traceable. Luckily for us, even they are not stupid enough to go looking around in here. This is the perfect hideout."

"True, brother. But this hideout will not last for long."

"As long as we have enough time to catch them before they figure out how to destroy them, we will be fine."

Tunnfe walked up the stairs, and slowly nodded to her brothers.

"You bring good news, sister?" Rhogogo asked.

"Vect has given us one day here. And", she pulled out a card from her pockets. "...we now have access through the portals. We do not need to dispatch the guards."

"Good, good. Now, we just need to choose, who shall we get first?"

"Don't be silly, Ekkart. The Marquis of course."

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"Please don't hurt me."

No response.

"Are you going to kill me?"

No response.

He is a madman. He must have been taken over by Khaine! He is going to kill me!

The warrior slowly turned his head to look at the trembling craftworld girl. His large weapon was being held at a restful stance by his knees, but that didn't make Yule feel any safer.

A fury flew past them, and both of the eldar instinctly ducked more to be in the cover of the fallen pillar, which they were already both sitting against.

The screeches continued as the bat-like daemons flew around, clawing at each other in random, searching for a prey.

"Can... can you get me out of here? I don't want to die."

No response.

"We can't stay here forever!"

The warrior raised his finger to his skull helmet, indicating silence. Then he pointed at the sky (it didn't look like sky to Yule, but she didn't know much of the webway), and the red furies still menacing above.

"But how long will they stay? Wont they notice us?"

"No."

Yule almost jumped when he finally spoke. The voice was deep and quiet.

They both remained silent for a while. Yule looked around as much as she could see from their hiding spot.

They were close to the wall of the shrine, quite far from the door. Yule saw carvings going all the way up in the marble, until it reached the collapsed ceiling. She couldn't tell what most of them were about, but she saw one thing that catched her eye: a rune used at craftworlds. She wasn't sure, but she thought that it was one of the phoenix lords. The rune was on a faded figure who was fighting another one. The runes on the opponent were also visible to her, but she didn't understand them.

One of the furies made an angry shout and it must have bumped into something. A loud creak was heard, and then something heavy must have fallen on the floor. The warrior went suddenly very tense, and he looked like he would spring into action any second.

The furies seemed to have found something, and soon Yule couldn't see any of them above, but she still heard them screeching and flapping their wings.

The warrior acted suddenly, standing up and leaping over the pillar. His huge sword was easily held on his right hand.

Yule couldn't resist on staying where she was, and she got up and looked over the pillar at the large hall.

The scene almost made her want to vomit.

A small metal door had collapsed on the other side, and it seemed like that hundreds of flying, red bats were speeding towards it. Right under them, the warrior raced them, hopping past the rubble and the few bodies.

And when Yule looked at the bodies, she ducked back at the pillar. She had seen the severed head of the young corsair she remembered to have been named Anir, as well as the clawed husk of the one who had been named Shilo.

A hand reached for her, and Yule would have screamed unles that hand wouldn't have covered her mouth.

She turned her head and saw Dae.

"Be quiet, girl. That pesky commorrite will hold those daemons for some time. We are going to run."

Yule had seen Dae charging the warrior with the skull helmet, and she had seen the warrior swinging his huge sword and Dae being thrown aside.
Then she saw the large cut on his shoulder, which was still bleeding.

Lifting her up with his working hand, Dae squinted at the door, decided it was clear, and started running, trying to pull Yule with him.

They made it through the vestibule, and when they got out and to the stairs, they stopped abruptly.

A large, hulking creature was looking at them. It was like a huge, black dog with sharp claws and teeth. It stamped the ground and stared up the stairs with its red eyes.

Dae quickly backed away and soon the two eldar ran back inside, with the monster trampling the stairs behind them.

The furies greeted them, and they both stumbled over, crashing on the rough, dusty floor. Yule managed to quickly get up, and she decided to take Dae by the arm and pull him towards the collapsed metal door.

The corsair managed to get into some kind of position where he could run and still be pulled by her and still have his back bent to the same level as his knees.

They ran into a dark room, and Yule briefly noticed a painted spear in the fallen door they passed over.

They were greeted once again by the furies, but this time they were lifeless balls of red that flew past them as the warrior slashed and punched and kicked at them.

"Damn, go back, go back", Dae mumbled and tried turning Yule around, but the craftworld girl proved stronger than the corsair this time.

"He may have attacked us at first, but he is not a daemon!"

"You, help." the warrior said, huffing in his plated armour. He quickly pointed with his weapon at a desk on the corner of the small room, then swinging it again to cut one of the daemons in half.

Yule walked to it and saw something she had tried to avoid for some time. Weapons.

She saw pistols, a sword, knives, and a rifle. She hesitated for a bit, but when she realized that the little bat-daemons at the hall were coming back to them, she took the rifle and quickly tried to figure out how it worked.

Dae wrestled free from her grip, and he lunged at the desk, quickly grabbing a sword and a pistol. Then he shot at the warrior.

"Dae! Stop!"

The warrior grunted at the splinter that had struck him on the back of his neck, and he dropped his weapon.

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"Stay where you are. I want to see how this goes."

"I will stay, but I will help him."

Woryc had slowly, ever so slowly, walked over to Riflor and he had just started dragging him further from the creature when it spoke again.

"Surely we can speak without killing? Are you not curious?" the hoarse voice asked, reeking swamp with every breath, filling the tent with a nauseous air.

"We are curious indeed", Opru answered, "but your value as an item of curiousity is significantly small. I would rather..."

"You haemonculi are all the same. You are so proud of yourselves and you deny possibilities you do not see." The creature looked angry.

Ijori darted into the tent, and almost darted away as soon as he had noticed their guest.
The llhamaean whispered something in to the former sybarite's ear, and left the tent.

Woryc slowly placed the unconscious Riflor on to the ground, and as he stood up straight, his eyes quickly looked at Ijori's. He couldn't tell what was going on in his head.

Only now Woryc looked clearly at the creature.

It was, at least at some point of its life, an eldar. But it was difficult to say what it was now.
Its face was covered with a skull. The skull of what, Woryc couldn't tell, for the creature was dirty and covered in slime, moss and something incomprehensible.

It didn't seem to have any clothes at all, or if it did, they were clung on to it like a second skin.
Its teeth were visible from the opening of the skull. The creature bared them often, showing something that resembled more like fangs dripping ooze, more than any healthy eldarish teeth. Woryc reminded himself to brush his teeth tomorrow.

But while this creature was barbaric and monstrous, it was still clearly intelligent. It was holding a short sword on its left hand, and a dirty skyboard on the right. Woryc had seen a few hellions before, but never had he seen them holding their priced transports so easily, like it didn't weight more than a feather.

"You... indeed", Opru started, "...do look like someone, with, uhm, experience from covens. But I do not appreciate your point of view on that. I doubt your babbling will have any interest for me, besides on a study how soiled barbarians, that smell like mushrooms, can speak."

The creature snorted, and spoke again. Weirdly, it kept staring at unconscious Riflor, like it would be speaking to him. "I have come here to help you. You do not know what kind of a mess you have got yourself in. And even knowing the mess, you couldn't deal with it without help."

"I pressume that help would be from..." Opru started again.

"Be quiet, flesh-carver. This world belongs to daemons now. You know that, you all know that. What you don't know, this place has been made into a playground for a coven", the creature looked angrily at the closest haemonculus in sight, "...and not only for them, but for the great four."

"Great four?" Woryc asked, after having listened intently.

"Khorne. Tzeentch. Sla..."

"She-Who-Thirsts!" Ijori shouted suddenly, but the creature continued, uninterrupted.

"...esh, and Nurgle. You haemonculi," the creature repeated the look at Opru again, "have always done stupid things, and you never say they are stupid unless they are made by someone else. Well, one of you stupid haemonculi once thought, why not create a daemon."

Ijori gasped, Woryc was excited. Opru was silent, and no one could tell what he was thinking under his mask.

The creature continued. "The Coven of Banished Apocalypse first tried creating a perfect tool for the most violent death. They studied Khorne, and after choosing the most deranged man from the streets, they cursed him with their terrible experiments! He was their first subject.

"Next, they wanted to make a creation of pure horror and disqust, one that was neither subtle nor swift, but one who no one would even dare to approach.

"Then they did their greatest mistake. A mistake that must immideatly be corrected. They made a cunning creature, that was cunning and smarter than any haemonculus ever was. He..." the creature spoke dramatically, if even bitterly, "...he took control first over his creators. Then he led others to believe he could be captured, and he found, no, he was given, a safe place to learn more and more and to set his own goals.

"The fourth one was never finished, because the first one had to be chained at all times, the second escaped, and the third seized power and influence for himself."

Opru slowly clapped his red gloves together, and Woryc could tell he was smiling a malicious smile right now. "Well said. I thought I was going to hear grumbling of a swamp-beast, but I got to hear the ranting of a mad harlequin!"

"The thing you call 'Marquis', is an eldar possessed by Tzeentch, you fool!" the creature shouted, and for the first time during the conversation, people were readying for a possible attack from either side.

"It would be smart to assume so", a new voice said, entering the tent. Belindy flashed a smile to everyone who looked back, and she walked over to Opru. "I think you should shut up." Then she walked over to Woryc. "I think you should shut up, as well. But not as much as Opru", she smiled, causing the young noble to uncontrollably blush and to hide his face from confusion. Then Belindy gently tapped Riflor's shoulder, and, after noting that he wouldn't wake up right now, decided to leave him there.

"Are you here for the sarcasm of a ganger, or possibly for the arrogance of women? Do not speak trivials to me", the creature snarled.

"But I'm here for you, my smelly friend. Don't worry!" She turned around and looked at Opru and Woryc again. "I can't believe it you are so calm! You still haven't figured out that you are in the same room as a daemon?"

Woryc's hands uncontrollably reached first at his forehead, then at his splinter pistol on his belt. He was a bit relieved to notice that Opru seemed shocked as well. But the creature made no move to attack, at least not yet.

"You..." the haemonculus started, "...do not look like a daemon."

"Four eldar were made for the chaos gods, flesh-carver. I am one. A freak created by the Banished Apocalypse."

"Wait a second then..." Ijori spoke, after having apparently gathered a lot of courage to do so, "...did you mention yourself earlier? Are you... the third?"

Opru answered. "Obviously so, Ijori. This creature apparently cannot even make up a story without including a smelly character in it."

"Oh. So... if you are the third... for which god were you then?"

