HomeDark Eldar WikiDark Eldar ResourcesNull CityFAQUsergroupsRegisterLog in

Share | 
 

 I never drink...

Go down 
AuthorMessage
Creeping Darkness
Wych
avatar

Posts : 548
Join date : 2012-11-21

PostSubject: I never drink...   Mon Jul 13 2015, 07:42

"Arrange the slaves!"

   Marak gave hurried directions to the Sybarite, Volanthe. His Archon's personal Raider was cruising towards him.

   As she rushed to do his bidding, the Dracon Marak sniffed deeply, breathing in the stench of battle, and the fear of the conquered cattle. He watched as eight of the newly caught humans were wrangled into parallel lines, their pathetic quaking forms forming an avenue of honour.

   A Kabalite Warrior held each by a thorned chain around their necks, and forcibly abased them with a barbed foot in each back. Fresh from the shock of combat, their minds still reeling from loss, the monkeigh obeyed the brutal instructions.

   The raid had indeed gone well. Though the danger was now over, waves of pain, suffering and exhilaration still suffused the verdant green plains. Marak delighted in the flow of sensation, drinking deeply as he reflected on the victorious vista. His victory.

   The Raider was close enough that Marak could see the grass underneath its thrusters flatten in its wake. Soon his Archon would be here. She would be pleased, Marak had no doubt. Maybe she would reward him like she had in times past...

   Marak gritted his teeth and supressed the thought. Those times were long gone, and mere longing would not bring them back. He looked around, reviewing the carnage and plunder, keenly aware that his portion of the spoils would be much smaller than what he could see here.

   It was not enough. It was never enough.

   The Raider landed. Their Archon, Lady Asenath, stood resplendent and expectant on the gangway, about to alight.

   "Roll the red carpet!" roared Marak, to Volanthe. She dropped her hand, and at once the Kabalites began decapitating the prisoners. First, the two nearest the Raider, then the next, and so on, an ever spreading pool of arterial blood providing a shimmering crimson patina over the patch of gravel they stood upon. Asenath descended, savouring the glory, and strode regally down the avenue. Her four incubi followed.

   Near the Raider, Marak watched her walk ahead, watched her withdraw a small fluted glass from her robed pocket, watched her kneel at the final captive to collect fresh bloodwine. He twitched. He could hardly bear it. One day, he said to himself, this will all be mine.

   Maybe even today.

   When the Incubi had moved past him, surveying his Warriors and the middle distance for threats, he drew the Dark Gate from his pocket. Moving his thumb to the activation switch he stalked forward.

----

   With one smooth, fluid movement, the fifth Incubus leapt from the Raider and cleft the traitorous Dracon in twain. He caught the Dark Gate as it fell, deftly deactivating it.

   Lady Asenath did not deign to turn around. When her glass was full, she rose, inhaling its aroma and savouring its heady mix of fear, panic, and sudden resignation.

   With an effort of will, she passed the glass to the stunned Volanthe, and spoke.

   "Tell me of our victory, Dracon Volanthe."



## Author comments:

My (late but not too late!) entry for the thirst short fic comp. I hope you enjoy it, in spite of poor ascii formatting! Smile
Back to top Go down
http://thecreepingdarkness.blogspot.com
CurstAlchemist
Wych
avatar

Posts : 867
Join date : 2015-05-01
Location : Las Vegas

PostSubject: Re: I never drink...   Mon Jul 13 2015, 16:51

I enjoyed reading it.
Back to top Go down
Jimsolo
Dracon
avatar

Posts : 3064
Join date : 2013-10-31
Location : Illinois

PostSubject: Re: I never drink...   Mon Jul 13 2015, 23:02

@Creeping Darkness wrote:
 "Arrange the slaves!"

   Marak gave hurried directions to the Sybarite, Volanthe. His Should this be 'her' Archon's personal Raider was cruising towards him.

   As she rushed to do his bidding, the Dracon Marak sniffed deeply, breathing in the stench of battle, and the fear of the conquered cattle. When said aloud, this last sentence rhymes.  Was that intentional?  If not, it's awkward. He watched as eight of the newly caught humans were wrangled into parallel lines, their pathetic quaking forms forming an avenue of honour.

