From The Shadows - Warhammer 40K Fantasy

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  1. #1
    Senior Member Ravensdark's Avatar
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    Here ya go people. my piece on those loveable, twisted psyco nutbags we like to call dark eldar.

    There more if ya want it.



    From the Shadows

    "Death cannot be escaped, for I have come; your bodies will be dragged to the place of eternal twilight where not even your pathetic emperor will hear your cries of agony and torment. And when your screams no longer give me pleasure your souls will become my feast."
    Words of Berial Khirraq, Dracon of the Kabal of the Shadow, recorded at the Tanlus VII massacre.


    Berial's thin lips twisted into an evil smirk as he felt bone break under his grasp and the life of the human ebb away into the void. He threw the corpse of the guardsman to the floor with contempt. The stubborn fools had put up quite a resistance since they had been driven to their last lines of defence; they seemed to want to sell their lives as dearly as possible. He respected that in some strange way; still if they had even the slightest knowledge of what would become of them if taken alive he would not be surprised they would give their lives in forfeit. Still it did not matter; the Dark Eldar forces were systematically wiping out the last pockets of resistance all across the crude repulsive city that even now was quickly burning away to dust before his eyes. The bulk of the Kabal of the Shadow's forces were already aboard the slave ships awaiting departure back to the twilight city. Only he and the lesser, weaker Kabal`s remained, they seeking what scraps they could take while he hunted for the sport. The battle had gone well, the few spacecraft orbiting the pitiful rock known as Tanlus VII had been reduced to debris by the ships of the Shadow without even a single loss, and the planetary defences were quickly smashed thereafter. The Kabal of the Shadow had begun the assault and taken the weight of the cattle in a few short days while a few of the other competing Kabal`s had arrived later to scavenge what they could. There had been some small conflicts between his brother-kin, but nothing worth his attention as a Dracon, and certainly nothing he would not expect from the rival houses. It was all irrelevant now anyway, the cells were already full and awaiting his leave to return to Commorragh.

    A sudden glint of light snapped Berial out of his thoughts, the dying rays of the sun catching something metallic far off in the distance; he leapt forward instinctively. He could hear the dull thud and the smell of ozone in the air as the laser shot tore into the earth where he had only just stood. In the blink of an eye he had rolled to his feet and aimed his splinter pistol, even at this distance his keen eyes could see the single moment of disbelief written across the sniper vermin's face before a hail of poison shards slammed into his chest, sending the human tumbling to the floor yet another corpse littering the harvesting ground. Berial rose to his full height and glowered down on to his retinue, malice burning deep behind his cold void-like eyes.

    'Fools, check that building for any more cattle,' he shouted furiously 'quickly before I have you skinned and fed to the mandrakes.' Berial was gratified somewhat to see the look of terror cross the battle hardened faces of his bodyguard as they raced off towards the building splinter rifles held ready. Berial knew the shot would not have pierced the shadow field that he could activate in a heart beat but he so hated wasting its precious energy.

    His fury quickly subsided, as he looked back out onto the landscape of carnage before his eyes. The glowing flames somehow warmed his chilled blood even though he was far from them, he could sense every scream of pain and yell of anguish in the air, and they filled his mind like music. Berial breathed in deeply, the stench of death reached his keen senses like a sickly sweet perfume. He felt like he was sitting before a banquet, smelling the gorgeous aroma of his food lain out before him. The hunger yearned within him; a thin smile crossed his lips. He had time.

    His dark eyes closed as he concentrated on the slaughter that lay all about him, focusing on it until it became the sole substance of his universe, everything other dissolving to nothing in a void of screaming souls. He opened his eyes again, their dark glint somehow looking brighter as if the fires of his being had been kindled behind them like tiny suns, yearning for food. Now as he looked out he could see a vast mist forming about the land, a dark tide rising as the souls departing from their bodies filled the air. It engulfed the remains of the city coalescing and taking some vivid form. It flowed brightly to his eyes, filling the empty streets and hab-blocks like an irresistible wave, a swirling miasma of restless spirits slowly drowning everything in their path. He sent out his will to the soul-mist, drawing it to him, it flowed and churned like a snake as a small stream left the mass and crept its way silently up the scorched hill. He reached out to touch the wave of living essence, feeling the wispy tendrils of death caressing his skin gently, weaving about his hand, passing straight through his armour as if it was not there. He opened his lips revealing his white, razor sharp teeth set against a backdrop of endless darkness. The mist entered slowly at first, then began to creep in faster and faster. It tasted invigorating as the spirits slipped down his throat into the dark chasm of his own soul, he could feel them writhing in torment as they became the exquisite food that fuelled him.