The creature bared its smelling teeth again. Woryc was certain that it was for a smile.

Chapter 15 is ready, and it will feature:

- A conclusion to the drama of the 'daemon'-intruder at the camp
- Stuff about dreaming/dreamers
- An incubus in distress

Everything is still weird and the 'heroes' of the story are only about to realize what they must do to accomplish their "noble goals" (even though "noble goals" does include saving Commorragh, at least for some)

I am still interested in readers favourite characters, as well as any guesses on where this is going.

I'm still all the way back in part 2 but I do have a question, and I don't mean it as a judgement, it's just a point of curiosity.

Did you originally write part/all of this as a non-DE story?
I ask because there are certain elements (hackers, a noble gaining renown for his philanthropic donations) that feel a bit off to me in the concept within my own head about DE. It could easily be simply that we have different vibes, but it was unusual enough that I almost felt like it had been modified. Just me?

Currently my favorite character is Yba..but I'm still at a point wherein not many characters have been fleshed out enough to allow me to tell whom I like or don't.

Thor665 wrote:

Did you originally write part/all of this as a non-DE story?
I ask because there are certain elements (hackers, a noble gaining renown for his philanthropic donations) that feel a bit off to me in the concept within my own head about DE. It could easily be simply that we have different vibes, but it was unusual enough that I almost felt like it had been modified. Just me?

Well noted, I was actually a bit unsure on writing those, since I have never even heard of Dark Eldar hackers or anything. But no, I wrote this for DE, and the whole "hacker in the basement" is just something I figured any Sci-Fi city should have, especially Commorragh.
For the donations, I believe the nobility liked it just because the arena wouldn't have been able to host any gory fights if someone wouldn't have supported it!
Surely even Dark Eldar can be generous if it allows them to see people getting maimed! Or... maybe the marquis had some other reasons...? Who knows?

I am back at writing this! I will post chapter 15 soon (it has been written some time ago, still editing it a bit), and I'm well on the way on chapter 16.

Still wondering has anyone ever read this far  

Chapter 15
Filthy liar and traitor!

"Dum-de-dum-dum, dum-dum-dum..."

Eyes slowly opened, while the ears tried to listen to the sound.

The eyes did not see anything but fog. The cellar was dim but clear, the fog was just in the eyes themselves. The ears also had a little trouble hearing.

The hand slowly reached to try feel out what there was around the waking eldar.

Metal. Cold metal.

A cage...

"Scourges, what a marvelous present! This should be plenty to do..."

A dream?

The figure was now seen a bit more clear. The eyes looked through the metal bars, seeing a disfigured body.

A dream.

"But oh my, this isn't right. I forgot to give you enough medicine, did I?" The figure came closer. "Here you go. Back to sleep, we won’t be needing you just yet."

The eyes noticed the syringe, but never felt its sting. Then they were closing again.

"He wants everything to be just right when he arrives. He will come, you will see. And they will come. We have made it so they will come."

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The incubus tried to fight back, but he could not.

His senses were not their sharpest right then, and he was not sure what was going on.

The secret door... I made through the secret door... at least it should be safe past there... but is it? And where... where is he?

"Stop struggling, you will just pass out again if you do."

The incubus reached his arm at the direction where the voice came from, and he grabbed someone else's arm and pulled it down.

The craftworld-woman fell over him, and the incubus tried to roll over. But he could not. His legs refused to move, they just twitched. He felt the pain on his neck coming back.

The intruders of the Shrine. They followed me.

"Stop that! I'm trying to help you!"

Now I remember... they came to the Lord archon's room... I requested their help against the infernal beings.

The incubus reached out to remove his helmet. His vision was still blurry, and removing it didn’t help.
The woman got up and backed away. Her shoulder was bleeding from the spikes at the helmet. She shouted at the incubus.

"If you do that again, I’m leaving you here! I mean it!"

He dropped the helmet and tried to get up again, but his arms failed and he collapsed back to the ground.

The craftworld-woman had stopped talking. She had just realized that it indeed was an ordinary eldar beneath the armour. Even a young one, with well cut black hair, and no scars or anything horribly unsettling.

Seems like the best way to deal with this now appears to be talking... "I cannot follow you. Go away or I will kill you."

The incubus realized how stupid his words were even before he finished them. The woman responed. "You are poisoned and unable to move. You are not that scary like that. You will more likely die if I leave you here."

I cannot be dependent on her. But.... "I need to get the splinter out. It will stop it from getting worse, but after that I will need something to help me walk with."

"Get... out? Uh... how?"

"Do you know surgery?"

The woman was taken aback, and she looked a bit terrified. "No..."

"Then I will try myself, but could you help me get my armour off? The splinter managed to pierce through the neck-plates. The only weaker spot is behind the knees." I doubt she will try to steal anything... after all, I don't have anything impor... "Wait!" I have to go back and get the item. Lord Archon's life will likely depend on it! "I need to..." There could still be daemons out there, I can't go in a state like this, and she will be no help at all in that. "...nevermind, just help me now."

The undressing of the plates was still mostly done by the incubus himself, for the craftworld-woman was wary of the spikes now. But soon the torso part was removed and he tried to find the splinter on the back of his bare neck.

After he located it, he quickly and surely ripped it off, tearing away some flesh with it.
He had closed his eyes, but he heard the woman gasp.

The incubus sighed for not thinking of any bandages earlier. The pain on the neck was only increasing, and he dropped the bloody heap at his hand. He was about to pass out again.

Before he did, he felt the woman's arms at his neck, and soft cloth wrapped around the wound.

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"Resistance is futile, you punks. Turn back or you will all die."

"Why don't you come in here and say it? I didn't quite hear you!"

"I think I have made my point already." The warrior raised his splinter cannon, slowly turning it around towards all of the scourges until they all backed away.

The leader of the scourges was itching to raise her shardcarbine, but she resisted. Instead, she threw more insults. "Y'know, there was a big massacre at one of the portals in Tal'varrecht. The Blood Mouth portal. The place is right next to my home. Some of my friends wanted to get out that way."

"Blood Mouth portal? Hah! It doesn't even lead anywhere now." The warrior looked around for encouragement, and some of the warriors cheered him on a bit.

Ifgen froze for a moment, uncertain. She was glad they could not see her face behind the golden mask. "It had been active. I know it has."

"Not possible, Nal'Shur and Tal'varrecht are not even connected anymore. You must be quite stupid, bird!"

"Believe it or not, fool. We scourges have our ways." Ifgen was not telling the whole truth again, but they didn't need to know that. She just wanted her prey to fear before being hunted down.

"Well, then go ahead and tell of your 'ways' to Vect, I dare you! I'm sure he will be happy to hear that even scourges can lie."

Ifgen was never good at reacting to insults on her own. She had blasted the guard on the wall before her fellow scourges realized to draw their weapons.

As she had presumed, there were more in hiding than shown.

She lost four of her wing-brothers, leaving her with a small group of seven. They were all looting the bodies and cutting a feather from each of their fallen, for either later resurrection or a ritual burial, depending on how usable the scourge was.

"We will be greeted by more of them once we go through the portal." Zherio noted, leaning against his haywire blaster while casually eyeing at one of the fallen kabalites's necklace.

"It does not matter now. We are to escape here. We will not return to Tal'varrecth, we will not return to our home. So we just have to get past another line of guards, that's all."

"Still. We have been employed by Thefan, have we not?"

"He is dead by now. Either by one of his little traitorous minions, by corsairs, or by that marquis. He is dead."

Zherio sighed. Ifgen had already started shouting commands to the rest of the scourges, and they were preparing to storm out of the portal.

The seven scourges formed a line, and then they ran, slowly at first, towards the small arch containing the portal, leaving the ruins of Vicious Roma behind.

Ifgen is a weak leader. As soon as we weren't dependant on Thefan anymore, she has brought us to our doom.

Zherio broke apart from the formation as soon as they emerged from the other side. He didn't look back as he flew past the alarmed kabalites, but he heard how a venom-craft flew over him and started to fire its cannons.

____________________________________________________________________________________

"You are a fool. Not a daemon, a fool."

"It does not matter do you believe a wanderer or not, you are still plagued by things stronger than you."

"Enough, you two", Ijori stepped between the haemonculus and the smelly creature. He was planning on pushing them away from each other, but decided that he would rather not even dare touch either of them.

The creauture, or daemon as Belindy had said, looked once more at the unconscious Riflor. Then it noticed Woryc, and sniffed the air noticably.

"Dear Ijori, shouldn't the council now vote on how to deal with this beign?" Opru suggested. Ijori quickly figured it was actually an order.

The 'beign' responded after a brief silence. "I will leave this place, but I have a task to do before that." Woryc flinched as he heard its voice. It had changed its tone to something... determined.

"Task?" Woryc slowly asked, very uncomfortable from the fact that the creature kept staring him.

"The smell has brought me here. I need the eladrith by your feet."

Woryc looked down at Riflor. He had considered of lifting him on one of the chairs, but given up on the idea after noticing the heavy looking ghostplate.

"Why do you look for this meaningless man?" Opru asked, once again curious.

"The smell."

"And, I once again present you, our very own fool." Opru chuckled a bit to himself before continuing. "Now, let's kill it, I'm getting tired of it."

"Hold on!" Hoolon had finally found his way to the tent, escorted by the lhamaean. "What is going on here?"

"Well. The whole council is here now, as well as a few uninvited guests, so we should finally gather to vote?" Opru sighed, but assuring himself that he would get his way even through democracy.

The creature, however, did not wait for any votes. It leaped forward, hopping on to the skyboard and boosting it over the council's desk.

Woryc backed away, not even trying to stop the thing.

Riflor was still passed out as the creature grabbed him and lifted him up. And, once again, the creature sniffed the air.

Ijori had took a rifle and was raising it, aiming it on the creature's neck. Before he could fire, Belindy calmly placed her hand on the gun's muzzle.

"Don't be too hasty!" she whispered. "I want to hear more."

The creature had apparently noticed another smell, this time on Woryc. "I... smell a dreamer. Two of them."

Woryc had reached the soft cloth at the corner of the tent, and he was considering on pulling it up and trying to run away. The creature came closer, turning the skyboard to face Woryc. Riflor was still being carried on one of its hands, his feet dragging the ground.

"Now, do tell, what is a 'dreamer'?" Opru was coming closer, still very certain that the creature would not be a threat.

"Master... sent me... to..." the creature spoke with difficulty. It looked like it had trouble breathing. It didn't look at Opru, only listening to his voice.

"Master? Who is your master? I thought you left them?" While Opru was speaking, Belindy took the splinter rifle from Ijori. The sybarite was unresponsive, not trying to stop her.

"Yes... but..." The creature stopped, looking intently at Woryc.

*bang*

The creauture howled as it was shot from the splinter rifle. Riflor fell down, and Woryc ducked and pulled up the cloth to escape the tent.

Belindy fired again, this time between the eyes of the creature that had turned to face the attacker.
The skyboard went out of control, and the creature tumbled down from it.

Opru had simply backed away, cursing to himself.

The desk was split in half as the skyboard smashed into it.

A silence fell.

Belindy handed the rifle back to Ijori, and went ahead to examine the corpse.

Hoolon had drawn a sword, but after figuring out that there was not going to be any more fighting, he sheathed it.

Ijori held the rifle a little absently, still not quite clear what had happened and why.
The lhamaean had walked over to him, clearly confused as well.

"So, what did we learn from this?" Belindy asked, poking at the rotten leather clothes clinging to the skin of the creature.

No reply came, so she continued. "Someone has made four eldar into daemons, or something like them.
"The Marquis appears to be one of those.
"But the Marquis is smarter than his creators. Tzeencht.
"This one, Nurgle, had escaped.
"...but is still controlled by someone. He follows commands through some sort of instinct or perhaps through some modifications in his head?
"Which means that the Marquis could also very well be controlled by someone.
"And also, daemons don't carry anything interesting." She left the corpse, having noticed that it is indeed nothing more than stinking flesh, a bone mask and remains of old clothing.

After Belindy had walked back to Ijori, Opru went over and took off the creature's mask.

"You had to check what his face looked like?"

"I was surprised that you didn't."

"Well?"

"Looks like me before surgery-mornings...”

"Wait", Ijori interrupted, "What just happened?"

"Everything that the daemon said was true, except for the part that he did not obey his masters anymore", Belindy said slowly, as if talking to a child. "That means that we are in deep deep trouble, because somewhere out there, maybe in Nal'Shur, there are haemonculi who seem to be very dangerous, who can summon daemons and all."

"Haemonculi?" Opru snorted. "You have to blame us for everything? You only have assumptions."

Woryc slowly came back to the tent, lifting up the cloth from the same spot he had gone.

_________________________________________________________________________

The council did not keep a meeting like it had been planned.

Instead, two corpses were taken to Opru's attention.

Riflor had died at some point, but no one could say to what.

The whole camp did not have enough materials and good grounds to set up a reviving station, so soon, after a quick vote, news were passed on that they were looking for a new council member.
The council though agreed to keep the incident as a secret, and try to find out more from the corpse. Belindy still seemed to know more than what she said.

The lhamaean, who had only briefly been at Ijori's service, was later found dead at the outskirts of the camp.

Opru, as well as Woryc, tried to investigate more of had the creature been allowed inside the camp, but Ijori and Belindy both remained silent.

---------------------------------------
---------------------------------------

Well, there it is. Weird stuff again.
The next chapter is already written, but I won't be posting it until I have got the next ones ready.
Although I will reveal that it will feature:
- A funny start of an unintelligent rule obeying ("Do not kill anyone...")
- Yet another new character who keeps cursing his luck.
- Mandrake!!!
- Two old characters who haven't been around for some time, finally show up.

It'll be interesting to see who comes back ...

And there are potentially still 3 more daemons at large   

(a few spoilers in this post if you havent read everything yet)

Lady Malys wrote:

It'll be interesting to see who comes back ... 

Guess who I couldn't resist writing more about!

Lady Malys wrote:

And there are potentially still 3 more daemons at large   

Four great daemons for the chaos gods, one was indeed shot.
I believe I already revealed another, a little weird that he is indeed a daemon of... you know, the clever god.
The two others... I think I already sort of revealed one while kept the character in mystery, and the last... who knows where he/she/it is? Maybe we already have met him/her/it?

Also... is it obvious that the nurgle-eldar was... y'know, the guy in the very first chapter and the few other ones? If it isn't, boom, there I told it. Same guy out there hunting, smelling, and looking at stars.

I enjoyed this chapter quite a lot, Mngwa.

I admire the amount of writing you get done. This was very enjoyable!

Quote :

"Resistance is futile, you punks. Turn back or you will all die."

When you see this you know that there shall be fun.

Chapter 16
Plans of Removal

Do not kill anyone… do not kill anyone… do not kill anyone…

The tall man kept repeating his instructions while walking forward with his slightly disfigured, short but strong legs. His pace was casual, he didn’t feel any form of hurry.

Do not…
His eyes widened as he turned around the corner. Bodies littered the ground.

I did not kill anyone.

The portal was kept in at a tightly secured location, around a chasm and next to a few bunkers. Only a few of the Black Heart’s finest were around now, and all they were doing was clearing away the corpses.

Rhogogo decided that since he had not killed anyone, he could proceed.

A sybarite stopped the man as he was on a patrol.

“Who are you, and what is your business here?”

Rhogogo held up the card high above the sybarite, who had to back away and crane his neck up to read it.

“I see. Go ahead then. I don’t care if you want to go there to die.”

Rhogogo was pleased, and he placed the card back into his sleeve, and walked closer towards the portal.

He was yet stopped by many kabalites, who were mostly concerned about the sybarite. Rhogogo understood that there had been a bet on was the ‘big guy’ going to smash his brains in. One warrior accused Rhogogo for his own failure to advance in rank now.

The portal was close, the shimmering surface looking very inviting. It was placed within the back of one of the bunkers, like it was tried to be kept hidden somehow.

Rhogogo did not notice it, but a dying scourge tried to escape on her last strength and fly away before the kabalites shot her down. The bird-like eldar plummeted down, her golden mask clattering on to the dusty ground.
____________________________________________________________________________________

Yrag cursed his luck. He always knew he had chosen wrong, he always knew. He knew he should have listened to his friends and joined a larger shrine, a better one. But he had joined an ancient and long forgotten one, with only a little temple that had not been repaired in the last millennia.

And when the daemons invaded, he cursed his luck for not having been employed as a guard to one of the archons at corespur, no, he had been left behind to see over the temple.

Later he cursed himself for not getting killed. Instead, he now had to follow his duties and try to save his shrine.

His orders had came from the new hierarch, who stayed underground, hiding in the midst of slaves, hoping the daemons won’t find there. He was to gather the remaining incubi by the temple, as well as an archon who had been granted sanctuary there.

He cursed his luck when he had encountered a huge daemon beast, and he cursed his luck even after he had managed to escape it just to see a host of winged daemons flying all around him.
He felt a little comfort when he saw the beast to have found new victims, some lucky citizens who had managed to live this far.

Then he cursed his luck when he realized that the citizens had been in the temple, like it was some tourist attraction.

He did not use the front entry, of course. The secret door was located in a ruin nearby. He cursed his luck that the door didn’t open the first time he tried pulling it.

He cursed his luck when he encountered a corsair, of all the things, in the tunnel.

He cursed his luck that the corsair had managed to scratch him a bit before he had killed him.

Then finally, when he had got tired of cursing, he found out a shrine-brother kept hostage by another one of the realspace-kin.
____________________________________________________________________________________

The Mandrake was crouched next to the Thief. It toyed around with its dagger, poking its tattoos and balancing it on its finger.

Belindy had long since given up her attempts to catch one off guard. She simply approached the statue from the side, making sure no one was following.

“There is news.”

“The news is why I came.” Belindy had been very tired and careful since the daemon had spoken to them at the camp. She still wondered would it have been smarter to let it go. But the thing was dead, or something like that now.

“There is a hunt.”

“For who?”

“Who indeed… who indeed…” the mandrake said, rubbing its hands together.

Belindy dug up a smelly rag from one of the disturbingly many pockets in her suit, and threw it at the mandrake.

“What… is this?”

“It is your prize.”

“It is a rag!”

“It is not good enough for you?”

The mandrake looked at the rag now, wondering. It let out a voice that sounded like a sigh, and continued. “The Marquis is in danger. It is hunted. Who hunts him, I am not sure. I feel that the creators are involved, but… they are using a crude tool.”

“So the Marquis will be killed?”

“It could be so. His warriors are upset, and he is losing more of them every day. If the hunters find a way to his palace, he is doomed.”

“Would you say that they need help?”

“I… I don’t know. It is not usual for me to ponder those things.”

“I will help them. Getting rid of the Marquis could help us a lot.”

“Yes… and also, don’t forget. The Marquis still has… that other one. I have failed to see what the hunters want with him.”

“Thank you.”

“Wait… there is yet something.”

Belindy turned, leaning against the statue. She wished the mandrake would hurry up sometimes.

“There is something else below. A place a friend of mine called ‘the heart of the webway’. It is no heart more than a labyrinth, but it is dangerous. Something is there, and I have seen, I know, for certain, that you are going there. The creators find the place important. The place… is full of energy from the warp. It is psychic.”

“…”

“That is all.” The mandrake backed away, melting into the Thief.

Belindy remained still for a long time, even though the council was supposed to have a meeting soon. She didn’t mind that she was going to be late, though.
____________________________________________________________________________________

Mozarz had been having weird dreams again.

They came every time she went to sleep. She would appear in a dark chamber, where nothing could be seen. It made her hope for light. She heard the angry screams of a strange creature, but the weirdest part was that even though the creature very much sounded eldar, it spoke in a crude mon-keigh language, which she could not understand.

Yet she still wished to dream, rather than to live the hollow nightmare that is life.

She had never even got a chance to see Vect. Yet she made it to the very core of Commorragh. Where exactly was she now, she did not know.

Her captors were haemonculi, she had no doubt.

They made her look through a mirror, and tell what she saw. And she saw many things.
There was a woman, one which Mozarz felt disgusted by, and a man, almost as disgusting. The woman was clever, and she was using the man to help her. They fought, against many things: Daemons, so weird and fascinating, as well as other eldar, kabalites and gangers.

Then there was a cage with a man in it. It looked familiar. She never saw it clearly.
Her waking moments were spent watching dreams, her sleeping moments dreaming even more. Yet dreams at least, she knew, were her own, and not real. At least that is what she kept telling herself.

____________________________________________________________________________________

The armed corsair took a deep breath, before finally raising his shuriken catapult.

Two Ynneas on the right.

He had not forgotten that he could not speak to his comrade through the mind right now, but he kept up the habit.

