The roar of perverted laughter echoed about the waystones as Erling enjoyed his sport. Andariyel fought for his life as the befuddled Sathari continued to attack him. In her mind, he was the true enemy. The one who held the portal open. He had to die. Focussed entirely on his duel, Andariyel was unable to join the fight as two more waves of daemonettes burst forth from the rift in reality to feast on their destruction. Caranordor fought with the desperation of a man facing his doom; the Commander’s heroic efforts cutting down these hideously beautiful daemons with graceful swings of his halberd. But there were too many. As the daemonettes kept coming, they began to overwhelm.
Vexra could see the danger they were in. The corruption had thus far hampered any attempts at magic, but she had to try something. As the daemonettes stalked forward, closing in on the Druchii, Vexra uttered a word, and was successful in dispelling the confusion placed upon Sathari. As the warrior shook her head, gathering her thoughts, Erling roared in anger to see his fun spoiled so. He lashed forth with magic, bringing her to her knees in the name of the Dark Prince, before calling a superior creature through the portal. Long of limb with a hideous beauty, the daemonette ran its hands down its curves and gazed lustily at the prey before it with black eyes, picturing the sweet agonies it would inflict upon its victims. “Vexra..!” roared the Commander as the horror stalked forward toward them.
The sorceress was fearful of failure. Fortune favoured her, as she was able to cast a protective barrier, just as the daemonette charged forth with wild abandon. Slamming into the magical shield, the foe was stunned, unable to break through. Finally Sathari turned her sword to the enemy, and angrily charged forward hacking at the dazed daemonette until it was little more than a heap of ichor and splintered bone.
“We can torture her later. For now, close that damned portal”, Ithilsyn remarked to Gretka and Zyli who were eager to caress Lahmia with their blades. The search party had made their way down the cliff to the injured cultist, who raved as she writhed about on the ground, repeating her chant feverishly in a desperate bid to keep the portal open. Sylleth stepped forth, a look of consideration on her face, “There is an easier way, mistress.”
Ithilsyn regarded her sternly. She was in no mood for trickery, and under the circumstances did not trust Sylleth who to a degree seemed to be in her element with this corruption flying about. With icy menace she uttered, “Do not disappoint me. I am not one to be trifled with.”
Sylleth nodded, and leaned towards Lahmia, taking her face in her hands before giving her a long kiss. Lahmia’s wailing ceased as she answered the embrace, the rite of opening collapsing. Feeling the spell undone, Sylleth pulled away, crying out in pain, then to their great concern, Lahmia began once more to utter her chanting. “Vithari. Bind her and stuff something in her mouth before I cut out her tongue” hissed Ithilsyn. The guard pulled a pair of shackles from her belt and bound the cultist, before stuffing a shred of cloth in her mouth to keep her quiet. “I suggest we flaunt our captive to the Commander. Let her walk on that broken leg. She will probably enjoy the sensation” the seeress suggested cruelly.
The group at the stones noticed a change in the air around them, feeling as if they had awoken for the first time in years. Realising that the aura was quickly dissipating, Caranordor smiled grimly to himself. The scouting party must have been successful. He pointed at Erling as he snarled, “Kill him!”
The remaining Druchii closed in on the Chaos sorcerer who cursed them as he felt his power wane. The bind to his cultist severed, he was no more able to draw on the fell powers through the other side of his rift. It was all he could do to deflect the attacks by Caranordor and Andariyel with his axe, as they focussed their fury upon him. As Sathari’s sword came down from the side, Erling raised his left arm. The next moment, his twitching hand fell to the ground, cleaved in twain as he released a howl of mixed pain and pleasure. Laughing manically, warning the Druchii that they were already too late, he leapt into the portal.
The scouting party was traversing the field towards the waystones. Movement could be seen ahead, and then the rest of the Regiment appeared to cease battle, recovering their breath and strength. Ithilsyn felt magical disruption moments before the shadowy sorcerer Amarthandir appeared ahead. She frowned to herself as they made their way to Caranordor with their prize. As Vithari grabbed the cultist by her hair and forced her to her knees before the Commander, the conversation could be heard, “Commander, the energies were too strong for me to come before. But I sense that you have dealt with their leader. I come bearing information.”
“Speak quickly,” growled Caranordor, in no mood for trickery or nonsense, “Before we disembowel you.”
