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Cavash
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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Tue Jun 26 2012, 19:10

Thanks guys, I've got round to updating it now, so enjoy.

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Lady Malys
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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Tue Jun 26 2012, 19:23

Hmm, political machinations and tears before bedtime on the horizon I think ... It will be interesting to see what happens to the two ladies. The image of Cavash retracing his steps without a thought amid the carnage is quite chilling in its own way. Very descriptive of just how much the Ynneas Eladrith really do not care about things that might freeze another race in horror.

"Tiptoe through the carnage, through the carnage, that is where I'll be
Come tiptoe through the carnage with me"


Well, I doubt there are any tulips in the Dark City.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Tue Jun 26 2012, 19:31

Well, Mr. Lord Cavash has very big gardens. He may have a tulip in there somewhere, although it is most likely carnivorous and very, very hungry.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Wed Jul 04 2012, 15:46



Do you think that this could look menacing if it had razor sharp teeth, thorny creeper branches and ate people?

No, I'm not mad. Evil or Very Mad

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Wed Jul 04 2012, 16:29

Not mad at all, phalaenopsis are vicious flowers waiting to overthrow mankind and inherit the earth!

It's a good story frater! I had some concern that you were developing too many characters in a short space of time, but things appear to have knitted together very well indeed. Like everyone else, i look forward to the next installment Very Happy

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Wed Jul 04 2012, 16:48

Thank you, frater. I am glad you aprove.
The Charecter development issue shall be resolved soon enough, after all, this is Commorragh Very Happy

Do you remember this Phalaenopsis? It's the Raspbery Ripple Orchid, from a couple of years ago from the Flower Show. I think if it was slimy and slightly corrosive too, it could be quite a pretty thing for any Archon to have in his gardens.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Wed Jul 04 2012, 16:54

I do approve, your writing is on the whole very good and serves well to draw in the reader. In all fairness, with a spot of polish, it wouldn't be out of place in the Black Library.

And i do remember the orchid, but it's not as cool as the Clematis 'vienetta'... i feel rather odd discussing flowers on a DE forum... i shall retire to the glass houses and continue breeding my hyper-aggressive triffid willows...

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Wed Jul 04 2012, 16:59

@Alys Dwr wrote:
I do approve, your writing is on the whole very good and serves well to draw in the reader. In all fairness, with a spot of polish, it wouldn't be out of place in the Black Library.
Very Happy

Thank you very much, that is a great compliment, and I very much apreciate it.

I prefer to think of it as Discussing obscene and satisfying methods of modifying flora to better terminate my foes, but yes, that Clematis was splendid.

One more thing, you call it retiring to you glass houses, I call it fleeing back to Caliban! Razz

P.S. Good luck with your Willows.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Wed Jul 04 2012, 17:02

@Cavash wrote:

One more thing, you call it retiring to you glass houses, I call it fleeing back to Caliban! Razz
Oi you! Caliban was once covered in flora and fauna as would make even the most stalwart Archon hesitant.

And if you wouldn't mind, i'm trying to keep my allegiances low profile... Wink
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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Wed Jul 04 2012, 17:33

Hahaha, none can hide from the spies of the great Dernia Cavash!

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Thu Jul 05 2012, 21:18

500th post! Party time!
jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor jocolor

Chapter IX

He strained with all his might, body throbbing from ache as he moved the smashed Falcon. He grunted and ground his teeth at the effort; the only thing fuelling him was the combat drugs that heightened his aggression into an unhealthy state.
Finally, exasperated and hopeless, he screamed at the looming dusk, startling nearby wildlife.

Carrion birds that lingered to pick at the carcasses of the fallen took off, panicked by the primal rage of the alien. His anger caused him to punch the armour of the wrecked transport, denting it deeply with no noticeable pain to his wrist. It was all going wrong.