The two wracks charged, trying to surround the corsair, but he rolled over, nimbly firing once, somersaulting under the rail, landing on the stairs leading deep underground.

One of the wracks fell, but the other threw off a sharp knife before falling back.

The corsair jumped down again from the narrow stairs, looking for a better position of cover.
He had been making his way down the tunnel for many hours, fighting half the time.

There were stairs, spiraling corridors, laboratories and deadly pits waiting around each corner.
But the way went down, all the time.

With his objective in mind, Kozerog sprinted forward, feeling the cold, identical walls pressing around him, creating an illusion of not moving at all. The path seemed endless.

But he looked back and the stairs were far away. He stopped.

Noise. Ahead, and behind.

A huge, lumbering grotesque blocked the entire corridor in front of the corsair. It held a liquefier gun, and was not hesitant to raise it.

Kozerog acted quickly, knowing the flamer would be disastrous to fight against if not dealt with, especially at this space.

He did not bother to draw his sword, he simply turned the shuriken catapult around to reveal the sharpened back, leaping on the grotesque and slashing its deformed hand clean off.

The creature mumbled, angry. It tried to throw down the corsair with its stump, forgetting there was nothing to grab with. Kozerog quickly dropped down, keeping his blade attached on the creature’s back, opening it in a wide arc.

The sound of more opponents coming did not nerve him, for he simply walked forward, allowing the wracks to try and stumble their way over the large corpse blocking the corridor.

His teal armour was stained in dark red liquid that he still wondered if it was blood. He was tired, but he kept on. He would find a resting point soon.

And indeed, he had prepared to travel for days.

Chapter 17 is ready, will post it soon (possibly by weekend).

Featuring:
- A certain group hoarding prisoners
- Another group on a dangerous mission to save Commor... oh wait. Just a dangerous mission.
- Another DE-swear I thought up
- A slightly rushed plot towards the end-stage

I look forward to it! I enjoyed the descent of the Corsair into the labyrinth, it will be interesting to see where he ends up (and what happens after he does ...)

Chapter 17
The Royal

Tunnfe was more nervous than she had ever been. She was going to meet their grandmaster, who she heard to have managed to capture a daemon-eldar by himself. The place was a secret, called “the Heart”. She knew Ekkart had been there, but he refused to tell anything of it.

They were to bring The Marquis, another daemon-eldar, to the Heart. The Grandmaster would tell what to do with them, and what was their next task.

She came in to their quarters just as Ekkart was preparing for the journey.
“Sister, the portal will be ready soon. Rhogogo will be on time.”

“Are you sure… that he can do it? And… and what if it won’t be there anymore? Our maps were old, weren’t they?”

“The old portal has always been there, and it cannot be dismantled, so I know. I am more concerned on whether they will all be awake when we get there…”

“Please tell me of it, brother. I want to know of it, how to reach it.”

“No, Tunnfe. No.”

“But I…”

They both heard the small steps behind the door. Something was spying them.

Ekkart wrapped the soulstone mirror in a veil and placed it back on the desk. Then his metal arms reached from his back to pull the curtains to the other side of the room, hiding the cage containing their prisoner.

Tunnfe was already opening the door, and she swiftly threw the poisoned dart at the figure behind it, before even seeing what it was.

It was a scourge, with bird-like feet and the wings of a raven. He was surprised, and the poison affected him quickly. He was already passed out when Tunnfe pulled him to their room.

“It has followed me, brother. I saw him at the hall when I was petitioning for Vect.”

“Well. Let us bring him along then, the Grandmaster is always happy with more prisoners.”
____________________________________________________________________________________

“We are going to die here, aren’t we?” Woryc said once again.

They were approaching the wall. It was a simple task walking inside, for the wall had collapsed.
There were a few critters around in the entry halls of the mansion, but no large daemons to worry about. Belindy kept her blaster ready nevertheless.

“Why did we come?” Woryc asked, once again.

Belindy was actually surprised that the other one didn’t complain. She was uncomfortable when she did not know her group, but she was ready to accept that if the situation required it.

Careful consideration made her select Woryc, of all the people. Then Woryc’s consideration, of which Belindy doubted the carefulness of, had made him select the warrior called Vinfer. Belindy dug out that Vinfer would be a poor choice in combat but more reliable than the average. Plus side would be that he was loyal to Woryc.

Belindy just wasn’t sure was Woryc loyal to her. At least he listened whenever she had something to say.

“Is everyone armed?” she asked, knowing full well that she should have paused long ago before they left to inspect what they had brought.

Their gear was nothing more than she expected, but she nodded approvingly at both the brutal liquefier gun looted from Opru’s stash as well as the relatively large mace carried by the relatively large male.

“I… um…” Vinfer said, fiddling with a container near his belt. “I got something else too, something I found from the palace some time ago. It is from your father, Woryc.”

“Show me.” The young man’s eyes glowed at the prospect of an artifact.

As he revealed the object, Belindy immediately muttered, “Vorsch’s weapons. That is very dangerous.”

“It’s… a shard?” Woryc said, frowning at it as he reached to take it.

“Don’t mirror the thing at me, damn you!” Belindy shouted, grabbing it from the arms of both Vinfer and Woryc. “I will keep this, or you will just break it by mistake!”

“But… it’s one of the Archon’s most prized trophies! He got it from…”

“Yeah, whatever. Maybe we can kill something with it, but only in an emergency, okay?”

Vinfer nodded enthusiastically and reached out take it back, but Belindy had already concealed it somewhere in her wychsuit and neither Woryc nor Vinfer had the courage to try getting it back now.

“Okay, let’s go. Now since both of you brought close range weapons for some reason, I will go first to see if anyone tries to ambush us. You come next, I will tell if the hall is clear.”

“But I have been here before”, Woryc protested, “shouldn’t I go…”

“So have I, just be quiet and wait for me.”


Belindy had not been gone long when a window exploded, sending a battered warrior in the colours of the marquis plummeting down on the ground.

Woryc ran to the corpse, then looked up at the window.

He saw a large shape, as well as a passing glint of a mighty axe.
____________________________________________________________________________________


Ainla wasn’t sure how to feel at a moment like the one she was going through. She often worried was she properly dressed for an occasion, but even though she was not fighting or planning to fight, she was glad she had her light, green armour gifted by one of her numerous fans. It was ornamental and a bit too revealing, making it more of a party-uniform than for combat, but she had nothing else to distinguish herself as an agent instead of a regular ranker.

She knew the Marquis didn’t like intruders, and she knew it had been given as a job for his guards to kill any. Her task was to be the intruder, not the defender.

So she simply stared as the strong haemonculus made quick and brutal work of all the eldar who fought with no regard for their own life. The brainwashed warriors were of no use against him, and Ainla just remembered how little the Marquis had servants left.

“This is now”, the strong haemonculus stated, lifting up his axe from the gory corpse at his feet. “This story is now ours.”

“No!” the Marquis shouted. He was dressed in his finest golden cape, as well as slippery, curved shoes and a white suit.

He walked up the stairs to the balcony overlooking the hall, to face the haemonculus. Then he walked back down. He couldn’t decide what to do.

“No, they will not!” he shouted in frustration.

The strong haemonculus wordlessly drew forth a red and black device, one in a shape of a small antenna. Ainla slowly moved closer towards the broken window, ready to leap down if need be.

It was only that there were three haemonculi present now. A shimmering portal had grown from the device held by the haemonculus, spitting out two more, before shrinking.

“Ahh, that was more pleasant than I would have thought.”

Ainla had crept to the window and was preparing to jump, but two metallic arms curled around her waist and pulled her back.

“You could be interesting as well. He may still want you”, Ekkart said.

No... not you again. “To Aelindrach with what he wants, crawler, I am done with all of you!”

“It is not that simple anymore, dear.”

The portal opened once more, and with it, came two round discs. They were, in fact, handcuffs. Tunnfe placed them on the dancer, locking Ainla’s arms behind her own back.

The two haemonculi seemed surprised to find no weapons on her, but what worried Ainla more was the Marquis. He was usually trouble when no one was paying attention to him.

But, this time, the well-dressed, fancy noble was quietly crouching at the stairs, staring nervously at the three. He started chewing his fingers, ignoring the fact that he still had his silken white gloves.
Ekkart lifted his finger, his very own, real finger, and pointed at the Marquis. “Come. I command you.”

“Ekkart, I...” Tunnfe started, but she stopped when she noticed that the Marquis indeed came to them.

He shivered in fear and looked like he would collapse if Ekkart would say anything directed at him.

“Just one thing before we leave. We still have a few more people to bring with us.”

Rhogogo raised a barely visible eyebrow at that, and, at Ekkart’s signal, he opened the portal yet again.

Two small cages came out, both barely fitting an eldar in them. It was impossible to see clearly through the numerous, thick bars, but the other one had wings sprouting from it, like it was a black angel of prisons.

“...Well, we have number three as well as a few extras. Now the only one missing is... one?” Tunnfe asked, looking slightly confused.

“Number one? Oh, he is waiting us at the other end of the elevator. Let’s go, the Heart awaits.”

And so, the group began to move, down the stairs, and deeper inside the mansion.

Ekkart was at the lead, followed by the shivering Marquis who seemed afraid to move too far from him. Tunnfe came next, while Rhogogo pulled with him the two floating cages with him. Ainla walked slowly behind them, but she dared not to go too slow. And she knew better than to turn around and run.

They reached a small living room, with a large, round corner cleared from all furniture. The Marquis let out a small shriek, but no one seemed to notice.

Ekkart stopped in front of the corner, and waited.

The wall began to glow.

A blue circle began to take shape, covering the corner. It made multiple patterns within it, all of them with an eerie light.

Then the wall inside the circle began to fade, and soon the corner was now a tunnel that went forth into the darkness.

The group went forward, and as soon as the Marquis had stepped in from the beautiful floor of the mansion on the cold stone, the chamber began to lighten up. But not so much, none of them could still see clearly.

Yet they did notice massive runic letters drawn on the wall, in red. What they were drawn with, wasn’t very clear.

The letters spelled “ALONE”.

“Ahh, hooligans. We should take better care of this place”, Ekkart stated.

“My cousin, you will not make fun of him!” the Marquis suddenly exclaimed. This time it finally gave him attention. Ekkart gave him a cold stare, which made the crazy noble back down.

“Now, now. Everyone inside, we are moving.”

“Brother... it isn’t here?” Tunnfe asked.

“Do not worry, sister. It went on ahead.”

The wall faded once more, the blue circle reappearing. Lights went out, and nothing was seen anymore. The chamber had sealed them inside.

Everyone was quiet, especially those three eldar who had quietly followed the group inside, not realizing to get trapped.

Trapped, in... an elevator.
____________________________________________________________________________________

Kozerog was quickening his pace. The net was closing, and he wasn’t sure what would happen.

He had heard so much of so many, but in the end, he had never known all the plans Volerio had done with the Phantom. But he was okay with it; he was used to being a pawn.

Although he did like to have free time once in a while...

He was already running. He heard the pursuers, but he was almost there.

He saw the door.

Volerio would be there, the Phantom would have arrived, and the coven would be already defeated.



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Well. Chapters are starting to run out already.

Chapter 18 will jump ahead a bit and presents a moment where the ending will begin, and after that only two chapters and an epilogue.

Chapter 18
Still

A large, round room.

One could walk through a pair of sturdy, stone doors and find himself looking up, where the fourteen pillars reached above into a ceiling of red mist.

What would catch their attention next would be the throne.

A large, stone throne, elevated on the far end, was reachable after a long walk straight ahead from the doors. The throne was a plain one, nothing grand except for the way it had been placed.
On the throne sat a haemonculus. The haemonculus looked old, very old. His eyes had long ago been replaced with glowing red gems that could see everything in the room. His robes were grey and old as well, but well maintained. The haemonculus was relatively short and it was unclear on could he even stand up, his legs peeking under the robes looking very fragile.

Then one would notice the cages. Fourteen cages set on every pillar.

The cages were not too high above; one could easily jump up to them and try to open them if they could.

Then there were two other cages, much different. More like pits.

On both sides of the throne, there were two pits sealed with metal bars. Two ragged figures were lying in both. Many purple wires and cables flowed from the corners of the pits, attached on to the backs of these pitiful people.

Next an onlooker would notice the other exits. Two tunnels, both evenly far from the throne as well as the doors, were leading to unknown.

Then one would pay more attention to the cages, as well as the people in them.

Three of the cages were different from the other eleven. They had a large, blue net draped over them, with a weird device on top.

And the people in them. Most of the cages had a person inside.

One of the cages contained a ganger, a prowler of the streets of Commorragh. She was angry but did her best to remain calm in the situation. Her face was clear and she felt no pain, unlike most of the prisoners.

One contained a clearly wounded eldar, with bandages wrapped around his chest. His firm stance revealed him as a warrior, relentless and careful not to show a sign of weakness. He felt lost without his armour and weapon, but he sat quietly and waited.

One contained a bat-winged eldar, a scourge. He still had a shred of his plate armour left, as well as a necklace he was clutching at his arm. He was only slightly conscious, trying his best to understand the situation he was in, and why.

One contained a larger eldar, with short black hair and nobly armour. He was mourning for the weapon he had lost as well as wondering if he would ever get a chance to relax again.

One contained a soldier in broken armour. He was not a commorrite, like most, but his bald face showed many scars that would make most Dark Eldar pause before insulting their cousins. He was injured with more scars on the way, but he had a few poorly made bandages on his wrists and shin to prevent their bleeding. His cage was one with a blue net.

One contained an upset eldar noble, who felt like he had grown tired of adventures. He was uninjured even though he looked like he tried pretending to be dead.

One contained a second incubus, this one still with his helmet and armour left on. His klaive had been taken, and he was angrily shaking the bars on his cage.

One contained a small, helpless craftworlder. She had unfitting clothes gained from corsairs and her face had a large bruise. She had curled up in her cage’s corner. The cage was one of the cages with a blue net.

The remaining cages were empty. But there were more people in the room.

One would notice a small party gathered near the throne.

Closest to the throne was an apparition of extended metallic hands, carrying a smaller figure above. The figure was saying something to the other haemonculus on the throne.

Near him was a third, and the largest haemonculus. He was still short but he was visibly strong and brawny. He was armed with a large axe, holding it against his shoulder. He seemed to be lost in thought. Or simply lost. He quietly stared at the floor.

Then there was another, a female haemonculus, but not any prettier than the other hideous ones. She had a face of concern on her, and she seemed to be trying to decide something. And to see something that she had not seen before. One of her arms was curled around a stinger pistol hidden in her cloak.

Next to her, kneeling on the cold floor was a beautiful eldar woman. She had ornamental armour but she looked right now anything but a warrior. She was scared, and she tried not to lift her eyes to look at anyone else’s.

Unable to remain quiet but unable to act, a strange looking freak of an eldar strolled around the group. He was dressed in very fancily, with a golden cape, and he looked like he was about to lose his mind completely very soon. He was very aware of both haemonculi near the throne.

Next one would notice, more from hearing than seeing, another character present.

Chained to the throne, a creature with slight resemblance to an eldar was about to let out another scream. It had no clothing, revealing all the tattoos on its black skin. They seemed to be glowing once in a while, more so whenever the creature made a noise. It rattled the chains, but seemed content, exchanging looks with both the haemonculus at the throne as well as the scared noble in the golden cape.

Lastly, and only lastly, would an onlooker notice the twenty guards, four of them right next to him.
Silent and watchful, these black-robed figures had long, curled swords dripping with poison ready to strike from the shadows. If one would look under their hoods, they would see a mask, as well as a neck with stretched skin and many stitches. These were the acothyst guardians.

The image stood still for a moment, and then everything came alive.

The creature roared, one of the incubi shouted while punching his cage, the craftworlder made a slight sob, the ganger muttered to herself.

And the haemonculus at the throne began to speak.



---------
---------

The ending stage is set. This scene had been planned long ago, but it kept changing. Originally, there was only one cage and the two pits. What are the pits for, and who was originally in the cage, you can guess yourselves!
Now... I hope I did not forget anyone and I hope you can understand at least a few of the people based on my descriptions!

Chapter 19 making progress. It is going to be very long.
Expect action, revelations, schemes, betrayal and deception as the causes of the daemonic invasion are seen, and witness my ultimate "DE villain" who hopefully is interesting enough for the short time you will know him. (Or the long time you get to know him, who knows?)

Quote :

action, revelations, schemes, betrayal and deception

Read this as betrayal and decapitation ... either way I'm looking forward to finding out more!

Lady Malys wrote:

Quote :

action, revelations, schemes, betrayal and deception

Read this as betrayal and decapitation ... either way I'm looking forward to finding out more!

Oh yeah... I forgot decapitation!

Action, revelations, schemes, betrayl, deception and decapitation!

Chapter 19
Rage

“I am... happy. To see, such... a delightful, gift.”

The small mouth, wrinkled and floppy, opened and closed. The voice from it was a booming one, heard all around the room. It gave out the sound of age and experience, and of wisdom.

“Such a... small, part, of a story, they are. Yet... here, they are, for the end.”

Ekkart lowered himself down to the floor, quietly watching.

“I see... connections. I see... connections, to...”

The creature chained to the throne let out a roar.

Yule shivered, frightened of the beast. In her head, she kept thinking the creature was about to break its chains and lunge at her.

She tried raising her head again. She remembered how the commorrite had attacked her, and struck her with something. She found no memories after that.

She looked around. The small space she was in made her feel like she was a prisoner and rightfully so, since the cage was supposed to hold prisoners. She looked outside, past the metal bars and blue net. The large, dark room was full of other cages as well.

She looked to her left, but wasn’t quite sure what she saw.

She considered it to be a hawk, but a larger one, and a dark one. She couldn’t look at it any further.
She looked on to her right and saw an empty cage.

+Over here, Yule.+

The sound was familiar, and she remembered. It was the corsair, the monster who had saved her and then given her away to be brought to Commorragh.

+Yule, stay calm. There is...+

The creature roared again, and there was a sudden zap. Yule heard a pained shout, as well as the stench of burning skin.

“They are... so uncontrollable... no, material, for slaves. So...”

Yule heard the voice again, but she still had difficulty finding where it was coming from.
She didn’t try to reach out and find Ko again. She backed away to a corner of the cage, and listened.
____________________________________________________________________________________


Father... Grandfather, no!

“And... the story. Yes, so many wish to, hear it.”

“Grandmaster, none of these prisoners are of any value. Only he....”

Me? No, not me! I never wanted to hurt father!

“Value? I know their, value, Ekkart. The value, of the story alone, exceeds them, all. And this, this moment, is valuable. Yet, yet they know... that something, is missing. They know, only pieces of a puzzle. And... none of them, have the, same.”

“...as you say, Grandmaster. But your gifts, I would surely be interested to...”

“The dreamers stay. I know. And this, story, Ekkart... it has so many, pieces, that, even you have not, found. I have all the, corners.”

The puzzle? Grandfather... please... don’t hurt me... I have always been just for you!
____________________________________________________________________________________


“Can you hear anything?” Belindy whispered, hoping to get a hold of who these people were.

“Well, the one sitting in the throne just said the name ‘Ekkart’, and talks about pieces or something...” Vinfer noted, intently looking at the group close to him.

“We can all hear that, what is the other one saying?” Belindy was getting frustrated. She was already hoping her captors would have asked which cage she wanted. She would have picked the one at the end, to hear at the throne. But no, she was at the one next to it, and the people in the cages around her had to be Vinfer and some calm, injured idiot.

She looked back at the cage on the other side again. The man was still sitting. Belindy observed him again. The short, black hair and young face made no impression on her, but the fact that he had been injured so told her that he had been ambushed. Some poor victim of a robber, most likely. She just wondered who had treated him, for there was blood visible on the bandages and they looked relatively new. Was it the captors?

“Grandmaster! He keeps saying grandmaster!” Vinfer suddenly exclaimed.

“That helps me not. Keep listening.”

Belindy examined the cage again, but it was no use. The cage had a lock on its ceiling, and even if Belindy had something to open it with she would have to climb up to it and stay there. She had even secretly hoped she could fit between the bars but that hope had been crushed. These cages had been made for only slim princesses to escape.

“Now... here, the...” the booming voice spoke again, slightly unclear like before. “...Ekkart... must... go.”

Belindy looked at the throne, and saw the being with the metal arms creeping his way towards the exit on her left.

Then she felt something that made her instantly both horrified and intrigued. And she immediately realized what it was.

+Greetings, fellow eladrith. Welcome to the Heart.+
____________________________________________________________________________________

“Come! We have no time to lose, you fool!”