    The dull sound of feet on scorched earth reached his ears snapping him out of his trance, he quickly released his grasp, feeling the mist slip away from him to rejoin the collective harvest amid the city; he cursed to the Great Enemy for the interruption. The steps moved closer towards him, soft padding on the grass as it approached. He could tell the owner simply by its misshapen movements, ugly and disjointed as it shambled on ever closer, and he thrice cursed silently as he knew what he would gaze upon as he turned round. Other foot steps soon followed behind the first, far heavier and un-mistakenly harsher than the gentle stride of any of his kin, pounding into the soil like hammers, churning up the ground with every pace. The steps came closer and stopped.

    'Dracon, how goes the harvest, will I have the specimens I requested?' The cold sinister voice could only belong to Rathus Jirra. It rattled in Berial`s head setting his teeth on edge, he turned slowly to face the Haemonculus his eyes burning with infuriation merely at the sound of the torturers voice. A twisted and insane face glared back at him, eyes holding no sanity what so ever within their dank recesses. Behind him stood his bodyguards, four immense Grotesques, half shadows of once powerful warriors, at least twice the weight of a man and of great strength, but with hideous bodies of mutilated flesh and rampant mutation. Berial knew their minds had long been destroyed reduced to burnt out husks, what little left of them now only carrying the motivation to carry out the will of their equally twisted master. They were truly gruesome and would be terrifying to behold to any lesser creature of the universe, it reminded Berial often as it did of how high a master of the excruciating arts Rathus was, they were very impressive specimens, yet still idiotic puppies to an insane master, all who could be easily slaughtered thought Berial with a slack grin on his pale lips.

    'Yes Rathus, you will have the toys you wanted, the cells are already full with some most unwilling subjects,' replied Berial letting a hint of the malus he held for the insane torturer enter his voice. He could see some semblence of a smile spread across the psychotic Eldar's deformed features at his words. Berial knew any threat would not affect the torturer, not merely because of his position within the Kabal but of the complete lack of care all his kind seemed to show to the cosmos.

    'Excellent, you do well Berial, you are becoming most favoured in the eyes of Lord Ghrackus, and he will be truly pleased with the catch you have made.' Berial simply stared back grimly in reply, he did not wish to say anything that the Grand Archon might hear from Rathus, the haemonculus was not only High Agoniser to the Kabal but also the Archons eyes and ears, eyes and ears Berial would gladly tear out.

    Rathus nodded with a twitch and began to shamble away, his hideous bodyguard quickly following him like a pack of mongrel dogs. As they made to leave one turned and gazed at Berial, two eyes full of bloodlust burning into the Dracon. It emitted a low rumbling growl torn from a diseased throat, Berial`s smile simply widened into a malicious grin in reply. He levelled his eyes and let his gaze meet with that of the moronic beasts, he could sense the moment of recognition between them and the feeling of terror slowly percolating in the things decrepit mind. It silenced immediately turning on its heels to catch its master: Berial could hear the madman gibbering to himself as he disappeared over the ridge, the immense shadows of his pets quickly disappearing into the dusk behind him.

    Berial returned his attention to the city, glad to be free of Rathus` ramblings, no matter how short the conversation. He would be glad when the day came he could have Rathus become a subject of one of his own twisted experiments. Berial licked his lips at the thought, one day. He gazed back down the hill; he could see his warriors exiting the building below, a slim nimble figure bounding up the hill ahead of them.

    Juy-yun came running towards Berial, the foremost of his retinue halted a few feet from him then stooped to one knee and bowed her head, allowing her thick black cloak to sweep over her slender shoulders.

    'My Dracon, we have eradicated all the vermin in the building, none are left,' she said quickly, trying to regain her breath.

    'Good Juy-yun, good. There are no longer any cattle here to give us sport, prepare the Ravener and form the warriors, we continue on into the heart of this pathetic excuse for a city. Maybe we can find something worthy to slaughter.' Juy-yun nodded and quickly rose to her feet beginning to bark orders to the warriors.

    Berial took one last look from his high perch with a smile, the city had indeed been reduced to a huge smoking pile of rubble, fires burned everywhere, and the fading light showed the sporadic bursts of weapon fire that lit across the scope of his vision. The reek of carnage wafted ever stronger with each passing minute on the harsh breeze, filling Berial`s lungs. He lifted his helmet and placed it on his head, hearing the locking mechanisms click into place. He stepped down towards the Ravener his footfalls so light as not to even leave a trail in the blackened earth. A sleek black machine awaited him, it lay suspended several feet from the ground at the base of the hill, dipping and rising gently on the air currents like a ship at sea. It produced a low musical hum as its master bounded up onto his chariot in a single leap. The sense of impending slaughter and pain filled his mind as he looked out on the scenes of devastation around him. It was rare moments like these he felt satisfied.