The Dracon couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity, or Prince Talludesh. If he died then he would not be able to hide from persecution at the hands of the Kabal. For a moment he shouted out again, the fires inside showing themselves once again. The frustration and anxiety made him want to end his life, there and then, but even then he could not escape torture and tormenting laughter.

He breathed deeply, regaining his calm before stretching and walking back over to the Falcon’s edge. Feigning calm, he slowly wrapped his fingers around the edge of the machine and tried to stand. Looking down at the Prince, trapped and unconscious didn’t help as he almost burst out laughing. It was so strange that his life depended on the life of such a weak creature.

Then, he stopped. Slowly he stood, facing the same direction, but staring at nothing in particular. Something had caught his attention. He turned his head, scoring the landscape for what he had seen, until he finally stopped. Grinning wildly he climbed upon the ruined craft and peered through the canopy. The inhabitant was still alive, and was starring straight back at him.

Dracon Relliach Korvesh reeled back, and placed his left hand on his stomach, the sharp pain tingling at his core. The canopy had cracked and only a tiny slit told of what had happened. Suddenly, he was flipped onto his back, his head thudding down on a rock while the canopy swung open. From inside the pilot clambered out and jumped down onto the sand. Hands trembling, he reached to his leg and withdrew the small knife from his side, before aiming down the length of his pistol and approaching slowly.

With a smirk Korvesh raised his hands, causing the pilot to come closer. After a moment of silence between them, the pilot knelt down beside the Dracon and poured some water on the wound. How typical of the Craftworlders to help even their enemy in their time of need.

The Dracon smiled, savouring the sensation of the Craftworlder pulling the Shuriken out of his gut before looking him in the eye and snapping his neck.

The soul hurried to escape, but Relliach clawed after it and inevitably savoured the concentrated sorrow it held, rekindling his own life.

Dazed, he pulled himself up from the ground and looked around. Not much remained. After the battle he had hid himself in a nearby cave and watched as the Mon-keigh, under the orders of that blasted psyker, or Inquisitor, as the called him, carried away the bodies of his men. Both Trueborn and lowly Tube-children were flung into the open cavities of their crude metal transports, limbs twisted and faces bloodied. They had taken their own soldiers too but with much more care. Loosing his finest elite Warriors would be devastating, but he knew that he could not intervene. The Incubi had chased off the Craftworlders, so everything was going according to his finely tuned plan.

He hadn’t seen what had happened to the inquisitor, however. His body was not on the field, but he had not seen him leave. Very peculiar.

The Prince was still breathing, and there was no sign of horrific bleeding on his part, so the Dracon scrambled up a small dune and gazed out over a large flat waste. Through the centre ran the canyon’s river. It was a slow trickling stream really, a stream that had earlier been blocked by hundreds of bodies, some previously departed and others drowning, unable to escape because of their injuries. The Inquisitor had done a good job of cleaning up the area and leaving no evidence of the battle, or even any evidence that any Eldar had set foot on the world, for a Mon-keigh. He was sure that they would have an excuse as to why the Hive had been annihilated, a reason so idiotic that it would only boost the Emperor’s flock into further fanatical worship. Luckily, the cleaning teams had not made it up to his location, but it would not be long. He could see them. For a moment he watched, disgusted at the fragility of such creatures. Watching their brutality and clumsiness with every action made him wonder why the High Archon had allowed them to excavate the tomb, which, irritatingly, had now disappeared.
____________________________________

They had not noticed her arrival in the dead of night. Her craft had landed two miles away from the small coastal town where she had been sent. She had crept through the mountainous forests to look over the town. It was an unimpressive establishment. Rows and rows of houses and factories built on a downward sloping hill that finally stopped at the sea front, where an endless pier lanced out into the misty night above the crashing waves.

The fact that she had needed to hide and sneak around numerous patrols of Imperial Guardsmen, many of whom were intoxicated, told her that the High Archon’s inclination on the location of the Inquisitor had been correct. Usually the Guardsmen may have been enough to spot Orks or stop a small rebellion amongst the town’s people, but their numbers were too high to just be an average city defence force.