“Yes, Lanlia... I am coming! Hold on a moment!” the corsair said, embarrassed, while he quickly kicked the wrack away and pulled his sword off from the corpse’s shoulder.

The woman with the long hair swiftly dispatched another two with her shuriken pistols, one quick motion at both.  

Hagiahr stopped to stare at the beautiful sight once more.

Lanlia had her dark commorrite armour, a ghostplate. Her hair flowed gracefully along with the motions of her hands. She had delicate blue gloves that caught his stare while she holstered her pistols.

+Your presence here has been known. For I know all.+

“What? Who was that?” Lanlia prepared to draw out the pistols again as she slowly kept walking forward.

+Here is a story for you all to relate upon.+

“This... we are no longer in Commorragh!”

+It begins long ago, so long ago. In a beautiful green planet of fertility and growth.+

“Hagiahr! Come quickly! We must advance!”

+A group of peace loving eladrith had moved in to settle this marvellous place. It was far from everything, and not too large. What they called the planet is of no importance.+

“Should we try and speak to this new presence, Lan... my lady?”

+The people there were later called exodites. But after the Fall, they lived in great fear of the outside world, and they severed ties to the webway.+

“Uhh... no, let’s just keep moving. This place may not be the best for communication.”

+One of the eladrith, still young, grew up in there. He appreciated life as he knew it, but he quickly wanted more.+

The two eldar ran down the tunnel, finding a stairway leading below. There were a few corpses around. The construct ‘Vazek’ was following close behind.

+His psychic powers were immense, and they drew a craftworld to the planet. A seer came down to the village, and asked for an audience.+

“Someone else has been here. Shuriken weaponry has killed them.”

+But the Craftworld brought destruction. Daemons poured forth, using the seer as a beacon. Many in the village died, but the boy subdued the daemons. And he gained a nickname, ‘Banisher of Apocalypse’.+

“I think the way is clear. Just a little further, and we will be there.”
____________________________________________________________________________________

+The Craftworld had fled, scared of the daemons as well as the ‘wild’ psyker. But before they had gone, they opened up an old, secret gate in the planet to bring it back to the webway. The boy easily found it and used it to find the Craftworld. He left his village, which was still torn from the carnage caused.+

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

+The name of the Craftworld is little importance. For it, just like the planet, is long destroyed. The boy found his way to the infinity circle and used his gifts to drain the souls of the spirits stored there. His powers grew.+

The incubus punched the cage once more, his gauntlets finally breaking. But the cage remained without a dent.

+He learned of an old eldar line, a line of great heroes, who returned to the Eye of Terror in a quest to end the daemon threat. They all died, but a few of their offspring remained. These people had special gifts, something that the boy felt like he had as well. He wanted to find them. He never thought of it, but deep down he always knew he just wanted to kill them and steal their strength.+

Huffing, Yrag looked around to the other cages. The one on his left was empty, but the other one had a scourge, of all things, locked inside. It didn’t look like it could be of any use.

+He scoured for more, and more. He found one of these descendants, and after a fierce fight, he lost. But the warlock, the oldest warlock of the craftworld Ulthwé, allowed him to live. And so the boy ran. He ran in the webway. That was when he met two haemonculi.+

Yrag cursed his luck for getting here. He cursed his luck for not being aware enough, so that he had been ambushed. And there, he saw him, walking towards the throne.

+The haemonculi had a prisoner. The prisoner was the boy’s younger brother. The planet had been burned down, but the brother could not remember was it orks or those upstart humans. The boy killed the haemonculi, and found out much, so much, from them. They were eldar, but they were nothing like the people of the craftworlds, their wisdom was much different.+

Teifor, the archon of the Bleeding Spear, walked gracefully past Rhogogo and bowed to the throne. He then lifted his kabal’s namesake in salute.

+Allies were needed. The boy found many willing in the splendorous city of Commorragh. Many he made to promise to wait for his arrival again. He found out more about the line, and he studied his brother.+

“You traitor! We were honourable, you coward! This is how you repay to the shrine?” Yrag shouted, catching Teifor’s attention.

+It was a line of dreamers. They were used as powerful tools for prophesies, but they had all slowly died out, due to a claimed madness running in their veins. There were but five left. The boy and his brother, as well as three corsairs.+
____________________________________________________________________________________

Woryc was quietly looking at Ainla. He was sure that she had been behind it all. But he couldn’t stop hearing the voice.

+Time passed, and there came obstacles. The three were difficult for the boy to find, but once he located one, he killed him, and learned much again. He now knew where the other two were, but he also learned something even more important.+

Woryc lazily tried to see if the small hatch in the ceiling would open the fifth time he tried, to no avail.

+The dreamers were valuable alive. They could enhance their own powers, and see even brighter. But the remaining dreamers would not let the boy have them, even if he was their distant kin. He tracked long for one, and when he finally found her, she took her own life. But the boy found her friend, who revealed that she had smuggled a daughter of the dreamer away, to safety. The friend felt of little importance then, but killing him was one of the biggest mistakes the boy made.+

He was starting to come more intrigued by the story, even if it was obviously told by a lunatic. Woryc’s guess was the haemonculus on the throne.

+The son of the dreamer’s friend became the boy’s most resourceful opponent, driven by vengeance.+
____________________________________________________________________________________

Mozarz shifted, trying to see clearly. She drifted away again, feeling a great urge of psychic power once more. She was getting used to it.

A moment appeared in front of her. It was not like the other ones had been. It was clear and constant. She also felt a strong feeling of hostility. It was a moment of the past, and not of her own.

“What you think you can do, kid? Stop me?”

“Yes.”

“It is not possible. I cannot be stopped. I am only growing stronger!”

“Then I will not stop you. Someone else will. I will just make sure that she will never be in your reach!”

“Fool. Give me the dreamer’s daughter.”

“No!” Jein shouted, and ran to the alley. The other eldar ran after him, but quickly got lost.

“Foolish child. But troublesome.”

Mozarz felt the dream shifting, until it finally shattered. It was then replaced by her own memories. Of a boy who had saved her when her home was on fire, and left her at the barber shop. She had been only a little younger than he was, but she never remembered what he looked like.

She felt the present again, as well as the riddling of her captor. She felt some of his thoughts again, and gradually saw.
____________________________________________________________________________________

+Of course there was not only the boy to stop the older boy. Having lost track of the dreamer’s daughter, he searched for the other one. Unsuccessfully, once again. But the boy gained help. He had an ally from Commorragh. A crime-lord. His henchmen captured the corsair-seer, who was a dreamer, as well as his son, but after a fierce fight, the son disappeared. The seer fell to madness, and became useless to the boy. The crime-lord however, got much too interested in the line of dreamers and carefully fought back at the boy’s attempts to find the son. And an ally was lost.+

+Grandmaster, there are intruders! Your orders?+

+The boy needed more help. And he needed help from something he could control. So he sought after what he could control; daemons. But regular daemons would be useless, and he needed something else. So he gathered eldar. Most of them were not willing, but to the boy, only their traits were of matter. Most of them were also the boy’s kin, but daemons did not dream. His first experiments in a hidden library of a crone world brought him a valuable pet and bodyguard. This being of Khorne was supposed to hunt down dreamers, but it proved much too difficult to control, so the boy had to remain by its side to prevent it from losing its mind.+

+Grandmaster! We have three enemies coming down the hall, they are just about to reach the chamber! We need help!+

+His second experiment seemed more successful. It had an amazing scent for dreamers, and the boy was sure he could command it. But it ran away. The boy followed its progress through the warp, but was displeased. The being of Nurgle soon forgot its task and got lost in a jungle on a planet of lesser beings.+

+Grandmaster! All the other warriors are dead here, I need...+

+His third experiment was the worst of all. Instincts of Tzeentch took over, and the being rose to fight back. It escaped to Commorragh, where it made use of its talented bloodline and former training in arms. But it degraded, and the boy was certain he would destroy it one day.+

+...+

+His fourth experiment had only begun to take progress. There was a result, but it seemed no daemon at all, so the boy looked for different uses.+

The doors to the room were smashed open by the Vazek-engine, and it opened up hails of splinter from its pods at the guarding Acothyst. Lainla jumped in soon after, knocking down another one. Hagiahr ran in but stopped soon to look and wonder at the sight.

+I have foreseen this as well. In the end, none of you are worthy of being a part of my future. The boy shall keep rising now, with the last two dreamers at his control. No-one will stop him.+

Kozerog tried to wave at Lanlia to get her attention, but it wasn’t until he shouted that she turned and came to him.

“Lanlia, open this door. The Phantom is coming soon but we must... wait.” Kozerog studied the face closely, and saw. “You are not Lanlia.”

“Hm. The hair gave it out, corsair?”

“No. Your eyes. But it doesn’t matter. Open this cage, we must fight together now if we are to survive!”

“Look, I do not know who you are or what is going on here, but I came to avenge my father. I will have nothing to do with...”

“Hey!” Hagiahr ran to the cage with Kozerog, and began to cut the blue net. “Mr. Ko! I have heard so much stuff about you! They say you are the greatest warrior out there, and... and... something about loyal to the Phantom. Let me help you out!”

When the blue net fell, Kozerog felt free even inside the cage.

+Corsair. If you still wish to preserve your life, avoid the woman near you. She is not who she claims to be.+

Hagiahr froze for a moment, but then started sawing at the lock on the cage.

+But what is more dangerous is the man by the throne. He must be killed now. The New Phantom wanted our first gathering to be his funeral, but he has not arrived. We are going to need help, and the prisoners around us will do.+

The cage crashed down and the walls fell apart, and Kozerog stormed out. The first plan on his head was to free Yule, who had to be here somewhere. But then he paused and realized there were hostiles about. They were fighters of the coven, and the woman pretending to be Lanlia had just been attacked by one. Ko was happy at least that she would be held off for now, but he was worried of her true identity.

“Hagiahr”, he said to the corsair who seemed eager to hear more orders. “Look for more people in the cages, and try to convince them to fight with us for now. Explain that the people of the coven are trying to kill all of us. If they seem ready to help, get them out.”

The corsair nodded and ran to another cage.

Kozerog searched for a specific cage with his eyes, but they locked at the throne for a moment. The man on the throne was still unmoving, but the other, noble-looking warrior near him was approaching with a spear at hand.
____________________________________________________________________________________

One of the newcomers ran to the cage next to Belindy. The corsair began excitedly talking to the injured man, who had trouble to follow. He kept nodding at the corsair, and soon his cage was being broken.

