Spawn of Chaos
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This fiction is for the new Chaos Lord in my Chaos army. Following is a description of who he is, followed by his gear and just why he has those pieces of equipment. I do enjoy writing fiction, to make my army seem a little more alive, so thanks for reading and let me know what you think!
Alsace the Unfavored: Chaos Lord with Mark of Slaanesh, Glaive of Putrefaction, Charmed Shield, Potion of Strength, Stream of Corruption, Talisman of Preservation, Steed of Slaanesh.
Alsace the Unfavored, Rejected of Slaanesh, the Once-Glorious
Alsace was once a dreaded champion of Slaanesh, perfection in both form and in combat. So glorious was Alsace that people fell to their knees in adoration at his passing. Wealthy, powerful and superbly charismatic, anything that Alsace wanted, anything he wanted to do, was his. Slaanesh was pleased with the debauchery, the excess that Alsace submitted to. New sensations, new feelings unexperienced by the vast majority of mortals were daily experiences to Alsace. All the praise, the worship, the success, however, causes immense pride.
During combat he would marvel at his own maneuvers, smile with pride at his victories and shout his deeds to his followers. Until a fateful day several years ago. In the middle of a heated battle Alsace's army was badly outnumbered, but such was his skill, and the fanatical dedication of his troops, that they were winning anyway. With casual flicks of his wrist he severed the life force of one enemy after another, carving pleasing patterns into their flesh with each stroke of the sword. While the fight raged on around him he marveled at a particularly pleasing shape he had cut into his foe. Every angle was perfect, every line the same length, every mark equidistant from the center. As he stared at his perfect work of art, his world went dark.
When his eyes opened, he was on the ground, staring at the sky. Everywhere around him his subjects bawled and tore at their own garments , seemingly oblivious as they were cut down by the resurgent foe. Jumping to his feet, Alsace grabbed at his sword and swung blindly, but his strikes were not accurate, they were clumsy. Blood poured into his eyes and he couldn't see, but he could hear the victorious cries of his foes. "Save me!" he cried out, afraid for the first time in ages. Devoted followers grabbed him and sped from the field of battle while the rest of his subjects sacrificed themselves to buy their lord time. Once in a safe area, he immediatly ordered his subjects to bring him a mirror. Gazing into the glass, his face twisted into a look of horror as he saw the wide gash caused by the errant spear thrust that completley crossed his face.
In a fit of rage, he lashed out at his subjects with his sword, forgoing the usual grace of his swings and hacking them apart with fury. He cried out to Slaanesh to restore his face, but it was no use. The moment that spear took away Alsace's perfect face, Slaanesh withdrew his favor. He rushed back to his village and ordered his subjects to prepare themselves to be sacrificed so he could regain Slaanesh's favor. But they didn't listen to him; they turned and fled in fear. Dumbstuck, Alsace rushed to his courtesans and ordered them to sacrifice themselves. When they saw him, they gasped in fear and disgust and rushed away from him. For a man who has always had people fall to their knees and obey his every command, this was a cold shock to his pride.
He was broken from his stupor by the clang of metal rushing into the room. His personal bodyguard had arrived. "Round up my subjects, they will be killed for disobeying me!" he ordered. But the guards did not move. "Did you not hear me?! I will kill them all, and then I will kill all of you for hesitating!" The unmistakable sound of metal being drawn from a scabbard echoed throughout the room as the captain of the guard drew his weapon. "The only one dying today is you, monster." The captain said before ordering the guards to kill Alsace. Alsace drew his sword but immediatly found out how much of his "skill" was Slaanesh's favor. His sword was knocked aside, and pathetically, he ran from the room to the barns. The clatter of steel followed him as he ran, but he was still an agile man.
Throwing open the barn door, he almost didn't expect to see the pale, serpentine steed gifted to those favored of Slaanesh, but as the doors opened, the demonic beast lowered it's head to allow Alsace to ride. Rider and mount burst from the barn just as the guards arrived, but the elegant, agile steed easily dodged the blows struck by the soldiers. Leaving his palace behind, he rode for the village just outside the walls of his keep. The villagers recognized the demonic steed and gathered around, heads bowed, eager to be the first to do the bidding of the champion of Slaanesh. As they averted their eyes from his gaze, he rode into their midst. "Grab your weapons; we march to slaughter every last soul in the palace." But they did not move. Slowly, they tilted their heads up, a confused look on their faces as they gazed at their lord. With a roar of anger, Alsace drew his sword and lashed out at the closest person to him. Blood poured onto the ground as the villagers collapsed. He may have lost his exceptional combat prowess, but simple farmers and bakers were still no match for him.
The villagers dispersed and ran from their lord, but the swift steed cut them off and lashed them with its poisoned tongue while Alsace cut down anyone nearby. For as long as the sun was in the sky, and many hours after it had set, the only sounds that could be heard were the screams of the dying villagers and the wrathful cries of their ex-lord. He was not as good a leader of men as he thought he was, he was not as physically attractive as he used to be and he was not as good a swordsman as he thought he was. Where people used to fall to their knees in adoration, only to bask in his glory and jump at his command without thought, now they only look at him with disgust, and worse, pity. All of this blasted his mind beyond the realm of sanity; his pride had fallen too far.
With the favor of Slaaesh withdrawn, the tolls of his past excesses finally began to rot his body. His face did not heal well. Infection cased the gash to spread further. His hair began to fall out and his skin grew pale and gaunt. Fury and hatred replaced his vanity. Whenever someone did not kneel at his presence he lashed out in anger and slew them. When he saw a shrine to Slaanesh, he passed it by instead of offering sacrifice. And yet, a small part of him still wanted desperately to to regain his old patron's favor, to recapture his previous life. Despite his pathetic existence, his withered body, the mark of Slaanesh branded into the back of his left hand when when he chose Alsace to be his champion was still there, though greatly faded. Was this a sign that Slaanesh hadn't given up completley on him? Or was Slaanesh just toying with him? Each swing of his weapon was tinged with a mixture of rage at Slaanesh for abandoning him, and desire to prove his worth so Slaanesh would take him back.
He hated himself for craving the attention of his deity, just as his subjects had craved his attention. The revelation that he was no better then they only caused his rage to peak once more, renewing the cycle of mindless slaughter all over again. In battle, Alsace is mostly a mindless killing machine. He no longer has the mental faculty to lead armies, and he was seen as rejected by the gods, so no man would follow him anyway. The years of madness and constant combat since his fall has honed his skills, though his swings were no longer graceful and majestic, rather they were fierce and brutal. No one knows he fights for a cause, they all believe him simply mad, but not even he knows whether he fights to spurn Slaanesh, or to regain his favor.
Alsace's Gear
The Mark of Slaanesh:
Alsace was young when he first gave into tempations of the body. The regular meals of the palace he grew up in in the lush lands of the Empire began to taste bland, though the starving villagers would consider them a feast fit only for a king. He quickly grew bored with love, and his sexual practices turned.... deviant, and not best repeated in words. The thrill of taking another human's life swiftly grew to one of his favorite activities, and he found new and pelasant ways to snuff out the life of another person. Little did he know he had inadvertantly given his soul to Slaanesh already. One night, he indulged in excess so extravagent, the realm of Chaos bled into reality and she-demons poured into the land of mortals. They slaughtered all those around, cutting down friend and family of Alsace with graceful sweeps of their claws. The chorus of pain and death reverberated through Alsace's ears.... and he smiled. A strangely beautiful, yet terrible Keeper of Secrets stepped from the portal and approached Alsace. With a voice that sounded like delicate chimes upon a summer breeze, the demon spoke. "You have been chosen, young Alsace. All the pleasures you have felt before shall pale in comparison to what can be yours. Give me your hand, and pledge your allegiance to the divine god Slaanesh, and wonders you can't even imagine shall be in the palm of your hand."
Alsace liked the sound of this, and offered his hand to the demon. With a gentle caress, the demon carved the symbol of Slaanesh into Alsace's hand, with pain that felt more wonderful than the touch of any woman he had felt before. Accompanied by the sounds of screaming pain and death from those around him, he stepped into the portal to be whisked away to the northern wastes.
Since his fall from grace, where once the mark caved into his hand glowed like pure, perfect purple crystal, now it seemed only to be an ugly scar, but it was still there. Alsace cares little for his own safety, but he reacts with utter quickness to avoid any damage that might mar that scar on his left hand. He latches onto the fact that the symbol is still there, that there is still hope for things to be as they once were. Only Slaanesh himself knows if the symbol still carved on Alsace's hand is a sign that his gaze is, even a little, still on his once-champion, or if the ugly scar is just there to remind him of what he once was.
The Glaive of Putrefaction:
In the first year after Alsace's fall from favor, he decided to seek out this weapon. In his previous life people would reveal every secret they knew just to get a smile from him, and sometimes these secrets were the locations of ancient weapons, armor, gold, lore or almost anything. One of these stories was of the Glaive of Putrefaction, a weapon which would wither the body of anyone struck, making them frail, rotten and weak. If Alsace was no longer beautiful, then he would make others more disgusting than he, so once more he would be their better.
The Charmed Shield:
The Charmed Shield was a gift from a rival lord Alsace had subdued by the powers of his charm alone. So perfect was Alsace's physical appearance that the rival lord thought Alsace had been blessed by Slaanesh himself, and for that appearance to be marred would be an affront to the chaos god. Therefore he gave Alsace this shield which would magically deflect a deadly blow in the middle of combat. It had worked for Alsace, saving him from errant strikes and even a well placed cannonball once. It only worked one time a battle, though, and required some hours for the magic to rebuild. Fortunatly for Alsace, he was skilled enough that he rarely needed it, especially not more than once per battle. As a fault from his immense pride, when Alsace suffered his life-changing wound, he had left his shield with his servants because he didn't believe the enemy was skilled enough to warrant him carrying it around. Now he carries it with him to every battle. Where once he beleived he was simply too skilled for any foe to ever touch him, now he realizes the shield had actually saved him several times in the past and accepts it as a useful tool.
