Commoragh: Ideas and Narratives - Warhammer 40K Fantasy

Welcome to Librarium Online!

Join our community of 80,000+ members and take part in the number one resource for Warhammer and Warhammer 40K discussion!

Registering gives you full access to take part in discussions, upload pictures, contact other members and search everything!

Register Now!

User Tag List

+ Reply to Thread
Results 1 to 4 of 4
  1. #1
    Member JackalLegion's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2006
    0 Post(s)
    0 Thread(s)

    11 (x1)

    Commoragh: Ideas and Narratives

    Hey everyone. I was perusing through Dark Eldar fluff, laughing at the stupid mistakes and misconceptions on old forums, and I came across a thread about two years old on this site. It talked about what Commoragh looked like, and after writing and reading hundreds of articles, narratives, short stories and such about it, I still don't have a great idea of what it looks like (and I probably never will). But I thought to myself "Hey, if those p**** nice pointy eared ******** can know what their homeworlds look like, why can't we?" So, I decided to dig through some of the old stories I wrote with commoragh in mind, and heres the new revised one I have come up with. Be sure to post your own Ideas, I think we all deserve to know what it looks like.



    The screaming of jets overhead pierced the countless incoherent screams reflecting off the dulled black metal walls surrounding Kesharq. Night had come once more, after what seemed ages of crimson half-light that had perpetually bathed the city, keeping the mandrakes off the streets for the most part. Now with the inhabitants' one protection from these mindless cannibals gone, all out war had descended upon the city once more. Arcing his head back, and looking to the sky, dark-purple anti-matter clouds swirling overhead, Kesharq bathed in the terror that seeped from every crease and crevice in this city. A glorious stench that made him nearly reel with prolonged ecstasy. He had missed the night, and now it had returned to him.

    Creeping down the gentle slope of the alley that enveloped his followers, Kesharq raised his splinter rifle's scope to his eye, allowing the matter-scope to aide his vision in this perpetual darkness. The night had fallen not long earlier, and many of the local strongholds had not the guile to light their corridors. It had not been so easy in so long, and the few sentinels in their path had fallen swiftly and silently to their blades and to their rifles. Now that they neared the inner sanctum of the local kabal, Kesharq could almost scent their bastard leader, his hubris and ignorance hot upon the air. It was he that had cast Kesharq down, and now the master would return for his pupil, and it would not be with the same mockingly false words and attempts at befriendship that the same man had used against him. No, he was a charasmatic one, but words can only take one of their kind so far, and Kesharq's own strengths would see him through.

    Minor movement was reflected on his sight as it acquired a target for an instant, before losing recognition. Brilliant shards of light rained up at his squad as another team of warriors advanced up the alleyway towards them. Leaping to his right, Kesharq allowed his body to seal onto the side of the wall, letting the shadows completely cover him. Raising a small breath in his chest, Kesharq telepathically allowed his one true source of protection to take over, and in an instant, he vanished. The enemy were few in number, and as his followers retreated down the alleyway, drawing them into his trap, he saw they numbered only four. As the leader raised his wrist to his helmet, Kesharq bounded from his hiding place, striking the warrior against his neck, snapping it in the process. Before the syrabites warriors could raise their guns in response, Kesharq was on top of them. He released his grip on his rifle, and allowed his poison soaked blades to erupt from his armor, covering two of the warriors masks with his palms, sending the blades straight through their breathing apparatuses. The last warrior raised his splinter rifle in response, but kesharq lifted his own rifle before him, and impaled the final warrior on its blade before he had even the time to swing. The firearm clattered harmlessly to the ground, and Kesharq grabbed the warriors helmet, inserting his twin blades into the warriors neck, and ripped his entire spinal column from the enemies back. Revelling in the souls of the fallen as they seeped into the air, Kesharq allowed himself a moment to release his guard, retrieving it immediately after the souls were gone. Looking back up the alleyway, he beckoned his followers join him, and they continued at a hurried pace down the streets.

    He knew it would not be long before every street was bathed in artificial green light, and with that thought vibrant against his mind, Kesharq sprinted as fast as his feet would allow down the alley. It was in view now, the palace he had built on the bodies and souls of his fallen enemies. Deep beneath it was the laboratories of his haemonculi, their favoured subjects' screams filling the air around the warrior squad from voice amplification units Kesharq had set up himself. He had heard the screams all before, he had supped his favorite drinks around them, conducting them with his free hand like a beautiful concerto and had viewed his favoured actors and playwrights die beneath the blade listening to the melodious tune. These things had been his, and they had been taken by a snake, his favorite snake, but he would cut its head off all the same.

