Sweet Persuasion (reposted & cont.)

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[Mahk Noir]

A blanket of deathly silence lay over the room. Darkness languildly sprawled over every inch of the chamber, sinking deeply between the grains of each individual stone.
Suddenly, the creaking of rusty hinges echoed through the quiet room; a single shaft of light cut a through the abyss.

"My lady?" A silhouette of a figure appeared in the light of the doorway. "You're here then, now aren't you?"

The echo of his voice quickly faded away, consumed by the shadows. He paused for a moment, and leaned further into the room. "Come now, this is hardly necessary. You're bloody well expected, so it's not as if it'd be a surprise to find you here."

Minutes passed by--the figure let out a heavy sigh. "Well then, seeing as this place is most apparently empty, I suppose I may as well make myself a bit more... comfortable." A wry grin spread across the druchii's narrow face. He fiddled with the buttons of his coat, then slipped it off his body and tossed it casually aside. He paused for a moment. "Shall I go further? After all, there's no one here to notice or care."
Only silence answered him. The Dark Lord began removing his belt.

A dagger suddenly flashed through the air from a darkened corner, pinning the ends of his belt together.

"There will be none of that, Noir. This is the Sanctum Desecrata, not a slaaneshi love shack. Try showing some respect!" The shrouded figure of Lady Aladriel emerged from the abyss.  "I hate you. I hate you so god damn much." She drew back the hood of her black assassin's cloak.  "Really. I've never known such loathing in my entire life." Her lips curled in disgust.

The dark lord took a bow. "I aim to please, Lady Swiftpain. I could also 'aim to please Lady Swiftpain,' if you desire it."

"I'd request you not do that in my presence, my lord and lady," The lean figure of  another druchii appeared behind the lord.

Machiavelli chuckled to himself. "Ah! We're almost gathered then, are we?" He clapped his hands, and the room was instantly illuminated with a soft, purple glow.

A row of skulls lined the walls, each resting within its own little alcove. Faint purple flames shone from the eyes of each, providing ample light for elven eyes.

The third druchii took a sharp intake of breath.  "Since when do we have a place like this?" His voice rose with excitement. "Those are asur skulls, aren't they?"

Machiavelli cleared Noir's throat and strolled into the chamber. "Gentle elves, this would be my private conference room. Decorated with trophies from N--er, my former associates." He clapped once again: a blood-curdling shriek pierced the air, and an elegant, silvery round table appeared in the center of the room along with a trio of silver chairs.

"So then," he turned back towards his companions, his face the portrait of earnestness. "We haven't much time to waste, or much waste to time. We also have very little waist and even less thyme, but that's another story altogether. Now then, do be so kind as to take your seats, and we can begin this little briefing shortly, or perhaps this little short briefly."

[Mahk Noir]

Originally posted by Raulen Grimblade

The skies were cold and clear, yet not a star could be seen. The moon cast an anemic light into the streets, leaving an eerie air that would cast a shiver down the spine of any Chosen. The tower of the Witch King himself stretched to its seemingly limitless peak and illuminated a blasphemous glow of violet and black. At the base of the tower stood the barracks of the most feared soldiers in the world, the personal guard of Malekith, the Black Guard.

The Black Guard are renowned across the world for their boundless cruelty and incomprehensible hatred of all things. They show no mercy and no quarter to neither foe nor ally. They slaughter without question or consideration. The only source of joy to these cold hearted Druchii is the wholesale slaughter of the living. Raulen Grimblade was no exception. An aspiring Master, Raulen was exceptionally cold and cruel, showing no hesitation on the field of battle or the sparring grounds with fellow guards. He murdered without question, slaughtered without hesitation and inflicted despair among the weak without pity. And these were the traits that caught His eye.

~
Raulen sat at his small bed cleansing his massive halberd of the blood of that day’s victims. His stare was icy and hard, unrelenting in even the menial of tasks. His eyes gave off a faint colorless glow. The light flowing in from the window barely illuminated the room. It would have been unnavigable for a man of the empire, but to a Druchii it was as clear as day.

