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 Patricide

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The_Burning_Eye
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PostSubject: Patricide   Thu Mar 29 2012, 12:52

Ylos Dalur felt vulnerable.

In the city of shadows, venturing alone into Aelindrach where its occupants existed in no single dimension and could materialise at will was not advisable. It was necessary however, if he was to succeed in his plans to usurp his father and take his rightful place in the circles of power in Commorragh. To make matters worse, Ylos was seeking the very inhabitants of this realm who were most dangerous, the Mandrakes themselves, in the hopes that he could strike a bargain to secure their help in his rise to power. The Mandrakes were not known to be the most accommodating of mercenaries however, and their help was rarely bought by conventional means, Dalur had secured a meeting with a nightfiend of some note by the name of K’Jell, bought at great expense in the souls of some of his finest warriors and beasts that would have brought great profit to his house had they been sold to the arenas.

Ylos shivered, and drew his cloak tighter about him, Aelindrach was dark and cold even by the standards of most realms of Commorragh, and he could not help but feel that otherworldly eyes had been watching him ever since he exited the portal into this part of the dark city. It had been raining ever since he had left his father’s palace, and the normally resplendent turquoise crest of his helm was now sodden and bedraggled, dripping a contact stream of water on to the enamelled plates of his grey armour, their edges glittering a golden yellow even the dim light of the alleyway. Dalur did not trust entirely the information passed to him by the mercurial Scourge Calastor regarding the Mandrakes agreement to their meeting, but neither did he wish to risk losing their assistance by not coming alone, and so he had left S’syd his normally ever-present Sslyth bodyguard behind at the gateway to the realm.

A sudden drop in the air temperature snapped Dalur’s attention back to his immediate surroundings, the rain that had been falling now turned to hail, drumming a metallic patter as the drops ricocheted from his armoured form. Before he had time to draw his weapon however the air was rent asunder by a sound from an alternate dimension. Dalur fell to his knees, the sound resonating not just in the audible spectrum but setting the very basic building blocks of his body grating against each other. As suddenly as it had begun, the screaming stopped, and the agony began to recede. Dalur raised his head and froze, looking up at a creature straight out of a nightmare, which held a blade that appeared little more than a sharpened lump of metal, but from the feel of its hooked point against his neck, was just as sharp as any blade within his own personal armoury. The hand holding the blade was black, so black it seemed almost to suck in the small amount of light available, and was only defined by the absence of colour. The rest of the creatures skin was similarly coloured, though it was inscribed in places with swirling runes and patterns that burned with an inner light, greenish yellow like balefire, increasing in its intensity as the creature’s muscles flexed. The same light burned in its eyes, burrowing into Dalur’s being as if examining his inner purpose somehow.

‘I am K’Jell, child of the moon, you have entered my lair, state your business, interloper.’ The Mandrakes voice hissed into the air, two parts seemingly out of phase with each other giving the creature’s words an echo, as though it were whispering to him from an alternate reality. More disturbing however, was that the creature’s words were uttered seemingly without the need for a mouth, the lower part of its face completely featureless.

‘I come seeking your aid, moonchild, there is someone I wish dead, but their death must remain unconnected to me.’ Dalur replied hesitantly, he had conducted many negotiations in his life, though never before at the point of a blade where one wrong word would see his throat slit and his life essence washed away into obscurity.

‘Death comes at a price, each is different, name the dead and I shall name my price.’

‘His name is Sulan Dalur, Archon of the Kabal of the Beast Enslaved, and my true-born father.’

‘Death of a kin-creature is the most precious of deaths, and should be savoured above all others.’ The words snaking their way into Dalur’s head driving home the import of the project on which he was about to embark. ‘Are you sure you wish the Mandrakes to undertake this death on your behalf?’

‘To kill this man myself would be crude. True, the satisfaction of sinking my blade into his flesh would give me succour beyond any I have known, but in such matters elegance is of prime concern not just personal satisfaction.’ Dalur replied, slipping more easily into his rehearsed reasoning the longer the conversation lasted, amazed at how easily he began to dismiss the presence of the blade at his throat.

‘Very well, but the price comes in two parts.’ Said the nightfiend. ‘The first part is payment for my assistance. The route by which you came to me is no longer hidden you will therefore pay for your new position of power with your warriors, who will guard the path and ensure that no other enters Aelindrach this way. The second part is the payment for the death. Your father still holds to the old ways in his heart, you are of value to him. You will pay for his death with his tears. Bring them to Calastor and your father will die, but do not forget the first half of our bargain. The Mandrakes do not forget and there is no boundary through which we cannot pass.’

With that, K’Jell withdrew his blade and slowly walked backwards, stepping into the shadows before disappearing completely, apparently through the wall of the nearby building neatly illustrating just exactly what threat he posed should Dalur fail.

Ylos shuddered, realising only now how tensed his muscles had been during the striking of his bargain. As he rose to his feet, the reality of the pact struck home, his destiny would be forever entwined with this place and though the Mandrakes would expect his betrayal, the threat of their vengeance hung heavy on his mind. He would have to become powerful indeed before he could consider courting their vengeance.

The bargain had been made however, and as he began to make his way back to his father’s holdings, he noticed that he trod lighter than before, invigorated by his brush with the Nightfiend and his own death, energised by treading the path of a future shaped by his own hand.

* * * * *

Feedback welcome, the next part will deal with his father's death

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Zehra
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PostSubject: Re: Patricide   Fri Mar 30 2012, 00:44

Huh, I wonder if he'll fail or succeed, if this is a plot by his father or something...
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Thor665
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PostSubject: Re: Patricide   Fri Mar 30 2012, 00:57

I really like the descriptive prose thus far, very good use of detail.

Should be interesting to see how he manages to get the tears for payment though - that can't be an easy thing to extract from any Dark Eldar, much less an Archon.

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The_Burning_Eye
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PostSubject: Re: Patricide   Fri Mar 30 2012, 11:49

@Thor - Yeah I made a rod for my own back there didn't i. Still, I like a challenge and I've got a few ideas (well, one good one). And no, it doesn't involve onions, turns out the chemical composition of tears caused by that sort of thing is different to ones caused by extremes of emotion.

Extra praise for anyone that connects K'jell to a famous british heavy metal band.

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Beaviz81
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PostSubject: Re: Patricide   Sat Apr 28 2012, 13:56

The betrayal of the beloved son can probably bring out some tears. I think the writing is nice, and the idea of a son or daughter killing his or her parents probably is commonplace amongst the Dark Eldar. I personally there think mommy and daddy there can feel some perverted pride in that the kid finally dared trying to kill them before they punish their kid by f.ex. offing every lover the kid has or the mentor of the kid to set it in it's place.

Heck I even have that idea in my work about my own chars. Though that end with son coming home, son finding out daddy wanna marry him off to demon, son massacring them all.
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