    <span style='color:red'>&quot;Right lads, lets make a tactical advance to the rear of our posistion&quot;
    &quot;Errr do you mean run away?&quot;
    &quot;Thats the one&quot;</span>

    &quot;Oh man, look at that.&quot;
    &quot;Where?&quot;
    &quot;Over there, by that river of boiling souls.&quot;
    &quot;Well I&#39;ll be damned... it&#39;s a Starbucks.&quot;

    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/ravensdark/' target='_blank'>THE SOUL REAVERS</a>
    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/gaeisia/index.htm' target='_blank'>GAESIA</a>

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  3. #2
    LO Zealot Bawdymonkey's Avatar
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    Now this is an excellent story. There is not really anything bad with this. It demands that more be written.
    “Cry ‘Havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war!? - Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene I

  4. #3
    Senior Member Ravensdark's Avatar
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    wow, cheers, i&#39;ll post up more in a bit.

    Oh and 1 - 0 to ENGLAND WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

    45 Minutes left. COME ON


    The Ravener glided almost silently over the rubble-strewn streets, the anti-grav engines producing only the slightest purring beneath its glimmering jet surface. The powerful devices allowing the craft to easily ride over the war torn streets, prowling down the alleys like an angel of pain and death. Berial slumped back onto his raised throne at the rear of the beautifully moulded machine; he could hear the wind whistle around his helm as he travelled at ever increasing speed. He glared down at his warriors who stood at the base of the dais, gaunt in the dying light, their black armour adorned with eye necklaces and skull trophies, the deep jet glinting strangely in the crimson hue of the dying light. He had chosen them all personally from within the Kabal, taking only the strongest of warriors with him. They were all merciless killers in their own meagre ways, just as all Dark Eldar should be. Ruthless, unemotional, distrustful… ideal. A sudden thought entered his mind; he gave out a small laugh as he thought of the words of his own Dracon from many millennia ago.

    ‘Never trust the strongest of your servants, for they will just as soon murder their master and feed on him as kill his enemies.’ The weak fool had been right and had eventually heeded his own advice. Seeing Berial as a threat he had gone to kill him before he was himself assassinated. It was a shame the fool had been so easy to kill, the toxins had ended the old Dracon far too fast and his soul had tasted feeble. Still it had all taught Berial a lesson he was glad to learn in his later life, never kill your enemies too quickly, to watch them suffer is truly great enjoyment.

    He looked back down on his retinue; they all stood perfectly still despite the rapid movement as the Ravener chinked from left to right. Sensing his gaze his first-warrior looked back at him, an easy grin written across her face, Juy-yun was indeed beautiful in that sinister way that Berial found so appealing, her high cheek bones creating amazing definition to her pale white face. Out of all he had ever known she was who he trusted the most. He stopped himself mid-thought… trust; that was something he could never give, no one would ever be given his true trust just as no other Eldar would give his or her trust to anything. Berial could remember vividly when his own son had tried to murder him and take his position, if their had been one moment in his many millennia long existence that had given him even a twinge of what the pitiful humans called `remorse` it had been when he had snapped young Birraq`s neck in his own gauntleted fist. He came out from his thoughts as a voice rang in his ears.

    ‘My Lord, a Mon`kee fortification lays ahead.’

    ‘Prepare all weapons and burn it to the ground, no prisoners, I have no time for their wailing,’ replied Berial his voice a terrible whisper, full of contempt and spite. They had just enough time for this before returning to the ships.

    ‘Yes, my Dracon.’ The Ravener turned gently to the side, gliding effortlessly around to face a ramshackle defence of broken vehicles and human guards cowering behind it.

    ‘Fire,’ spat Berial, he could hear the high pitched whine and feel the immense energy as the forward mounted dark lance prepared to fire, suddenly in a miasma of crackling black energy the cannon erupted, sending a stream of pure void forward faster than light, erupting into the line of burnt out tanks and destroyed girders creating carnage. Massive chunks of debris and flesh erupted into the air, Berial could see with some amusement as one of the cattle was swallowed whole by the shot, leaving nothing but a burnt patch on the ground, the beam faded instantly.

    ‘Charge my warriors, attack, revel in the death of your enemies, and dance in their horror.’ As one the retinue leapt to the ground and charged forward, splinter rifles levelled unleashing hail upon hail of shards into the survivors. More and more human fell as his warriors charged, only a few pitiful sprays of return fire glancing off his warriors armour in return. A few survivors soon fled away in horror. Berial began to step down from his throne while snapping off shots from his pistol at the scurrying vermin, sending a poison tip barb into each back. They convulsed amusingly as they died making the Dracon grateful for the gift of pain.