   A Kabalite Warrior held each by a thorned chain around their necks, and forcibly abased them with a barbed foot in each back. Fresh from the shock of combat, their minds still reeling from loss, the [s]monkeigh[/s] mon-keigh obeyed the brutal instructions.

   The raid had indeed gone well. Though the danger was now over, waves of pain, suffering and exhilaration still suffused the verdant green plains. Marak delighted in the flow of sensation, drinking deeply as he reflected on the victorious vista. His victory.

   The Raider was close enough that Marak could see the grass underneath its thrusters flatten in its wake. Soon his Archon would be here. She would be pleased, Marak had no doubt. Maybe she would reward him like she had in times past...

   Marak gritted his teeth and [s]supressed[/s] suppressed the thought. Those times were long gone, and mere longing would not bring them back. He looked around, reviewing the carnage and plunder, keenly aware that his portion of the spoils would be much smaller than what he could see here.

   It was not enough. It was never enough.

   The Raider landed. Their Archon, Lady Asenath, stood resplendent and expectant on the gangway, about to alight.

   "Roll the red carpet!" roared Marak, to Volanthe. She dropped her hand, and at once the Kabalites began decapitating the prisoners. First, the two nearest the Raider, then the next, and so on, an ever spreading pool of arterial blood providing a shimmering crimson patina over the patch of gravel they stood upon. Asenath descended, savouring the glory, and strode regally down the avenue. Her four [s]incubi[/s] Incubi, I think followed.

   Near the Raider, Marak watched her walk ahead, watched her withdraw a small fluted glass from her robed pocket, watched her kneel at the final captive to collect fresh bloodwine. He twitched. He could hardly bear it. One day, he said to himself, this will all be mine.

   Maybe even today.

   When the Incubi had moved past him, surveying his Warriors and the middle distance for threats, he drew the Dark Gate from his pocket. Moving his thumb to the activation switch he stalked forward.

----

   With one smooth, fluid movement, the fifth Incubus leapt from the Raider and cleft the traitorous Dracon in twain. He caught the Dark Gate as it fell, deftly deactivating it.

   Lady Asenath did not deign to turn around. When her glass was full, she rose, inhaling its aroma and savouring its heady mix of fear, panic, and sudden resignation.

   With an effort of will, she passed the glass to the stunned Volanthe, and spoke.

   "Tell me of our victory, Dracon Volanthe."

Excellent flash fiction.  Very few composition errors, and you got a complete conflict-resolution cycle in.  I have to admit, I'm going to steal the 'red carpet' idea for a Dark Eldar diorama at some point.  Wonderful work, mate.
Back to top Go down
Creeping Darkness
Wych
avatar

Posts : 548
Join date : 2012-11-21

PostSubject: Re: I never drink...   Tue Jul 14 2015, 04:20

Thanks guys!

Quote :
Marak gave hurried directions to the Sybarite, Volanthe. His Should this be 'her' Archon's personal Raider was cruising towards him.

The intention was that although the Archon rules both Volanthe and Marak, Marak as the POV character thought of the Archon as "his", as he thinks about everything in terms of himself. I didn't notice that it was ambiguous until you pointed it out, oops.

Quote :
  As she rushed to do his bidding, the Dracon Marak sniffed deeply, breathing in the stench of battle, and the fear of the conquered cattle. When said aloud, this last sentence rhymes.  Was that intentional?  If not, it's awkward. He watched as eight of the newly caught humans were wrangled into parallel lines, their pathetic quaking forms forming an avenue of honour.

It was intentional, yes (although it can be both intentional and awkward Wink ). I usually try to work in some alliteration and assonance where appropriate, although I have been known to go overboard.

The three typos down the  page were not however intentional Embarassed. That's what I get for rushing I guess.

Thanks for the kind words. Funny thing, I originally intended to use the red carpet in a diorama, but never got around to it; ten years later I figured this story was just as good a vehicle Wink. Make sure you tell me when you finish that diorama!
Back to top Go down
http://thecreepingdarkness.blogspot.com
Sponsored content




PostSubject: Re: I never drink...   

Back to top Go down
 
I never drink...
Back to top 
Page 1 of 1

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
THE DARK CITY :: 

OTHER DRUKHARI DISCUSSION

 :: Stories & Art; The Black Library
-
Jump to: