The Hunt For Souls (de Story) - Warhammer 40K Fantasy

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  1. #1
    Senior Member Ravensdark's Avatar
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    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.
    ===


    There you go. Have a read and will talk about what to do.

    <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
    Senior Member Ravensdark's Avatar
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    well in an atempt to get some comments on this badboy i thought i would refresh it.

    Any critics welcome, good or bad.
    <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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