    One rat with more bravery charged at him yelling in his abominable tongue, the long knife attached to his crude weapon aimed at Berial`s chest, with an amused snigger Berial holstered his pistol and stepped lightly to the side, the Mon`kee flew straight past him, stumbling as he struck thin air when he had sought flesh. Berial drew back his gauntleted right fist. With a twinge of thought, the six-inch blades slid out with a delightful hiss from his fingers. Like the claws of a warp beast glinting in the twilight they drove into the man’s back, the poison injecting instantly although he knew it was not needed; he was in no haste. Berial felt around in the slimy innards of the man’s chest, he could feel his hand grasp around what must have been the cattle’s heart, it gave one last beat before a quick wrench. He drew out his hand the claws retracting at another command of will. The husk fell to the floor motionless as Berial crushed the organ in his grasp, the fleshy pulp sliding off the gauntlet onto its previous body; he laughed maniacally as he drew out his shadowblade and beheaded a human fool as it stared in disbelief at what he had just done to his comrade. He looked about at the hand to hand combat, his retinue slashing through the vermin’s ranks with ease, filling the air with screams of dread and a cacophony of shrieks. The brutish Mon`kee were quite strong but not swift or graceful, they fell quickly under the hail of blows sent by his warriors. The last fell to the ground, its blood mingling with the scorched earth.

    Berial looked about at the carnage breathing in deeply, suddenly something caught his eye. Amidst the massacre and billowing smoke cut a bright red beam of light, emerging behind one of his retinue, followed by a flash of gleaming blue power. The warrior fell to the dust in two, his torso separated from his legs. A figure emerged into view, a tall gaunt human dressed in a long crimson cloak covered in gleaming medals and trimmed with gold piping, a bionic eye glaring from beneath a peaked cap. He strode confidently forward his gleaming power blade slicing through another of Berial’s guard. His warriors attacked; levelling their splinter rifles two sent a hail of shards at the man but just before impact a small flash of blue light flickered around him, the shards dissolving in mid air as they struck what must have been a power field. The man strode forward quickly, hacking and slashing with remarkable speed as the warriors charged, blades held high.

    ‘Halt,’ screamed Berial at his retinue. They stopped immediately and leapt back leaving the human standing alone in the midst of the street, the bodies of five Eldar lying at his feet. Berial took a closer look at the man with an interest. He was tall and well built; his face was devoid of emotion except for a murderous rage chiselled into his stony features. The bionic eye surveyed his work before looking upon Berial, the small red beam it emitted searching over the Dracon`s armour. Berial stepped forward, perhaps there would be some sport after all. The Dracon stood face to face with the Mon`kee his eyes burning behind his face mask. With a flash of blue energy the man made to strike, the powersword screamed through the air. Berial brought his own blade up to meet it, crimson sparks erupting as the two weapons met. Berial jumped back, parrying the vicious blows as the human stepped forward pressing his strength upon the Dracon. Berial was impressed, for a human this man was incredibly skilled. But still far from skilled enough. Berial fended of one last blow before returning the attack. His blade moved almost faster than the eye could see, the man tried to parry but was too slow, and with a quick slash the gleaming blue powersword spun into the air before clattering to the ground a severed hand still clinging to it. The man let out a growl of pain as he stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. Berial reached down and grabbed him around the neck before he hit the ground, hauling him into the air with one hand. He looked amusedly up at the man and let out a cackle.

    ‘This one will give the Haemonculus much fun.’ The remainder of his retinue laughed in response.

    ‘You have no idea what awaits you now filth.’ The man stared back in reply, his one eye burning with pure fury, his teeth gritted against the pain of his wound. For several seconds both man and Eldar stared at each other, a link of hatred keeping their gaze fixed on one another. Then suddenly the man began to laugh, a horrible grating laugh that filled the entire street.

    ‘Praise be to the Emperor,’ spat the man strongly. Berial looked at him in uncertainty, the fool had slipped into madness. A low beep then reached his ears becoming slowly quicker and higher pitched; Berial looked down to the source of the noise. Strapped to the Mon`kee was the power field generator, strange crimson runes flashing on a small screen in time with the beeps. The man continued to laugh, louder and louder until it became a howling insane cackle. Berial returned his gaze to the man&#39;s screaming face, his eyes burning with complete rage. He drew the scum closer to him, till his face touched Berial`s helm. Then with all his strength he cast the fool away. The man flew through the air like a bullet before smashing into the hull of a burnt out tank twenty feet from the Dracon. Berial turned and ran, leaping through his retinue, who began to fall back. He dived behind a mass of tangled girders activating his shadow field as the device gave a final wailing screech.

    The explosion tore down the street sending debris flying everywhere. The searing ball of flame engulfed everything in its path, swallowing all in its red wave. Berial could feel the intense heat surrounding him, first pounding against his shadow field as the main torrent of fire blasted at the swirling energies. Then as the field cut after a second his armour taking the brunt, flames licking across his vision. The short lived screams of his retinue as they were incinerated filled his ears. After a few seconds the firestorm passed and he shakily rose once more to his feet.