Potion of Strength:
In his darkest moments, Alsace contemplated ending his own life. If he couldn't live the life of luxury he was used to, then he didn't want to live at all. In his anger, he raided an apothecary, mixed some of the more lethal ingrediants into a bottle, and drank. Little did he know that he had attracted the attention of the fickle god Tzeentch. Tzeentch, the grand schemer was the master manipulator of change, and few people have endured as much change in their life as Alsace. Though he was once the chosen of Slaanesh, many, many lives are affected by Alsace's actions, and as the master manipulator, Tzeentch wasn't about to let such an intricate thread go un-noticed. When Alsace began to drink of the lethal potion, Tzeentch turned his gaze on him for just a moment. Though Alsace drank the poison, the potion had a different effect. It filled him with a berserk rage, power filled hsi muscles and he gripped the well-built wooden stand and tore it apart with his bare hands. Such was his fury, his world blacked out, and when he awoke, the stand had been torn to pieces and he had thrown the glass bottle to the ground, which shattered into a thousand pieces. Obviously, the potion did not have the intended effect.
When Tzeentch had gazed upon him for that brief moment, he had laid a curse upon the bottle of posion Alsace had created. Alsace was far too interesting a person to let die so needlessly. Glancing down upon the ground, he noticed the shards of glass from the bottle were gone. Confused, he looked around and found an unfamiliar lump in his journey pack. Opening it up, there was the bottle, still full of the same liquid. As he stared at it, he felt a strong compulsion to take it and drink it again. he would fight the compulsion, but after a few days it grew too strong and he always took another drink, shattering the glass bottle as he blacked out in a fit of rage, but it always re-appeared in his pack and the compulsion started again. The potion, however, was still pure poison, and each time he drank he wondered if it would kill him instead of granting strength. Though he had no idea Tzeentch was watching, he was no fully involved in one of the master manipulator's strands of fate.
Stream of Corruption:
In his decades of excess, he did a lot of things a normal human body couldn't stand. He ate exotic and unique foods that would ravage a digestive system and destroy a person's innards, and his "unique" sexual practices left him with uncounted diseases that would rot a normal person. But Slaanesh had graced Alsace with his divine protection so he could induldge in these excesses, and any ill from those excesses would not harm him. That was until Slaanesh withdrew his favor. Now Alsace is rife with disease and plagues that had been held in check by Slaanesh's grace, enough for any follower of Nurgle to be jealous. The fact that Alsace has survived these diseases has caused some to whisper that he has gained Nurgle's favor. He has no outward mark of Nurgle, but those same people claim the diseases themselves are his mark, and the plagues his favor. Alsace himself has given it no thought, for never has he even considered honoring the lord of disease, nor has the lord of disease ever attempted to grant him a boon (other than the dieases). Either way, the diseases cause a lot of foul substances to build up inside Alsace, and when it builds to bursting, he can release the plagued goo upon his foes with a stream of corruption he spews from his mouth. A more philosophically minded person may see it as justice, making Alsace show others just how ugly and corrupt he has always been on the inside.
The Talisman of Preservation:
The Talisman of Preservation was found while Alsace was venting his anger on the small village of Hampsrun. Most of the villagers he slew with contemptuous ease, except for one. One marauder, armed with only an axe and shield and a pendant around his neck managed to hold Alsace's frenzied attacks off for almost an hours. He seemed to move unnaturally quickly, bending aside just in time to avoud a thrust, ducking just in time to avoid a slash. What Alsace couldn't see was the magical field of protection the talisman afforded the marauder, the force deflecting Alsace's blows just enough. Eventually, though, the pendant proved not to be enough to protect the marauder, and Alsace's demonic mount wrapped it's tongue around the marauder's sword arm and pulled it away just enough for Alsace's glaive to sink deep into the marauder's chest. Hopping off his steed, he examined the marauder and recognized the tell-tale signs of magic aligned with the pendant, and immediatly realized why this foe had been so hard to hit. Grabbing the pendant, he wrapped the talisman around his left hand to wear as a bracelet.
Side Note: Un-favored, Rejected, Fallen Champion, though all these titles have been used to describe Alsace, there is one thing of special interest to note that few, if any other residents of the northern wastes seem to realize. Though not glorious, though not leading the head of a massive horde, Alsace has accomplished something incredible, something only a handful of champions do. Alsace has gained the favor of all four Chaos gods. His rage and fury has attracted the focus of Khorne, who is impressed by his battle lust. His disease and plague wridden body has attracted the focus of Nurgle, whom some say has granted Alsace protection from their lethality. Tzeentch has clearly taken notice of the fallen champion and one can't help but wonder if Alsace's whole life, his rise and fall, were all specifically engineered by the master manipulator. At the very least, Tzeentch is interested in Alsace's fate. Finally, Slaanesh at one point graced Alsace with his divine favor. Though no longer a chosen son of Slaanesh, the faded mark on his hand leaves the question of whether or not he can once more bask in the god of excess's divine light. If he were to regain Slaanesh's favor, he would have the favor of all four chaos gods, something last accomplished by Archaon himself.
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