In an instant and without reason his eyes flicked up to behold his window. Nothing was out of the ordinary except one thing. It was open. The Black Guard focused on the curiously ajar window, narrowing his eyes to a slit. A faint breeze flowed across his cheeks and through his hair. It was colder than anything he had ever felt, yet it did not cause any pain or discomfort. It wove through the room and beneath his furniture, it felt as if it were substantial, a living entity even.

“And you are?” Raulen called out to the unknown being, the only thing hinted in his voice was the complete abhorrence he held for everything.

“My, my, my little Druchii, you can see me can you?” A voice called out from nowhere, but everywhere.

“On the contrary,” Raulen spat, “You smell disgusting.”

“Ah, yes… Well it was a long trip.”

“A demon, no doubt. What is it you want?”

“Quite to the point, I see. If you must know it is you I want, or…. Is it you who wants me- them… Us?”  The voice paused as if contemplating the word. “Yes, ‘us’ is the right word for this situation.”

“You are a blabbering idiot and a fool.” Raulen turned away and feigned disinterest.

“Well that won’t do” Two purple flames instantly appeared. The air snaked its way to one point between the two flares. The silhouette of a tall, lean figure could be seen behind the lights. “That won’t do at all.” Raulen felt himself losing consciousness, he tried to resist but his limbs were completely limp, he couldn't even curse at the mysterious being before he drifted off into a deep sleep. To any spectators it seemed as if Raulen was simply lying down to sleep; nothing extraordinary.

Minutes later Raulen awoke in a cold sweat. He swiftly shifted his expression of anger and fear to the countenance of indifference expected of him, with the exception of a slim, barely noticeable grin, “There you are.” He said in a mysterious whisper.

[Mahk Noir]

Originally posted by AlHazim

The third drucchi - Malak - sat anxiously feeling both excitement and fear creep up his spine as he took in his surroundings.  The asur skulls (if they were asur skulls) that illuminated the room appeared to be staring directly into his soul.  Those purple eyes watching his every move.  Mockingly grinning at his careless decision for coming to this meeting.

What am I doing here? wondered Malak as he took a seat on one of the silver chairs. He briefly glanced at the eloquent table and his drucchi companions.  Unfortunately, their expressions showed little care and no signs of confusion.  Frowning to himself, Malak's mind twisted maddeningly with a thousand unanswered questions...the feeling lasted no more than a few seconds before he snapped by into reality, masking his insecurities with an heir of arrogance.

Inhaling, he decided to break the uncomfortable silence.  "This place is quite fascinating."  He stared at his host and continued, "But what exactly are we doing here..."

Gulping, the only sound Malak heard besides the cackling energies of purple magic staring mockingly out of the skulls was the beating of his own heart.  He asked himself again, What am I doing here?

[Mahk Noir]

Originally posted by Cirosmar/Grayseer

Cirosmar Narinhil rode triumphantly through the Black Forest on his stolen Cold One.  He was riding quickly, but not recklessly. Like all druchii, the former black guard was well aware that the Black Forest was where the Autarii tribes were located. Though large, the nauglir easily picked its way through the trees.

Cirosmar was inwardly thanking Khaine for bringing him to the Legion. The druchii had been given a chance to gain the power he had been searching for.

The elf stopped suddenly. What had that sound been? Was it an animal? Or, was it an autarii? Cirosmar laughed to himself for being so foolish. An autarii wouldn't make a noise. He comforted himself with that fact until a thought hit him. He had been right; one of the shades would not make a noise.

"Damn it Narinhil, you're a trained warrior. Even if there are shades shadowing you, you'll be able to fend them off at the very least." Cirosmar said, cursing his temporary cowardice.

At that moment crossbow bolts began showering the elf from every direction. He kicked the nauglir into a gallop. Cirosmar pulled out his repeater crossbow and let off two bolts in the direction of the autarii. The former black guard was rewarded with a cry behind him and an elf hitting the ground. He smiled to himself and turned back around. Cirosmar's cold one lurched suddenly. The elf looked down and saw that there was a crossbow bolt jutting from both of its eyes. He cursed and leapt from the saddle as his mount hit the ground.
 
Turning to see how much of a lead he had on the shades, he came face to face with an autarii. As Cirosmar’s hands touched the hilts of his twin swords, he was struck in the back of the neck.
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
When Cirosmar came to, he was being dragged between two autarii. The former black guard was inwardly cursing Khaine for bringing him to the Legion. The elf looked up and saw the shade ahead of him was carrying his swords.
 
“Where am I being taken, shade?” Cirosmar spat. He received a slap across the face as a result.
 
“You will speak when spoken to, city filth!” the autarii responded.
 
The group walked up to a lavish tent. A shade flanked each side of the opening. The autarii holding Cirosmar’s things walked up to one of the guards and whispered to him. The first autarii nodded and entered the tent. After a few moments the shade reappeared.
 
“The Urhan will see you.” The autarii said.
 
The shades dragged Cirosmar into the tent. The inside was filled with hides and furs. In the center lounged a tattooed elf.
 
“Why are you trespassing in our land? We have no desire for city filth such as yourself.” The Autarii chieftain said.
 
“I was on my way to meet with the Dark Lords of the Legions of Anti-Sanctus Chaotica. I have been asked to join their cause.” Cirosmar responded, struggling to get free of the shades holding him. He was rewarded with a look of pure terror on the old shade’s face. “Ah, you have heard of them, then?”
 
“You two! Let this elf go.” The Urhan ordered the two autarii struggling to restrain Cirosmar.
 
“That is much better” said the former black guard. “Now you will provide me with a guide to the edge of your forest or I will make sure that your people will suffer.”
 
Cirosmar knew that he was taking a gamble when he began ordering the leader of these shades around. This would either land him in the lair of the legion or into an early grave.
 
“V-ve-very w-well. You!” the Urhan said to the shade that was holding his things. “You will return this druchii’s arms to him and then guide him to his destination. Now, be gone.”
 
Cirosmar smiled to himself. Inwardly he thanked Khaine for bringing him to the Legion.

[Mahk Noir]

Machiavelli, who had begun to pace about the room in his enthusiasm, suddenly slid to a stop in front of the younger elf.

The dark lord's shimmering pink eyes shifted towards the druchii who sat so awkwardly in his chair. "I take it then that you aren't the type who reads memos, now are you? Really now." Machi sighed loudly. "You don't even know why we're here, and yet you came anyway?"

Malak cringed. "Yes, my lord," he said meekly.

"Well then, I can't blame a lad for being curious. Now then, here is the reason why I called you here, my Lady," he nodded to Aladriel, "and expendable pup in training," he sneered at Malak. "As you both very well know, I'd imagine, seeing as you are more or less druchii, some more than others, perhaps quite a great deal more than others."

The two listeners gave one another a knowing look. "Get to the point, you sick, daemon-infested elf," Aladriel blurted out.

Both Machi and Malak fained coughing to stifle their laughter, albeit for entirely different reasons. "Most certainly indeed, my lovely little lady. Do forgive my rambling. I hadn't a clue it'd been a month already," the dark lord bowed low to the assassin.

A pair of serrated daggers flew into Aladriel's hands from under her sleeves. "And just what the fu--"

"--In regards to our mission," Mach said, interrupting her. "It is quite simple." He snapped Noir's fingers.

A cloud of mist seeped into the room from beneath the door. Within seconds, the cloud coalesced into the graceful figure of one of the coven sisters. Her deadpan face seemed to brighten as she faced Noir. The change was subtle enough to be noticeable only to druchii eyes. "My lord, how may I be or service?" She said, her voice oddly sincere.

Machiavelli smiled at the vampiress and brought his face within mere centimeters of hers. Her face softened still, again only slightly. "The plans, if you would."

"Aye, my lord!" she whipped out a scroll from beneath her robes and planted it swiftly upon the table. "Is there anything else?" She said, her voice rising with enthusiasm.

"Yes, but that shall have to wait for a week or so. That is all for now." He winked at her. "Dismissed."

The vampiress nodded and disappeared once again.

Chuckling to himself, Machi turned back to his audience. "As you can see," he motioned toward the scroll, "our plan is simple." The words "our plan is simple" in large druchii letters were all that stood on the parchment.

Aladriel shook her head. "oh god..."

"We cross the wilderness, likely encountering light resistance along the way, infiltrate Naggarond, wherein we then make contact with the Cult of Slaanesh that is currently in pseudo-hiding there, as well as the temple, work the two forces towards a finale of a clash with one another at Malekith's citadel itself, thus forcing out his personal guard to quell the riots, and then we seize the defectors from among his black guard whom we have recently recruited, escape, and then come back home!" He said without pausing even once for a breath or a punctuation mark.

"What?" Malak literally jumped out of his chair. "Black guard? We've recruited them? But... how? Why? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I believe you mean, 'what the hell are you talking about' MY LORD!" A deafening snarl pierced through the young druchii's mind. "You dare to question me?"

The elf screamed. "Yes, my lord! My lord! My lord!" he yelled.

Machi smiled. The snarling within Malak's mind halted. He slid back into his chair, silent.

Aladriel cleared her throat. "Black guard, you say?" A hint of amusement tinged her voice. "Well, that sounds fun. Whatever method you used to recruit then, I don't think I want to hear it. The point is you found some defectors, right?"

"Indeed."

"Ones worth you risking your own hide to crawl into that hell hole of a city, orchestrate a massive riot and then whisk them away?"

Machi nodded Noir's head, still smiling.

A grin crept across the dark lady's face. "That sounds, as you often say, LOVELY! Let's do it!"

[Mahk Noir]

Originally posted by Cirosmar/Grayseer


Cirosmar walked out of the Black Forest and into the light. It was a glorious feeling, being out of that blasted wood. The warrior hated the claustrophobic feeling he got in forests. If it were up to him he would always be under an open sky. Sadly, such wishes were not always practical.

The former black guard's Shade guide, who was leading the way, and was keeping a cautious distance from the agitated Druchii. Cirosmar smiled to himself. He felt a measure of satisfaction at the fact that he instilled fear into such a formidable foe.
 
At least the old elf knew that the Urhan of this Autarii’s tribe had been truly frightened by the Dark Lords of Anti-Sanctus Chaotica. The Shade Chief could have ordered Cirosmar dead at any number of occasions. If, for instance, the Shade that was his “guide” had been so ordered, the former black guard could have been killed at any time. If the Autarii suddenly disappeared into the woods, Cirosmar would have been helpless to do anything to halt his impending doom.
 
Luckily it had not come to that and Cirosmar would finally be able to gain the power he had always wanted.
 
“We are here” came the Shade’s voice, snapping Cirosmar out of his pondering.
 
“What are you talking about?” The old druchii demanded. “This is nothing but the side of a mountain!”
 
“No, I swear, this is it! All one must do is speak the correct words and he shall gain entranc-” But the Autarii never got to finish as Cirosmar’s blade slid into his rib cage, piercing his heart.
 
“Ah, so I must speak the words required for entrance? Very well, then I shall wait until another comes along seeking entrance to the sanctum.” And with that he plopped down on the ground and waited.

[Mahk Noir]

OOC: An update. Exam week is over, therefore I can actually get around to doing this.
It's quick and a little dirty, or rather, it's not up to par with what I know I could do if I had the time to do it, but I imagine it's satisfactory. Go ahead and respond, and we shall get this rolling once again.

"Right then, off we go." The Dark Lord said, grinning from ear to ear.

The trio was immediately ushered to the stables of the Sanctum and equipped with the gear that their lord had set aside as necessary for such a mission. Each of the druchii was given heavy robes of ivory white wolf hides, packs equipped with the basic necessities of two weeks' rations, flint, tinder and several dozen flasks worth of blood wine.
Lady Aladriel noticed that Machiavelli had set aside a fourth set of supplies, but said nothing about it for the time being.
The druchii stablehand, a snide little creature with a few missing teeth and a disconcertingly high-pitched voice, showed them to their mounts. At first glance, they seemed to be somewhat normal horses, only slightly larger than the average imperial mount with deathly white skin. The gnarled stablehand explained that these were chaos steeds, however, specially mutated to withstand the most extreme of temperature variations without so much as making a fuss.

"Indeed!" The Dark Lord blurted out. "Cold ones would be far too conspicuous of beasts of burden for such an enterprise as we intend to undergo," Machiavelli said. "These horses, however, look relatively normal to the untrained eye, despite the horrific, torturous process of mutation they underwent over the course of several months to be modified in such a manner as to be useful to us."

Aladriel's lips curled into a contemptuous sneer. "That and you're just too much of an obsessive freak to cover yourself in goo so that your own dragonlet doesn't eat your sorry little pansy ass. Isn't that right?"

Mach cast an indignant glance at the lady. "Unlike you, dearest dark mistress, I am rather unaccustomed to being covered in the bodily fluids of animals. Interpret that as you will. Now then! let us leave this wretched little place of questionable sanitation and have our mounts meet us outdoors."

The Dark Lady crossed her arms and smiled, baring her meticulously filed teeth. "If your use to me weren't enough to outweigh the sheer idiocy of all the shit that you say, Noir, I'd be wearing your skin as a jacket right now."

Malak kept silent, not wishing to earn the wrath of either one of the two druchii.

Within minutes of having left the conference room, the trio emerged from the primary entrance of the Sanctum Desecrata.

OOC: CIROS! We run into you right here. This is your turn to pipe up lest I do it for you. What would you have? AlHazim, Aladriel, Raulen we keep going from here if you are still interested. We have been a bit delayed, but I intend to continue this 'til the bitter end, if you are all willing. What say you?

[Cirosmar]

OOC: my brain no worky good ATM, could u just control my Char for ur next post, noir?

[Raulen Grimblade]

Raulen patrolled around the training grounds where the rank and file troops were being assembled. As far as human standards go these soldiers would be considered extremely skilled, but in Naggaroth, the home of the Druchii these soldiers are the lowest form of military to be seen. A frown had managed to find its way onto his lips. Their movements were clumsy, the way they mulled about in packs was infuriating, but above all their sense of self-importance, found naturally in all Druchii, was sickening.

Many of the warriors were sparring. Most were using their standard issue spears or a sword and shield, but one was different. He was wielding a halberd. The mystery Elf had some skill with the massive weapon, but the thought of a lowly rank and file warrior daring to use the exalted weapon of the Black Guard made Raulens blood boil.

He made his way slowly towards the culprit. Eying him carefully, observing his movements, his attacks, his defense. When he finally approached the warrior he was in the middle of a sparring match with another young Druchii. Raulen, not being the patient type, quickly kicked the young elf in the kidney, sending him to the ground and causing him to black out.

"And who are you who considers himself worthy of wielding such a weapon?" Raulen inquired bitterly. The warrior, although shocked at the events that had just transpired, had the attention to detail to notice the manner in which Raulen was dressed. He was clearly marked as a Black Guard. The Druchii's eyes widened in obvious fear, a bead of sweat could be seen trickling down his temple and over his bony cheek.

"No answer." Raulen stated "I see, it matters not. Prove to me you are worthy of such a weapon." He drew a short dagger and took a loose stance, more fit for mocking than for combat. The warrior lifted the massive weapon and brought it down hard in a slow, lazy arc. Raulen barely needed to move to dodge the oafish attack. "Disappointing." Raulen stated coldly, then like a flash snapped the pole of the halberd in half, showing splinters onto nearby observers.

"You are unworthy," he growled "you are slow. You are clumsy and you have no idea how to wield such a weapon." He removed his own wicked halberd and pointed it menacingly at the terrified Druchii. The point was mere inches away from his eye. He held it there for nearly a minute.

All that could be heard was whisperings from the crowd, bets were being made about if Raulen would kill the whelp or let him live.

Raulens eyes suddenly flicked to his right and with unnatural alacrity hurled the  halberd like an Assassin would a throwing knife. The massive weapon hissed as it sped through the air, finally lodging itself in the wall with an explosion of feathers and blood.

"I see." And with that Raulen retrieved his weapon and walked back to his quarters, leaving only a stunned crowd and the shredded remains of a raven behind.

OOC: Lets keep this thing going.

[Malkaris]

OCC:

I am looking to add Sesra, a dark elf sorceress into this story. May I do so?

[Mahk Noir]

OOC: If Sesra would be a likely member of either the local religious elite in Naggarond or of the Cult of Slaanesh, then that could be doable.

And Ciros, do try anyway. If it's awful, then delete it afterward and I'll swoop in.  :twisted:

[Cirosmar]

OOC: very well, i will try, just don't expect it to be very long, and if it sucks you can just delete it and write something of your own...FYI, i've never been comfortable with controlling sum1 else's char so i shall try not to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cirosmar stood, hearing the galloping of hooves. A moment later he saw a small group of Druchii riding towards him, with an empty horse in tow. The former Black Guard spent a few moments staring at the peculiar steeds, then let his attention go to the riders. The one in the lead drew Cirosmar's attention, for he was staring straight at at him with such intensity it seemed as though the stranger was staring directly into his soul. The insane smile on his face did little to make Cirosmar feel any more at ease.

"Are you the dark lords of this sanctum? A Druchii named Aly'dal Foy told me I could find them here" Cirosmar said to the group when they pulled up in front of him. He noticed him looking at the Shade laying dead behind him, "My guide." he said matter-of-factly.

[Mahk Noir]

"Are you the dark lords of this sanctum? A Druchii named Aly'dal Foy told me I could find them here" Cirosmar said to the group when they pulled up in front of him. He noticed him looking at the Shade laying dead behind him, "My guide." he said matter-of-factly.

Malak's right hand discretely lowered itself towards his glaith that lay wrapped up in his saddlebag. Surely the lord expected this. Why else would he have had an extra mount? Still, I know never to trust strangers. He smiled inwardly. I'll see how this goes. I might just get to claim a prize.

Machiavelli sneered from atop his mount. He turned towards Aladriel, sitting silently on her chaos steed directly to his right.

Aladriel frowned. She shared a knowing glance with Machiavelli. She looked the druchii over from atop her high horse.  "And who is it that asks? You say Aly'dal Foy lead you here, did he? And what did he say you would find? A welcoming committee? A pretty little banner? A feast thrown in your honor?" A curt laugh escaped her lips.

Cirosmar remained silent for a moment, weighing his answer carefully. Cautiously, he rose to his feet and met the lady's gaze. "My lady, I have ridden far in search of the most infamous legions of Anti-Sanctus Chaotica. It would be my honor and privilege to lend my sword to your forces." He glanced at their saddlebags and then turned his gaze toward Machiavelli. "I notice you are heavily burdened. I guess you are on important business. And I see you have an extra mount. If you shall so allow me, let me prove my worth to you as a warrior."

"Malak," Noir's head turned toward the druchii to his left. "Test him."

OOC: Do let me know what you think of my interpretation of your characters.

[Cirosmar]

OOC: well, my answer to Lady A's question would have been simply "I seek Power"...but, i suppose you're response was best, a druchii must do a small amount of brown-nosing to get in a position to seize power, eh? well, anyway, i'll wait for AlHazim to post b4 i respond

[Aladriel]

OOC:  I would like to continue with this story.  I was trying to figure out what to add.  I think I will have to wait for the next turn since I am not that comfortable writing someone else's role.  As soon as Malak has tested Cirosmar, I think I can contribute.  Mack, you have done a great job so far.  I do hope I can continue my char the way you have started her.  It takes me a bit to get "warmed up", especially now with three little boys demanding so much of my time and attention.  

Btw, I liked this line, "I hadn't a clue it'd been a month already".  My first thought was to slap Mack, but I did laugh - internally, of course, so as not to wake a sleeping baby.  Just, be on your guard next month Noir.   :twisted:

February 2012

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