Ignoring the threat, Amarthandir replied “A ritual must be performed... It should be inscribed upon the artefact that was in the possession of the thalken general.”
Recalling the golden statuette, Caranordor turned to Sylleth asking, “That statue, Sylleth, can you interpret what it says?” The sorceress reached into her bag to take out the icon, whilst Vithari stood guard over the cultist, her blade at Lahmia’s throat, even now the prisoner mumbling her chanting behind the rag in her mouth. Caranordor ordered that the severed hand be collected, which Sathari recovered and brought to him.
“..ut myrrh upon ..our head, anoint the golden k..ng with...” Sylleth ran a finger over the words on the statue, doing what she could to make sense of the inscription. Where it had been worn with antiquity letters, and even who words appeared to be missing. It was in the mad ramblings of the cultist that sense could be found.
“Put myrrh upon your head, anoint the golden king with blood. A circle form, around the door, and say ‘Blessed be the Prince’. Surrender the rune of bindings to the flame.” They all turned to Vithari, who having been driven to great annoyance by the cultist had noticed the words repeated in her chants, and how they appeared to fit in with the riddle of the statue.
“We have the pieces now, I believed.” Caranordor uttered.
As the Druchii discussed a way forward, a low grumbling sound began to echo from the portal behind them. “I say toss the statue into the portal,” suggested Sathari. “And give it back to Chaos? To use again?” chided Ithilsyn. Amarthandir pointed at Sathari, remarking, “What if it does not work? Will you go after it?”
Noticing the disruption at the portal, Lahmia turned her head to gaze upon it. Closing her eyes, she began to hum weakly before the ground around her became soaked with her blood, her skin paling. “We do not have much time. We see now who is willing to do what must be done...” warned Amarthandir, calling the Druchii to gather for a rite. “We need a sacrifice. Yes, the cultist will do. Form the circle!”
Relations already strained to say the least, Ithilsyn would not be drawn in to a ritual of Slaanesh. It would simply be another accusation that could be used against her. She lowered her staff to the ground, silent rage held as she urged Hekarti and Atharti to guide and protect her kin. “Blackguards, form a phalanx. We shall be prepared should anything come through.”
What were they doing? This was madness. Ithilsyn had seen enough from her time in Ghrond to know enough about the risks being taken here. Amarthandir seemed to be in his element, and she could not help but think that he was about to betray them all. The male sorcerer placed the golden statue on the ground before him as he began, his voice crying out, “I anoint thee with blood, King” his knife opening Lahmia’s throat and smearing her blood across the golden icon.
Feeling a dangerous shift in energies, Ithilsyn lowered her head, whispering an incantation of her own. “Blessed be the Prince!” called Amarthandir, Sylleth laughing in ecstasy. The sorcerer pulled a ring from Erling’s severed hand, and with a wave summoned a small flame, tossing the ring into it. And then in fell tongue he began, “An’kalathras! Urkan’therindesh! Al’kalon! Slaanesh!”
Ithilsyn reeled in horror as he uttered the words in daemonic speech. The tongue of pure Chaos. Drawing all her power to her, her own chanting grew more urgent, bidding that a ward hold around them, willing that none of them be touched by taint. Leaning on her staff, it was all she could do to stand.
The sorcerous fire roared, yet the ring within appeared untouched. Instead of closing the portal, it appeared to grow wider, the rumbling growing louder. The severed hand appeared to spring to life, flailing around as a rune tattooed upon it started to glow. What was Amarthandir doing? “The hand! Quick! Throw it into the flame!” he cried, his body shaking as he tried to contain the powers at play. Held by terror, none seemed to obey his command, until the portal began to crackle with words of power in the Dark Tongue heard within, “Slaanesh. Utherizond. Ad’lakar”. Vexra pulled herself to her senses, and grabbing the severed hand, threw it quickly into the flames. As the fire consumed the hand whole, the ground begun to shake. The voices from within the portal hissed, as a great bolt of thunder struck the waystone, and in a moment, all fell silent. Amarthandir fell to his knees, exhausted, with a look of horror on his face. “It is done”, he uttered.
Andariyel was strongly considering joining a soldier of fortune detachment after this heretical behaviour. All seemed to be numb and shocked. “Seeress?” Caranordor uttered, looking behind him to Ithilsyn. Her chanting slowed, her face pale with effort, slowly she opened her eyes. She stepped forward to the central waystone, where moments before a glittering tear to the Chaos Realm was. She reached out a hand, touching the monolith, and lowered her head as she attempted to sense any taint still remaining. She shivered as a hint of musk still lingered, yet there was now clarity here where none was before. “They are ever waiting...” she mused with a tired voice, the efforts of her magic having taken a toll on her. “The way is closed. For now.”
“Then it is a victory...” replied Amarthandir, the seeress regarding him with a suspicious glance.
Across the field towards them, Sildra came running, breathing heavily. “My apologies, I was beset upon by a horde of daemonettes on my way here, I have however divined the...” she stopped speaking as she spotted Amarthandir’s presence, and frowned.
“Ah Sildra!” he greeted, “We have just defeated the invading forces, the taint of Chaos has been banished!
Sildra raised her staff, “What is he doing still breathing?”
Caranordor was questioning Ithilsyn about the purpose of the forces here. Would the thalken use such powers to aid their efforts? It was highly doubtful, seemingly treachery was afoot. “We shall get to the bottom of this” he swore.
But first, they would be rewarded with the spoils of war. Boisterous and triumphant voices filled the air as spirits were raised high by the victory. The time for celebration had come, and there were many spoils to be had. The victorious Druchii made their way to a nearby tent, which, judging by its contents once housed High Elf officer cadre. As the warriors rummaged through the items, they uncovered such treasure as enamelled bronze flasks, filled with the finest creations of renowned thalken vintners. “Take whatever you can carry,” Caranordor urged, in generous mood.
Drained and weary, Ithilsyn glanced at Amarthandir as she gave her reply to the Commander, “I do not share wine with the worshippers of Chaos” before stepping outside to take in some air and be away from the din as the Druchii raided the tent for goods. After a while, all were called within as Caranordor gave his victory speech, “Regiment! The invasion proceeds apace. We have taken much of this land already! And we will take more before, much more! We have also foiled the thalken plot today!” the Druchii cheered as he continued, “I believe the Witch King shall be satisfied with our progress.”
The Commander raised his goblet and took a long drink to their victory, urging his Regiment to join the toast. Ithilsyn took her own flask, joining the toast, careful not to rouse their ire by refusing, despite her reservations of today’s ritual. She could not help but notice Amarthandir joining the toast, angling his cup towards her with a deliberate glance of his sorcerous eyes, blind to the physical world. She felt his cunning, and something else... “Seize her!” roared Caranordor.
Vithari and Sathari moved in swiftly, grabbing Ithilsyn by the arms, Sathari’s sword resting against her throat as Caranordor slowly stepped forward, toying with his wine cup. “High Seeress” he mused with thinly veiled contempt, as she tilted her head up, the blade pressing against her slender neck. Despite this turn of events, she mastered her fear, ensuring that her face remained calm and dignified, noticing Amarthandir looking on, unfazed. Sildra furrowed her eyebrows, glancing at Ithilsyn, trying to read for a signal as her fingers tightened around the shaft of her staff. The seeress’ second, and most trusted among the Coven, she would blast the Commander’s head clean from his shoulders if the word was given. The seeress met her glance, then looked back to Caranordor, with the lightest shaking of her head.
“You have acted against the Witch King’s order is attempting to usurp power. ‘Division and conflicting goals give room to weakness. Strength lies in a common aim, combined strategy, and relentless discipline.’ Remember those words?” he snarled, mockingly.
“I stand by them still” she replied, adding carefully, “Commander”, her voice cold with anger.
“You have tried to remove a Commander appointed in the Iron Writ. A court of your peers will be assembled. You will be tried immediately. Take her away!”
If you wish to join us or learn more about us check this topic:
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Previous Chapters:
Chapter I - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=23964
Chapter II - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=24190
Chapter III - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=24669
Chapter IV - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=24808
Chapter V - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=24875
Chapter VI - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=24880
Chapter VII - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=24898
Chapter VIII - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=24937
Chapter IX - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=24976
Chapter X - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=24979
Chapter XI - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=25000
Chapter XII - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=25033
Chapter XIII - viewtopic.php?f=55&t=25053
