Depraved Slaanesh Chaos Lord
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I will be writing this novel as information comes through not he RP so this will be an ever evolving Novel. You are welcome to comment on it and share your thoughts.
The Memories of Stone
Act One: The Evening of Light
Chapter one
Tyranic slowly drew his mount around, the chargers sides heaving in the dawn, steam rising as sweat from the horses armoured flanks. The skeleton warriors were getting bolder attacks were coming with more and more frequency, and in greater numbers. The Great Necromancer must have landed on the coast, that’s the only explanation for the numbers of undead around the moors. He spotted another group of the foul things, there were many of them, but Marta wasn’t worried. His knights would decimate them all.
His arm came up and then down in a swift arc, and he hears the sound of drumming hoofs as his knights barrel down the hillock towards the skeletons. Soon his men are in the thick of it, their swords hacking at all the undead within reach. Holy chants smiting down the remainder. Tyranic feels his body alive with the sounds of the holy incantations, litanies of fury hatred, justice, retribution and redemption spilling from the lips of the holy knights in synchronization, not a syllable out of place or out of time. Soon the chant becomes mental, a throbbing base note on the divine plane that ripples through the ground and shreds the souls from the undead.
The knights disengage from the remainder of the undead and surround them, still chanting and the holy incantation finishes the enemy off. The white clad warriors wheel round searching for new targets.
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Ranun's hooves pound heavily across the lightly wooded hills, The satyrs light brown fur rippling beneath his chain armour, he has a large mace slung across his back and his eyes are glinting from behind his long snouted visor. He feels in tune with nature, the birdsong is clear in the morning light, sweet sounds coming from small thickets of trees and animals can be seen in many places. He looks up and sees the fortress of the Knights of Phobos a large sprawling complex with high walls and many tiered fortifications. Before him the rolling hills stretch out and on top of one of these hills is a group of Knights their white armour glinting in the sunlight and their powerful chargers making short work of the ground beneath as they charge towards a pack of undead. Why the undead are there he knows not, what he does know is that they are there, and he has seen more of their ilk across the moors. Ranun makes a decision, not a hard one to be sure but a decision nonetheless. He takes the large spiked mace from his back, and utters a series of low grunts which build up into a fearsome war cry. The sound of this utterance rips across the ground and the knights look to the armoured figure as it pounds down the hill towards them. Their doubts are assuaged however as the warriors massive mace slams into the first of the undead, shattering it upon impact.
Ranun fights alongside the knights without so much as uttering a word for several minutes, the group of Undead unable to react to the swift knights of Phobos and the powerful Satyr in their mist. After the battle, when the undead lay strewn across the moors, one of the knights rides over to Ranun and hails him:
"Where are you going Satyr? Your assistance was much appreciated in this battle, the undead have grown stronger in these parts."
"I am headed nowhere and everywhere, I have wandered far, but for now, knight, it has been my honor to fight alongside you."
"You fight well, we would consider it an honour to have you eat with us and lodge at our fortress this night. There are other bands of undead around, we would appreciate your aid in defeating them." The knight takes of his helm to reveal a mane of pure white hair,
"My name is Tyranic Marta, I am the captain of this company, and I invite you to stay with us and fight by our side for a time, unless you have other matters to attend to?"
"Thank you Sir Marta, you yourself fight very well also, as do your men. I am called Ranun of Crisela. I have nothing important to attend to, so it would be my honor to lodge with you, and also my honor to help you fight off the bands of undead."
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In a darkened city some 150 leagues southeast of the fortress of Phobos an assassins silent feet drop to the parapet of a curtain wall. The tower he just dismounted from bears nothing of his passage and the light refuses to notice him and he passes unseen in the dark. His cloth shoes absorbed the sound of his fall and his body relaxes after tensing for the impact. He looks around with a low head and hooded eyes, his hair flicking in front of his face. In front of him stand a pair of guards, their backs to him talking away their shift, in the distance his eyes spot the window of the nobleman, Keyal Randostal. The brotherhood wants the man assassinated quickly, before his political views spread too far.
Kozac, for that is the assassins name, slinks up behind the guars and slits their throats simultaneously, and drops them to the ground, he avoids the arterial sprays of gore as it splatters over the stones. He looks to the building of the mark. His guards are vigilant. One standing in front of a closed door, Kozac's common sense tells him it will be locked. Above the door is a darkened room with what appears to be a watchman in the window. Kozac smiles to himself, 'too easy'. He walks calmly up to the guard in front of the door and using his practiced skills throws his voice into a corner of the street. The man sprints over looking for the source of the taunt and as he does so, Kozac takes the keys from his belt and waits. the man comes back after a while of fruitless searching and then turns back to the road. Kozac slips behind him and slits the man's throat with his hand over the man's mouth and gently lays him in a corner, and arranges him so that he appears asleep. Then he opens the door quietly and walks through.
The door leads to an expansive entrance room, more like a corridor than anything else, Kozac moves his way around listening at each of the many doors leading from the hall. It seems that there is some kind of party taking place. Loud sounds come from each of the doors except one, which Kozac opens quietly; inside is a circular stairwell leading well upwards into the building. He slowly ascends to the top floor and listens at the door. Hearing nothing he gently opens the door and spots a guard about halfway down a well lit corridor. Kozac’s wrist comes up and then snaps back. The guard collapses with a razor sharp disc embedded in his throat. No noise exits the man's tortured grimace of a mouth as he slowly dies.
When the man is well dead Kozac takes the disc and cleans it on the man's cloak, then opens the door. It’s the private rooms of the target. He nods to himself and gets the guard from outside and quietly tips him out the window of the empty rooms. The poor man falls 5 stories to the ground outside the walls. Kozac extinguishes the torch in the corridor and then hides himself next to the widow and waits.
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Tyranic watches the Satyr carefully his eyes looking over the brute. But even then that isn’t a good name for the massive warrior. Its mind is as keen as Tyranic's, possibly even more so, and it is in tune with nature in a way that Marta has never seen before. Small animals will chatter around its feet and birds will perch on its armoured shoulder. Without the helm it is even more esoteric. Many believe that the Satyrs died out with the old kingdom, but here is living proof that they endure. Ranun has slight features for a satyr, slight but wiry. And even then they are built up powerfully with layers of muscles. A small beard adorns the Satyrs chin and its eyes are sparkling and merry, regardless of the grim armament atop its broad shoulders. He nods to himself this one is worth having around, if only to swing that massive mace into anything that disagrees with him.
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The knight nods and replaces his helm. “This is to the good, you see the fortress? That is our destination.” The knights lead Ranun across the moors quickly realizing that he can happily keep up with a slow canter, nearing the fortress he is awed by the sight, The gates are made of a pearlescent light that shimmers as he watches it, one of the knights dismounts and grips your upper arm, as the pair of you walk through the light it parts around you, the knight looks at you "If I hadn’t gripped your arm the light of Phobos would have registered you as unholy and would have smitten you with holy fire, because I am touching you I have given you a temporary blessing, you are our guest here, you need but ask to leave if you so wish and one of us will aid you through the lights of Phobos."
"This is truly a beautiful place, Marta...
Can you answer me one question though, skeletons are hardly a mighty adversary, but you spoke of other bands of undead wandering these lands, is there something greater to fear than skeletons that has been raised?"
Marta dismounts and heads towards one of the buildings "walk with me satyr. This fortress is not placed here by chance”, the two of them walk deep into the fortress, passing great doors and facades made of wrought gold and silver. Marta opens a door and Ranun see stairs leading downwards.
At the base of the stairs, some 400 down they come out into a huge chamber, completely circular with a large crystal set in the center of the room, it is about 9 feet high.
Marta stops and tells Ranun to walk forwards, "No holy knight may enter the circle of Phobos without a blessing from the Grand master of the fortress, but you may approach, and do not touch the crystal."
Ranun walks forwards, noticing lances of runes, in massive spiraling patterns crisscrossing the floor, when he gets close to the crystal he looks into it, set into the crystal is a massive skeleton, about 8 feet tall, its withered body still clutching a massive great sword, made of pure obsidian.
Ranun looked around, taken aback by the odd and glorious sight. He wanted to touch the crystal and feel its cold surface, but he heeded the warning of the knight.
"I have traveled and seen the greater part of the civilized world, and never have I seen or heard of such a device.
My mind is filled with many questions now. What is it, and what is its purpose, and how does this relate to the undead?"
The being you see in the center is one of the great undead Ataani lords, known as the sons of Plague, the crystal is a highly rarefied form of mineral that you would know as diamond, however our order knows it as angels tears, as this stone was formed when a thousand angels wept over the body of their fallen champion, that was this warrior, he was resurrected by an ancient entity, known as Plague, but was trapped in the crystal formed by the angels tears, if someone were to touch the crystal it would shatter, and he would be released. And not even the order of Phobos could defeat such a foe. The undead scouring the lands around are attempting to free this evil."
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