    He looked down at his armour and released a yell of anger; his once perfect suit was now blistered and malformed as the plates had run and then set instantly after the explosion. Pure fury coursed through his veins as he began to shout and slash at the air with his bladed gauntlet, the ancient device beyond the damage of any fire. His Shadow blade lay charred and split on the ground, his pistol reduced to ashes. His entire retinue laid dead, the nearly unrecognisable body of Braka lying at his feet. He let out a scream that echoed around the block.

    He continued to release his wrath for several minutes, lacerating the debris around him, rending the fallen steel girders in his gauntlet, and screeching every curse he knew. The fury slowly released him from its grip, until it was controllable. He looked about him at the devastation caused by the explosion. Charred and broken corpses lay everywhere, his retinue’s inferior armour offering little protection from the blast. He could clearly see where the mesh plates had run exposing bare flesh that had boiled in the superheated plasma fusing body and metal in an agonizing death however short lived.

    He looked back over to where the Ravener had been; the vast machine now lay strewn across the street, its carapace twisted and buckled: the body of the pilot lay crushed beneath it; completely still. His mind quickly turned to getting back to the ships, it would be a long trek back to the slavers, maybe too long; unless he could somehow find another band from the Kabal still slaughtering in the city. He grasped his helm and engaged the unlocking mechanism, nothing happened, it too must have been welded together. He tried to grip it in both hands but his armoured glove on his left hand like the rest of his armour was now set almost into a solid block of metal, the fingers fused together. He ripped it off his armoured sleeve and grasped his helm again, the outer metal burned white hot on his exposed flesh giving a slight tingling sensation as he tore it free, the helmet falling to the charred street with a loud clatter. His long white hair drooped behind his back in its pony tail as he looked at the palm of his hand; he focused his will on it for a second the skin healing slowly at first then quicker until it left no scar.

    Suddenly a low mumble reached his ear and a piece of tumbling masonry drew his sight. Across the ravaged street under a toppled wall he could see movement as something trapped in the rubble tried to get out. Leaping over the debris before him he reached down onto a large section of wall and gripping it in his hands pulled it away and flung it to the floor.

    His eyes could not comprehend for a second, it was impossible that she could have survived without a shadow field and he was certain that no mere warrior would hold such a valuable device. But despite that Juy-yun was there, lying barely conscious beneath half a tonne of masonry. Her beautiful pale skin now charred and blackened, blood running form vicious burns across her face. But still alive. She mumbled

    ‘Lord, you live.’ Berial did not reply but began tearing into the rock, sending brick flying away until he could pull out the warrior. He laid her almost caringly out on the street brushing her still smouldering hair away from her face. She was barely alive, her will the only thing stopping her from greeting the Great enemy. Softly placing his hand on her forehead and closing his eyes the Dracon began to concentrate releasing a small portion of his accumulated power into the warrior, her wounds healing somewhat. His eyes shot open as he pulled back his hand in disgust, why was he giving his own essence to save any creature lesser than him. He rose to his feet staring as emptily as he could at Juy-yun as she regained some of her wits and made to stand. Pushing herself up on her elbows her head turned round slowly as if trying to understand where the body found itself. She was terribly weak to the Dracon’s eyes, her body now battered and bruised but a glimpse into her eyes and he saw a glint he had never noticed before, it was a glint of power.

    ‘Get to your feet Juy-yun, we have far to travel, and this city is crawling with vermin.’

    ‘Yes my Lord,’ replied Juy-yun, her voice sounding distant and unsure. With great effort she got to her feet, her entire body quivering as she tried to walk. Berial watched with a strange feeling of pity and compassion, emotions he had not felt in many millennia. Sensing some will within him other than the norm he crushed the feelings he had suddenly felt under a wave of hatred and malice until he could no longer sense the weakness. Juy-yun stumbled over to the Dracon, but just as she reached him her eyes seemed to roll back into her head and she fell unmoving into Berial grasp.

    Berial spat on the corpse of one of his guard as he hefted the unmoving body of Juy-yun up onto his shoulders. What was he doing, he should leave her here, take her soul, tear it from her body if just to make him feel better, but as hard as the Dracon tried he could not drop her. They were the last of the house in the city, only enemies now lay in wait for them, human or Eldar. He spat one last vile curse then made his way out of the street.
    <span style='color:red'>&quot;Right lads, lets make a tactical advance to the rear of our posistion&quot;
    &quot;Errr do you mean run away?&quot;
    &quot;Thats the one&quot;</span>

    &quot;Oh man, look at that.&quot;
    &quot;Where?&quot;
    &quot;Over there, by that river of boiling souls.&quot;
    &quot;Well I&#39;ll be damned... it&#39;s a Starbucks.&quot;

    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/ravensdark/' target='_blank'>THE SOUL REAVERS</a>
    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/gaeisia/index.htm' target='_blank'>GAESIA</a>

  5. #4
    A very violent persona Apotheosis's Avatar
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    Amazing. Brilliantly done. May I say that it is very Dark Eldar??