    As he reached the edge of the courtyard, a pair of incubi passed the break in the walls of polished black, the green beads of their eyes vibrant against the darkness. The fact that he recognized them didn't dismay him in the least. Unholstering a small pistol from his belt, Kesharq took the greatest of care to aim it perfectly, and allowed the one shot in the chamber to release itself silently. The Incubi on the left clutched his abdomen violently, falling to his knees and shifting into countless anatomically impossible positions. Even with the emotionless mask that covered the features of his fellow Incubi, Kesharq felt the purest of fear wrenching through the other chosen's body. A cracking sound filled the open-air hallway surrounding the courtyard as the incubi's body exploded in a shower of gore and poisonous needles. The other Incubi was impaled against the wall behind them, and Kesharq walked from the darkness of the street, a look of pure pleasure on his unmasked features. As he stood before his former guardian, Kesharq felt the greatest of joy at the deaths of his fallen protectors. Removing the mask from the one impaled against the wall, Kesharq looked one last time at the eyes of the remaining defector as death-throes overtook the boy's body. A look of betrayl covered the boy's visage, his lips quivering with a single word. A deep chuckle echoed from Kesharqs lips. He was no longer concerned with killing the traitorous leader. He had killed already all of the remaining instigators that had plotted to overthrow him. He would return in time for the snake, and his death would be glorious.

    As he turned his back on the quivering boy behind him, his smile faded minutely.

    "Why?" The boy rasped. Kesharq knew the eyes of the boy were accusing his back. Turning his head, he looked back at the mere child, a toothy grin erupting across his features.

    "I though you of all people would know why, Treeahtzki," Kesharq said, turning his head away from him once more and walking back towards the desolate hallway. "I thought that I had raised someone with a glimmer of intellignece" Kesharq laughed, walking down the hall. As the squad of warriors sprinted back into the surrounding shadows, another crack could be heard from the courtyard, and the sound of needles implanting themselves into pillars and masonry followed.


    Now, if you didnt catch the details, here's what I touched on that pertains to commoragh.

    - Its run on the basis of deceit and terrorism
    - Its society is a feudalistic gang society, at best
    - No unending loyalties can be drawn to anyone (not even between fathers and their sons)
    - The city is bathed at some times in perpetual darkness, and in others a crimson half-light
    - There is no distinction between day and night, just light and darkness
    - The primary color used on buildings is black
    - Permanent Torture amps riddle the city streets
    - Green floods are used to illuminate especially dark areas in times of perpetual darkness
    - The sounds of screaming jet-enginges on bikes and skyboards envelop the skies.
    - Dark-Matter Clouds are sometimes visible

    I think thats about it, what else do you guys know about that I haven't touched on? I would love to add it to my collection of info.

    Last edited by JackalLegion; October 1st, 2007 at 01:49.

  2. Remove Advertisements

  3. #2
    Resident Mongoose Mongooseo's Avatar
    Join Date
    Feb 2007
    South Jersey
    1 Post(s)
    0 Thread(s)

    44 (x2)

    From time to time, there is a warm rain of liquid, but it is not water, and may in fact be some sort of poison/disease (From Let the Galaxy Burn, Hellbreak).

  4. #3
    Formerly BrotherAzriel Horus Lupercal's Avatar
    Join Date
    Feb 2004
    1 Post(s)
    0 Thread(s)

    138 (x6)

    Or Narcotic.
    ~~ Surrender and serve me in life, or die and slave for me in death~~

  5. #4
    Dark Eldar Zealot Wicky's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2005
    Menai Sydney Australia
    2 Post(s)
    0 Thread(s)

    434 (x8)


    Commoragh exists inside the webway and is a hidden canker in the system. That is to say it can be likened to an embolism in an artery, the walls between the materium (inside the web where the city exists) and the immaterium (the warp) are stretched thin in many places allowing warp energy to constantly leak into the local environment thereby providing this “Green sickly light” that diffuses and pulsates everywhere.
    The web tunnel walls itself are a semi-permeable membrane that is psychically constructed from both the warp and the real world by the Old Ones, so as much as Dark Eldar want to deny the use of psychic abilities they are reliant upon their effects for survival inside their city.
    I believe that the soul leaching effect of Slaanesh is more prevalent where the web walls have thinned and its ironic that the large area needed to build a city should also be the place where the protective walls are the thinnest, giving the least protection from the predations of the warp.
    This results in a constant thirst for souls, as the vampiric effect of the Chaos God is far more prevalent in Commoragh than from elsewhere in the web.
    But the Dark Eldar cannot just relocate at a whim because there is nowhere else large enough, stable enough or free enough from their rival cousins the Eldar. Their haven is hidden and in shadow but subjects them to the “thirst” greatly, a thirst that needs the topping up of souls in order to preserve their own from being eroded away entirely.
    The Eldar have “Soul stones,” the Harlequins have their pact with the Laughing God to ward off Slaanesh but the Dark Eldar merely recognize the fact that their own souls are being lost constantly but stave death off by adding new souls faster than this naturally occurring loss happens. It’s a “better you than me “ society and the parasitic nature of it requires that they constantly raid other cultures in order to survive,
    Another notion is that the area the city occupies is of a fixed nature, land is limited and there is no room for expansion and these further fuels the infighting and bickering over what is available. Every square inch of area is hard won and fought over with gusto, as there is literally nowhere else to go to gain power. It must be taken from those who are next to you and the domination of power and lands is ongoing and cyclic in nature and it is only Vect who has held power constantly from the very beginning as only He understands all the different factions, the politics and needs of those around him that come together to form the diversity that is Commoragh.

    A lot of this is just my opinion and a fictitious description of a fictitious world, but might be just as valid as any other story,
    In a controversy the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the truth, and have begun striving for ourselves.

+ Reply to Thread

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts