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Hello DakkaDakkites!

Me and some friends are on the virge of starting an escalating WarBands campaign. As a part of it, we all have created a hero and a backstory for him, so we can create rivalries, history, and interesting battle reports. My character is the third son of a Noble Drucii house named Korhil Fellwind, and he is leading an expedition to Kislev for slaves and bounty. If he succeeds, he will have caught the eye of the Witch King himself, if he fails...a fate worse than death.

Anyhoo, I've decided to keep up a series of stories about him, and how he grows through the campaign, this part is what you would call the prologue.

Enjoy, and please critique as harshly as you can, because if you don't I'll never learn

Going Through the Motions, Prologue[u]

Duck left, parry right

Like an over rehearsed dance, Korhil weaved amongst his battle-slaves. Even when he took his time and held back from his all, it still felt lifeless and repetitive

It was, as it seems, a perfect metaphor for the Druchii's life.

Although young by the standards of his incredibly long lived race, in his one hundred fifty years the elf had a precocious grasp of the world around him. He saw a bitter people, ones who lived under the tyranny of long life and repetition, slaves to routine.

Block left, swing right

He envied the humans, envied their ability to fall into a routine, and yet their ability to spring into action.

He envied the dwarves, envied their plenty, they did not need to fall into a routine

He envied his kin, and their land, that they prosper in their decadence and luxury while his brothers toiled lifeless land.

It was in his blood to begrudge people their wellness, for dark elves had so little of their own. What they could not have, they took.

It was time for that to change.

Swing right, parry left.

Time for something new

Feint

Unused to such a maneuver, the chained Empire warriors stumbled at a crucial moment. Korhil dove into a roll between them, swinging the ungainly Halberd as he rolled.

As the lifesblood of the two wounded Greatswords pooled on the ground before him, staining the wood a deep carmine, Korhil smiled.

I will be that change


This is just a little taste of what I was going for, if this is well recieved, I'll write more. If not....back to the drawing board of torment.

Thanks!