    One thing, however. I think you were talking about the Ravager, no?? Unless the Ravener is something I am oblibious to. Anyways, excellent. I shall also post up my own Dark Eldar story soon, the Kabal of the Dying Star, and also get off the couch and finish my history of the Dying Star (which I left for months).
    "And whoever wants to be a creator in good and evil, must first be an annihilator and break values. Thus the highest evil belongs to the greatest goodness: but this is--being creative."

    ~ Friedrich Nietzsche ~

  6. #5
    Senior Member Ravensdark's Avatar
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    Ohhhh did i put ravener. Thats the tyranid isn&#39;t it.

    Yeah that is a simple mistake. It should be the Ravager. Oh and here&#39;s the next bit.

    Night had fully enclosed about them the only light now coming form the dull fires of burning hab-blocks and wrecked vehicles that lay strewn across the streets. Berial had travelled over fifteen miles in half a human hour carrying the badly injured Juy-yun but they were at least twice that again away from the landing grounds. The Dracon moved as quickly and silently as he could the only sound in his ears the bubbling fury inside at the indignity of having to trek back to the ships of the Kabal while carrying what should be nothing more than a worthless warrior. He had no way of communicating with the Kabal after his psionic crystal had shattered in the blast and the communication matrix on the Ravener had been reduced to scrap. He would have to move hurriedly to avoid being marooned on this pathetic excuse for a planet; the sudden thought of one of the other Dracon’s claiming he was dead and departing struck his mind, Taltus Bane or Kitana Dreliq, both would benefit from his death or at least his absence. It would be an easy way to get rid of him, something he himself would do in a heartbeat. He moved double quick.

    The sound of footsteps in the night reached his ears; he leapt off the road in an instant moving silently into the deep shadow of a half destroyed building. He laid down Juy-yun who had once again lapsed into unconsciousness in the shadow of the building while pressing his own body up against a partly tumbled down wall. The steps were far too subtle to belong to Mon`kee. They moved with purpose, five pairs of feet all together picking their way across the street. He looked out into the night his eyes piercing through the darkness as if it was day. Five warriors made their way, splinter rifles held in steady hands. Their armour was mainly black like his own but with hues of purple adorning the shoulder and chest plates and armoured gloves. He picked out the Sybarite at the head of the group, no helmet upon her head but far more ornate and intricate armour than the others covering her body as-well as a disintegrator held in her hand. She turned momentarily in Berial’s direction revealing her Kabals heraldry upon her breast. They were of the Black Heart, Berial muttered imperceptibly quiet thanks, so the warriors of that idiot Vect were here; he would enjoy this.

    Resigned to bringing their death he slipped forward from the shadow moving across the rubble towards the warriors that were strung out in a lose line along the ruined road. He moved to the furthest behind first his legs carrying him swiftly over twisted steel and wreckage silently. The Eldar warrior had no hint to his presence as Berial grasped the warrior by the neck with his bare hand and squeezed, the armour plating around the throat buckled and the vertebrae broke instantly under the massive pressure of his grasp, blood pumping over his hand as the main artery burst. The body fell limp and lifeless; Berial&#39;s grasp the only thing holding it up. He snarled as he hefted the body up with both hands and hurled it towards the nearest Eldar, he did not care about alerting them to his existence; he preferred it when the things he killed put up a fight. The body sailed through the air, the Black Heart warrior turning quickly but only to see the body of his compatriot land on top of him and sending his rifle clattering to the floor. He made to get up pushing the body away but Berial was on him, his armoured boot on the warrior’s chest pining him down. A sinister hiss sounded in the warriors’ ears as the Dracon opened his claws and slashed down. The dead Eldar’s helm and skull fell in five pieces to the floor in a pool of crimson as Berial surged on to the next.

    He could see that the remaining warriors were beginning to comprehend they were under attack as the next began to swivel her rifle around in a movement that seemed so inconceivably slow to the Dracon. Before she could pull the trigger Berial had punched straight through her chest-plate, his fist emerging through her back covered in more blood and pulp, he pulled it out dropping the warrior’s body to the floor as he continued on.

    The remaining warrior and Sybarite had fully realised they were being assaulted and began to fire, a hail of shards flew at the Dracon, he leapt forward his one bare hand reaching down to the ground, the palm touched firm earth for a millisecond before pushing his whole body high in the air cart-wheeling him over the shot. The more skilled Sybarite fired her disintegrator at the flying Dracon, but missed as Berial’s body weaved and span with an incredible grace. Berial shifted his feet in front of him as gravity seemed to take back over. The full force of the Dracon landed perfectly on the last warriors head crumpling her to the floor as her legs snapped and she was driven into the earth, her skull cracking open as Berial&#39;s boot crunched through the helmet. The Dracon landed crouched on the corpse, arms spread wide, looking up from the lifeless face beneath him into the eyes of the Sybarite which now shimmered with anger and cold dread. She made to fire a second shot but he reached forward with both hands before she could react; his gauntleted right grasped her by the jaw in a cup of fingers the tips of his claws drawing beads of blood across her face while his bare left ripped the weapon from her grasp, dropped it to the floor and then gripped her arm all in one fluid action.

    The Eldar tried to break free of the iron like grasp, beating down on the Dracon with her free arm but he simply seemed to ignore it. The strength of the Dracon held her in place with ease lifting her slightly up into the air and bringing her face close to his. He let a long grin show on his lips as he looked deeply into her large dark eyes, small trickles of blood dripping over her brow. The two fearful orbs reminded him very much of Juy-yun’s glistening eyes, they were almost identical in-fact, he mused slightly as he thought how strange the universe was, full of its little coincidences. He ever so gently applied pressure to her jaw forcing it open, then moving forward kissed her fiercely his teeth drawing more crimson; his eyes locked with hers allowing her to understand what was to happen, she fought back with redoubled fury but to no avail.

    Slowly Berial began to open the void of his spirit, feeling it at first pulling gently on the Sybarites own soul and then as it opened more dragging her spirit down irresistibly, like a vortex, tearing it from her body. She began to spasm violently in the Dracon&#39;s grip, her flailing fist dropping to her side; her voice trying to scream in utter agony but muffled by the Dracon&#39;s lips. The convulsions stopped suddenly as the last vestiges of life left her.

    Berial lifted the body away from him, the face of the Sybarite locked in a horrifying grimace of pain and terror, her skin turned bone white; he let it drop to the floor. He licked the blood from his lips the sticky liquid tasting pleasant as it slipped down his throat. Her soul was weak but he now felt somewhat better. He knelt down and picked up the disintegrator placing it on his belt. He quickly began picking over the dead Eldar’s body searching for the device. He tore open a small ork-skin pouch that had been strapped to the Sybarites belt; a gleam came into his eyes as he looked on the small green crystal. It shone eerily as he held it up to the moonlight in his gauntlet the light refracting into differing colours in the gem.

    Satisfied with his work he left the road and back to the wall where Juy-yun lay, her eyes now open and shimmering in the darkness. Berial could see the wicked grin across her face as he neared and the maniacal fire in her eyes. She had witnessed the whole thing, staring out from the shadows as Berial had killed and eaten. The Dracon let his own evil smirk pass his lips; the thrill of others seeing his work always pleased him but somehow with the silent Juy-yun watching voyeuristically he now felt utterly gratified. He took the crystal in his hand and placed a bare finger on its smooth surface sending his thoughts into the crystal link.

    His mind suddenly became filled with the random thoughts of the few Eldar raiders left in the city. A picture of the city covered in a loose web of psionic links filled his mind, he was now certain they were the last of the Shadow in the city; he sent his will out farther, stretching beyond the city to where the dropcraft of the Shadow had initially landed. He searched for a link but none now seemed to be left, they had departed as he had expected to rejoin the fleet in orbit. He now pushed his will further and further until it soared over the sky, and then into the void beyond. The image of long black elegant ships entering portals of bright shimmering light filled his mind; they were already entering the warp, he let a curse ring through the ether. He reached out to the nearest ship still in real space. His mind linked with the ships matrix surging through it towards the bridge ripping through the psychic blocks barring any outside communication.

    On the bridge of the Kabal ship Jeng’Meckt the psychic link suddenly burst open on the bridge, the pirate captain Saruk Kathor spinning on his heels as the crystalline view-screen flashed into life on the wall behind him. The sparse bridge crew all turned towards the flickering image, as a horrifying ghostly apparition slowly took form out of the static. At first Saruk wasn’t sure what he was looking at, all he could make out was a dark figure against a back drop of deep blue and flickers of red, two burning eyes gazing down on him; its body a disgusting pall of black skin that looked as if it had melted like wax on a candle. It sent a shiver down his spine. Suddenly a voice came over the communication matrix bellowing in rage and turning the captain’s blood cold.

    ‘Idiotic fools this is Dracon Khirraq, cease your departure now or I will feast on your souls before sending them screaming into the void and the Great Enemy.’ At these words the image snapped into crystal clarity, the psychic projection of the Dark Eldar Dracon glaring down on the crew like a giant daemon from the twenty foot screen. ‘Do not just stand there scum, retrieve me now before your bloated maggot ridden corpses are thrown to the warp beasts and your remains given to the Haemonculus’, the voice boomed once more making all on the deck cringe. Each Eldar knew that such threats were not idle. Saruk dropped to one knee immediately, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the smooth deck of his ship as he spoke.

    ‘My Lord, we were told of your death by Dracon Bane when you did not return from the harvest,’ he said weakly.

    ‘Fool I do not suffer excuses lightly. I cannot and never will depart this pathetic existence until I wish it, not on a cattle world or any other, now prepare to teleport two.’ The Dracon’s words held every nuance of anger and fury he felt in his spirit, making the captain cower, lower to the floor almost like he was hailing the Dracon as a god.

    ‘Yes my lord it will be made so.’ He turned to one of the crew screaming out the command, the menial jumping to his feet and linking into the portal device.
    <span style='color:red'>&quot;Right lads, lets make a tactical advance to the rear of our posistion&quot;
    &quot;Errr do you mean run away?&quot;
    &quot;Thats the one&quot;</span>

    &quot;Oh man, look at that.&quot;
    &quot;Where?&quot;
    &quot;Over there, by that river of boiling souls.&quot;
    &quot;Well I&#39;ll be damned... it&#39;s a Starbucks.&quot;

    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/ravensdark/' target='_blank'>THE SOUL REAVERS</a>
    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/gaeisia/index.htm' target='_blank'>GAESIA</a>

  7. #6
    A very violent persona Apotheosis's Avatar
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    A few corrections:

    First of all, Dark Eldar do not use any psychic devices, powers, or anything pertaining to psychis. They view psykers as nothing more than playthings, and hate psychics overall. Dark Eldar using psionic cystal matrixes is must silly.

    Second: Sybaries do not carry disintergrators. They have pistols and CC weapons, but can have Agonisers, Power Weapons or Poisoned Blades.

    Otherwise, it is very good.
    "And whoever wants to be a creator in good and evil, must first be an annihilator and break values. Thus the highest evil belongs to the greatest goodness: but this is--being creative."

    ~ Friedrich Nietzsche ~

  8. #7
    Senior Member Ravensdark's Avatar
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    cheers for the imput and i&#39;ll change the weapon. But who said de can&#39;t have psykers. I may change the communication, but the idea is that Berial is different. He is a psyker but its a part of himself he constantly tries to hide. All will be revieled later anyway,
    <span style='color:red'>&quot;Right lads, lets make a tactical advance to the rear of our posistion&quot;
    &quot;Errr do you mean run away?&quot;
    &quot;Thats the one&quot;</span>

    &quot;Oh man, look at that.&quot;
    &quot;Where?&quot;
    &quot;Over there, by that river of boiling souls.&quot;
    &quot;Well I&#39;ll be damned... it&#39;s a Starbucks.&quot;

    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/ravensdark/' target='_blank'>THE SOUL REAVERS</a>
    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/gaeisia/index.htm' target='_blank'>GAESIA</a>

  9. #8
    A very violent persona Apotheosis's Avatar
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    Well, they do view all psykers as playthings to torture and enslave. At least 99% of them don&#39;t have psychic powers (although your guy can be in the last 1%), and those that do are quickly killed and/or tortured. What I would do is take out the psychic matrix radio thingy, cuz DE just don&#39;t make psychic communication devices. If a Kabal did that, they would get the crap kicked outta them by every other Kabal, Cult, and Coven. I have no complaint with your guy hiding his psychic talents though; Kabals that openly use them is quite another thing (and silly at that).

    Otherwise superb I must say.
    "And whoever wants to be a creator in good and evil, must first be an annihilator and break values. Thus the highest evil belongs to the greatest goodness: but this is--being creative."

    ~ Friedrich Nietzsche ~

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    Senior Member Ravensdark's Avatar
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    I&#39;ll do just that ID, thanks for the advice.
    <span style='color:red'>&quot;Right lads, lets make a tactical advance to the rear of our posistion&quot;
    &quot;Errr do you mean run away?&quot;
    &quot;Thats the one&quot;</span>

    &quot;Oh man, look at that.&quot;
    &quot;Where?&quot;
    &quot;Over there, by that river of boiling souls.&quot;
    &quot;Well I&#39;ll be damned... it&#39;s a Starbucks.&quot;

    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/ravensdark/' target='_blank'>THE SOUL REAVERS</a>
    <a href='http://www.freewebs.com/gaeisia/index.htm' target='_blank'>GAESIA</a>

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    hay this is cool i have to say that you are a an elite in the darkness (sorry is a de play thing in bradford)


    the pys thing is belive abull becus off the way the feedd on souls so i would say that the pys thing gose with all lords
    &lt;img src=&quot;http://bunnysnoog.cyborgcow.net/henry22.gif&quot;
    align=left&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://bunnysnoog.cyborgcow.net/index.html&quot;&gt;
    I adopted a cute lil&#39; ninja fetus
    from Fetusmart&#33; Hooray fetus&#33; &lt;/a&gt;

    hahahahahahaha i have a ....ermmm thing in a jar .... help

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