“Hey! Get me out of here too!” Belindy shouted, hoping for a quick escape.

The corsair was soon finished and the injured man got up under the metal bars that had apparently hit him on the head. Belindy was suspecting if she should rather stay in the cage.

“He-hey!” the corsair shouted, running to Belindy’s cage. “We... what was it... we need you to fight with us for now, the coven is trying to kill us, if you are ready to help you get out!” the corsair let out his quickly rehearsed and much too quickly spoken speech.

“Yes, I will of course help you if you are so kind! Let me out!” Belindy snapped. She noticed Vinfer looking hopeful at the other cage. “And let out that other guy too. He is with me.”
____________________________________________________________________________________

Yule could not believe her eyes when she saw Ko running towards her.

She was about to scream when a figure in dark robes tried to slash him with a large sword at his back, but Ko rolled backwards and snatched it from its hands. In a flurry of motion he killed the figure and came closer to her again.

“I will let you out. Do not worry, it is fine”, he said, cutting the blue net. +I am here for you, Yule. I will get you safely out of here.+

Yule looked for words to thank him while he climbed up the cage to tinker with the lock. She still remembered the man as a cruel person who spoke harshly and without much care, but he was here once again, helping her.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes... great to see you again.”

“Can I ask... where are the other corsairs who you went with?”

“They... they all died.”

“I see. But don’t worry. This place was their destination, and at least you made it.”

“It... was?” Yule looked around again, frightened. There was fighting all around her.
____________________________________________________________________________________

All the prisoners had been set free. The acothysts tried to capture them again, but even with the prisoners unarmed, they failed.

The two incubi looked each other up, and together they disarmed and killed seven of them.

The scourge initially tried to flee from the place, but was blocked by two acothysts. He was injured and almost slain if the ganger hadn’t interfered. She and the scourge managed to take down them both swiftly and gracefully.

The deadly pain engine sew death on the remaining guards, and it began a charge at the throne.

Archon Teifor quickly rolled aside as Vazek slashed with a hooked appendage. He then thrusted his spear. The razor-sharp edge tore in the machine, succumbing it.

The Pain Engine labelled “Vazek” stopped moving, landing quietly at the foot of the throne.

Teifor noted all the captives now in front of him, gathered up in the centre of the room. The group then began to advance towards him, and the throne. It looked like they were all ready to have revenge on their captors. All of them had weapons, picked from the dead guards or given by the intruders.

“Well”, Teifor said, “this will be interesting.” He looked up at the Grandmaster.

+Fight well, archon. Your life is to extend mine. Kill them all.+
____________________________________________________________________________________

“The archon is mine”, Yrag snarled, picking up a second sword from a heap of black robes and blood. The other incubus nodded to him.

“The one on the throne is a psyker, and I don’t think we are even in the Webway right now. Be careful!” Belindy snapped at the two incubi as well as Kozerog who seemed a bit too eager to rush at the enemy. “We need some plan.”

“We kill them. That works”, Lanlia stated and stared intently at the approaching spearman.

“They are outnumbered, that is enough. We just need to trust in each other, so calm yourselves”, Kozerog said, directing his words to the loudest eldar. He had borrowed a shuriken catapult from his helpful corsair-fan, and he was prepared to start firing at the archon any moment. He quickly looked back at Yule to see if she was alright. She kept at the back of the group, and no one seemed interested in forcing her to fight.

Woryc shifted towards Belindy. “I think the Marquis is over there”, he whispered, pointing.

“Yes. You scared of him? We will see to that later, now we have some bigger problems, okay?”

“Okay...” Woryc went back to Vinfer.

“I wonder where they put all our stuff”, the large man tried to start a conversation. Neither him nor Woryc had any weapons at hand. They didn’t feel like fighting.

“Quick, let’s go. We can get to that tunnel unnoticed.”

“But... where will we go? We don’t know anything about this place!”

“I noticed a lot of movement to the tunnel on there to the left. The guards came from there, and one of the haemonculi went that way. It leads somewhere, and I think that is where we came from when they brought us here. I want that shattershard back, and it must be there.”

“Okay, okay”, Vinfer said as Woryc pulled him behind one of the pillars. “But... what if... nevermind.”
____________________________________________________________________________________


Teifor launched at the two incubi, spinning his spear in an attempt to slash at both of their exposed sides.

The injured one, who didn’t have any armour left at all, managed to dodge but the other one allowed it to come and rushed forward, ignoring the cut at his back.

Teifor furiously pulled the spear back and tried to knock him down, but he was forced to drop the spear when the two swords came within reach.

The archon backed away and came to the foot of the throne. The creature full of tattoos let out a slight shriek, but seemed to welcome the archon in a friendly manner.

The Grandmaster smiled. “Ahh, Noldor... you are my, favourite pet. My most, successful, experiment. Go ahead, Teifor. Release him, after all, he is, yours now. And remember, Noldor, your father is still most proud of you, I hope, you know that. And don’t forget, to be kind to your new master, The Bloodied, Spear.”

The archon grinned as he walked up to the throne to pick up a silver key underneath the haemonculus’s thin fingers.

“Stop him!” someone yelled, Teifor wasn’t sure who. The voice was high-pitched.

“And you... Frencsis, Frencsis Sarkanozin. If only, your mother would still be alive. She was, my favourite, daughter, and while she didn’t do the, best job raising you, she made plenty, of valuable research before she went crazy. Luckily you never, had my name. Your father was not much of, a man.”

“Grandmaster? Archon Teifor?” a hoarse voice asked, which made the archon jump and look back.
The two incubi were still held back, careful of approaching the beast. But one of the haemonculi had come to the Throne.

“Your place is not here now. I do not remember your name, but you should go with Ekkart”, Teifor said angrily.

“My name is Tunnfe. And I have been deceived. Who are you, Grandmaster? Why has no one told me of your... experiments? Have I been correcting your mistakes the whole time? And why is that thing here? I had been told that it had been brought here as a prisoner, not as a... pet, of yours. Are you a psyker?”

+Tunnfe. There is little for you now. All my remaining experiments are in one place. It is only the question of waiting. I have seen how this will unfold. Tunnfe...+

The Grandmaster’s mind spoke with hers, and Teifor felt unwanted at the conversation between the two haemonculi. It bothered him, still, for it looked like one of the coven’s few remaining haemonculi could turn against them.

“She will not. She will find out now or later, he will tell her, but she will do nothing before it is too late”, he muttered, inserting the key and releasing the creature called Noldor. The chains turned to dust as the creature jumped at the two incubi.
____________________________________________________________________________________

Belindy had stayed back to see who was going to do what.

The incubus and the silent man who was apparently also an incubus seemed to be most interested from the archon. The three corsairs were carefully eyeing the throne, and so was the scourge.

No one seemed to pay attention to the crazy noble and the brawny haemonculus with an axe near the corner. But the haemonculus seemed to be occupied trying to keep the other steady and stop him from running away.

Then the creature was released, and it flew into a red rage and shouted.

Belindy heard a name, “Noldor”, as well as a warcry. The warcry was of a crude mon-keigh language, which both amused and disturbed the ganger. She suddenly realized that this creature was right now the most dangerous thing in the room as she slowly translated the words into her lips.

“Blood... for...” she whispered, slowly increasing her pace as she ran to help the two incubi, “...the blood god.”
____________________________________________________________________________________

Ainla watched the fight in horror. She knew that no matter what the result would be, it would be bad for her.

Noldor, the insane man she had known well long ago, as well as Archon Teifor, who she had a few memories from, fighting against a group of misfits.

If the Grandmaster and his minions would win, The Marquis would be killed while Noldor would be spared only because he had proved as a useful pet. All the prisoners would forever be locked down somewhere in the Heart, in or out of the webway. The corsairs would get an even worse treatment. And if the corsairs would come with reinforcements, Grandmaster would deceive them and lead them astray with his psychic powers.

If the Grandmaster would lose, his mind could simply destroy the place at death, burying them all. Ainla still thought this as the better option. She knew by now how insane this family line was, and she considered it only helpful for Commorragh as a city and the Eldar as a race if it was destroyed.

Her life seemed meaningless now and she felt angry at some of the decisions she had made.

But she still felt a call of life. She wanted to stay alive. And she had to find out how.
____________________________________________________________________________________

Kozerog fired his shuriken catapult at the beast when the two incubi finally broke off from it.

The creature roared, its tattoos blazing in red. It only got more angrier.

+Hagiahr, I do not think we can beat this opponent.+

The creature smashed in to Yrag, lifting him up with its strong, black hands. It looked around, and stared intently at Kozerog. The corsair could feel the daemon-eldar trying to drill into his mind.

The creature hurled the poor incubus at him, but the throw was poorly aimed and Yrag flew straight on one of the pillars with his head first, and a loud creak came as he landed and dropped down.

+Come at me, daemon. I am not scared of you.+

Kozerog tried to wave at Hagiahr, the bat-winged eldar and the other incubus to attack the throne, but he was not sure did they get his message since he had to roll aside from the charging beast.

He was sure that he wouldn’t want to be in close range with this creature, so he swallowed his pride and ran around, with Noldor furiously leaping at him again and again.

Once the creature almost sank its claw-like hands into Kozerog, but the corsair managed to pull himself around a pillar and the creature ran past only to turn around and come back with a roar.
Kozerog allowed himself one quick glance towards the throne.

He saw a hideous woman, another haemonculus, next to the Grandmaster. The woman turned around and walked past Teifor, who looked after her, confused.

Then Kozerog had to run again.
____________________________________________________________________________________


Tunnfe was arranging things in her mind, and trying to give herself a clear list on what to do first.
Her visions were shattered, her dreams false. The Coven was an organization of a mad exodite, who thought of conquering Commorragh. ‘The Boy’, Grandmaster, who had killed hundreds of thousands, killed his own kin, and formed the Coven of Banished Apocalypse as just another tool. Tunnfe would have accepted all those three sins if it wasn’t for the fact that she had been cheated.

Her first goal was to save the one person who she thought she could save.

Rhogogo was holding the Marquis by the neck and he toyed with the idea of shaking the man to see what happens. When Tunnfe came, both the haemonculus as well as Frencsis went silent.

“Brother… Our coven is not one for us. They lie to us. Ekkart is… Ekkart is Grandmaster’s son. One of the daemon-eldar, the one of Khorne, is Ekkart’s son. They are all a part of a mad idea of domination and ruling Commorragh, and they will all lose their minds completely, if they already haven’t. You must come with me, and we can get away from this place. Brother…”

“Sister… the Coven has not lied to me. I was warned of this day. You can no longer be one if your thoughts are corrupted.”

Tunnfe scrapped the first part of her list that had been for Rhogogo only, and she quickly readied one of her poisoned darts as she slowly went closer to him. “Brother, you do not understand, the Marquis is also related to Grandmaster as well as Ekkart! They are…”

Rhogogo had no time to react as Tunnfe pressed the dart deep in his neck. The brawny haemonculus fell down, unconscious.

She quickly went on to the next part of her list. To complete the mission she had been given.

She slowly lifted up the axe that had been dropped on the floor. The Marquis seemed petrified, which made it easier for her.

“Goodbye, daemon.”

“I never…!” the Marquis suddenly started to scream just before the power axe cut open his neck.

Frencsis’s headless body kneeled down, and then slowly lowered towards the floor like a ragdoll.

Tunnfe quickly produced a vial of acid from her cloak, and made sure that the body would be completely destroyed. The fancy clothes burned away, and the Marquis’s soft skin started making a purple smoke as it vanished. There were bones underneath, but what they looked like from the inside was something Tunnfe would find difficult to describe even to the most perverted torturer in the world.

She sighed, and turned around to face the still continuing fight. “On to the next…”
____________________________________________________________________________________


Teifor was concerned. The Grandmaster had mentioned nothing of the two corsairs and something that was apparently a pain engine that would show up.

Noldor had taken care of one opponent, but that corsair was keeping him busy, and the other, unarmoured incubus was coming at him.

Teifor decided to take his chances and charged, unarmed.

The man went aside, careful of any hidden weapons he thought the archon had, but Teifor caught him and latched his hand on his sword. As expected, neither of them were going to let go easily, and a fierce struggle for the weapon emerged.

Teifor was not badly injured, however, and the archon twisted the blade and slid at the other eldar’s neck.

The incubus fell down, holding his arms around his bleeding neck. His face was stern and unemotional, but he wouldn’t live much longer.

Then something struck Teifor in the back of his head, and he fell down, unconscious.
____________________________________________________________________________________


Hagiahr examined the archon closer, decided that he was out of the game and went on. He seemed a little sad at the dying incubus, for he had fought well, but he thought he had more concerns. He walked up the throne, right next to the frail haemonculus.

+What... I didn’t see this...+

+You are not a nice man, from what that story told me+, Hagiahr spoke with the psychic language his warlock-mother had taught him long ago. He was glad to use it again, for it wasn't possible in Commorragh.

+Noldor... where is Noldor...+

+I think it is time you get out of this world already.+ Hagiahr lifted up his shuriken pistol, and leaned closer.

+...don’t make an old boy exhaust himself.+
____________________________________________________________________________________


Yba felt how his dream was shifting. The massacre was turning, it was blurry now, very unclear. It wasn’t real, he knew it, but it felt real. It was switching to something else that wasn’t real, but felt real.

A man in a black cloak had gathered many around him. He spoke fervently and happily.

“Young friends were we when we came, best of ones we came. Realspace knows our appearance, but the mon-keigh will never know our names. Our ship sets sail once again, for a job well done. The job was what we made it and that is how it stays. Get rest, if soon we shall find a new meaning.”
Then the world rumbled, and Yba felt like he was waking up.

He saw the grate above him, and how it was torn off. His dream was gone, and he tried to remember what happened after the one in the black cloak had spoken. It was something nice.
____________________________________________________________________________________

Vinfer felt the earth shaking before he heard it. The tunnel seemed to be collapsing, and he heard Woryc shout him to run. So he did.

They finally reached the other end.

Large pods with eldar-sized beings inside them were lined up in the walls. The centre of the room was filled with shelves full of varied things, most of them probably poisonous. And he soon noticed the treasured Shattershard, as well.

“Well, this is interesting.” Ekkart had turned around to face the newcomers, his metallic arms reaching out in a very intimidating fashion. “The Grandmaster apparently did let a few of you escape, after all. I have to thank him for this opportunity.”

-------------------
-------------------


Well.
I hope somebody managed to pick up some interesting new info from that.

...and looks like yet another old character makes a return, with us knowing a little more about him. But does he know it himself?

Any new favourite characters so far? Part 2 has brought another bundle, with a few late additions before the ending. And I hope that no one feels sad at the few possible deaths that seem to come (and the one obvious death)

But wait, this isn't the ending! Still one more chapter...

Mngwa, hi!

I'm only up to Ch. 17. May I make some comments? If you were to tell me that I'm just poking my nose into other people's writing because I can't sort out my own, well... you would be right, but I'm hoping that you won't mind anyway.

First, you're at your best when you're writing in images. I think that you should focus more on that, and less on exposition. There's sometimes a lot of it, but if you can work it in using your images that would make it 'pop out' more! For example, some of my favourites:

Quote :

The room was empty. Almost empty.
The only person in the room felt empty.

Quote :

A small reptile was lazily daydreaming in a dark terrarium, rolling out its tongue once in a while, and watching its owner. The large saucer-like eyes intently followed him as he placed on a mask, clasping it tightly in to his face.

Quote :

His white hair was messy, and his chest was bleeding a sickly green stuff.

But then there's this:

Quote :

That is why it was a surprise for the poor drug-dealer Bons to see a large ship of a weird, bright design to simply appear and race to the port so quickly...

That image is imperfect. What's weird about it? How is the design 'bright'? Is it shaped like the hipbone of a forgotten dream, for example, glowing with the greenish light of a senile star, or something? You have the images, take the time to let them all through!

Secondly, do you think up phrases in another language before writing them in English? I'm speculating that you do, and it works a *lot* in your favour. It gives your prose an otherworldly feel, full of little linguistic idiosyncracies. If you have been doing it unconsciously, maybe you might want to do it consciously and use it? It could be an amazing technique.

And last, I know you did a 'who's who' in the Interlude, but I'm still having trouble tracking everyone. I finally decided not to let it bother me and just go with the flow! I don't know if you've ever read the Jerry Cornelius books, but I had the same trouble with them at first, until I realised that it didn't matter. You're supposed to enjoy those books like a fugue in music, and that's kind of what I'm getting from the Doom's Hidden too  (Not that I'm saying that you're Michael Moorcock; that would just be flattery for the sake of flattery, and I wouldn't insult you like that!)

I hope you don't mind my butting in like this. I'm impertinent, I know.

Oh, someone is actually reading this!   

Barking Agatha wrote:

Mngwa, hi!

I'm only up to Ch. 17. May I make some comments? If you were to tell me that I'm just poking my nose into other people's writing because I can't sort out my own, well... you would be right, but I'm hoping that you won't mind anyway.

First, you're at your best when you're writing in images. I think that you should focus more on that, and less on exposition. There's sometimes a lot of it, but if you can work it in using your images that would make it 'pop out' more! For example, some of my favourites:

Quote :

The room was empty. Almost empty.
The only person in the room felt empty.

Quote :

A small reptile was lazily daydreaming in a dark terrarium, rolling out its tongue once in a while, and watching its owner. The large saucer-like eyes intently followed him as he placed on a mask, clasping it tightly in to his face.

Quote :

His white hair was messy, and his chest was bleeding a sickly green stuff.

But then there's this:

Quote :

That is why it was a surprise for the poor drug-dealer Bons to see a large ship of a weird, bright design to simply appear and race to the port so quickly...

That image is imperfect. What's weird about it? How is the design 'bright'? Is it shaped like the hipbone of a forgotten dream, for example, glowing with the greenish light of a senile star, or something? You have the images, take the time to let them all through!

Hehe, I think I sort of left it for granted that the ship had been seen before and therefore didn't need to much explanation ^^
Although... now I am unsure if I ever did give that particular ship a lot of description...

Barking Agatha wrote:

Secondly, do you think up phrases in another language before writing them in English? I'm speculating that you do, and it works a *lot* in your favour. It gives your prose an otherworldly feel, full of little linguistic idiosyncracies. If you have been doing it unconsciously, maybe you might want to do it consciously and use it? It could be an amazing technique.

Actually, no not really. I sort of think of a crazy elf living in another dimension in a city that looks a bit like Commorragh, and the words just come!   
I can speak english well enough (certainly a lot better than almost everyone else I know in real life), but sometimes I can try to dumb it down a bit and see if it sounds mysterious. It feels a bit like how it could look like if a translator translated eldar directly to english.

Barking Agatha wrote:

And last, I know you did a 'who's who' in the Interlude, but I'm still having trouble tracking everyone. I finally decided not to let it bother me and just go with the flow! I don't know if you've ever read the Jerry Cornelius books, but I had the same trouble with them at first, until I realised that it didn't matter. You're supposed to enjoy those books like a fugue in music, and that's kind of what I'm getting from the Doom's Hidden too  (Not that I'm saying that you're Michael Moorcock; that would just be flattery for the sake of flattery, and I wouldn't insult you like that!)

I hope you don't mind my butting in like this. I'm impertinent, I know.

Don't know neither of those two   
And yeah... I forget some characters once in a while. Those lists sometimes help me out a bit (a few key words can make you remember a lot of other stuff, including things I have planned for that character as well as other people)

Mngwa wrote:

Hehe, I think I sort of left it for granted that the ship had been seen before and therefore didn't need to much explanation ^^
Although... now I am unsure if I ever did give that particular ship a lot of description...

Not as such, but it wouldn't matter anyway because Bons is seeing it for the first time, and he is the one who thinks that it looks weird, so it would be nice to let us in on what he thinks is so weird about it, and quickly too, since he hasn't got much time

Mngwa wrote:

Don't know neither of those two

Michael Moorcock is a very famous author, possibly best known for Elric of Melnibone, and if you've never read Elric, boy are you in for a treat! The Cornelius Quartet are four novels written by Moorcock featuring a sort of surrealist english spy and assassin named Jerry Cornelius, who gets up to all sorts of sex and violence to no obvious purpose, kills and beds the same people several times, and sometimes destroys the world. I wouldn't start there...

Chapter 20 is nearing completion...

will feature:
- The fight at the "Heart"-lair of the Banished Apocalypse continuing
- Some sort of conclusion
- A few more dead people
- Old characters who are very confused at what is going on
- Me taking special effort on interesting objects. There's been some items going around, you may get to see familiar things again and find out more about them.

I look forward to finding out more!