She crouched in a natural alcove that had been carved by weather and wind beneath the roots of a needle leafed tree that jutted up high in the air. Keeping her motions as natural and fluid as possible, she raised her rifle and looked into the town. Her helmet flashed red sigils before her eyes, informing her of the numbers in the streets and primary targets. Luckily, the only people in the streets were wounded veterans from previous wars returning home from the few working class taverns that littered the streets. Even though it pleased her that the lack of a real defence would not hinder her progress, she still thirsted for a real fight. Yes, sniping was fun, it was her calling. Nothing satisfied her more than watching the cranium of a high ranking officer become nothing more than vapour, the cerebral matter splattering his servants with dismay and panic, but sometimes a straight up knife fight just filled her heart with a joy that she had failed to find elsewhere.

It was just before the dying of the moon, a time referred to as by these Mon-keigh as midnight. That meant that soon a distraction would be at hand as thousands took to the streets to go home from a long shift or to return to the workhouses. Soon her plan would be complete and she would be back at her master’s home, in peace and quiet where she could meditate and enjoy the rewards that Lord Cavash would give her for her success.

Voices came from the darkness up the hill behind her, and carefully she readjusted her position, forcing herself into a small gap within a mound of jagged rocks. Even though they wouldn’t be able to see her she did not wish for one to trip over her and start to fire wildly, provoking suspicion.

From the number of voices she estimated that there were five of them, and from her observations earlier that would be correct. She had noticed that on high lying areas small pits were dug into the hills, surrounded with sandbags and fortified with crude, slug throwing gun emplacements. Each had a number of searchlights beneath cammo nets that failed to hide them from her. She had watched them to get used to their patterns and noted their locations. It seemed that each pit held five men at a time while five others would patrol the area. After an hour was over they would return to the pit and the other five would begin their patrol. A couple she had found, however, were more heavily fortified. They had portable defence armour plating surrounding them with a number of weapons pointing in all directions. She had estimated that these could hold twenty people at a time, unless they had underground bunkers. Then the threat would be much bigger.

She could hear the humans stagger towards the alcove, drunk and undisciplined. She was sure that if an officer were to find them that they would be executed. Humans were useless.

They were louder and louder as they came to a halt on the overhang just above her. Together, they stared over the town as one slid carefully down the bank and looked over to where she was crouched. Anxious, she placed her hand on the hilt of her hunting knife, but, as she suspected, the human looked away and continued to walk. He stopped beside her and stood looking up at the stars. She had not expected him to undo the zip on his fatigues and start urinating. Instantly disgust overwhelmed her, and even though she was outside of the splash range she still took it as her responsibility to stop this act. Smiling slightly, she shifted towards him, took a breath and…

His squad moved down the hill as quickly as they could. The Trooper had rolled over four hundred metres, colliding with every tree truck and ploughing through every spiked berry bush on the way. His head had smacked from side to side and as he began to reach a dangerous speed he emptied his stomach in the air around him. It was spectacular, especially through the Archon’s thermal imaging sensors. He was a blur that suddenly gave off a putrid cloud that flashed orange on her screen. It clung to the trees and ground around him, quickly cooling. The best part was what her advanced sense had allowed her to see, but what the other Mon-keigh were unaware of. His Flak Vest, possibly the only thing that would save him after his helmet shot off into a thicket of brambles, was becoming shaky and loose.

His water canteen ruptured, his bladder gave way and finally the clasps of his Flak Vest sheered apart. Moving at full speed the young human became impaled upon the dead branch of a freshly fallen tree.

From her position the spray of blood was certainly something to be savoured, and something that she would sell to the Pain Merchants once she returned home.

Happily she watched as the four other soldiers chased after him, scurrying sideways down the bank while one decided to run straight on. She saw an opportunity for more hilarity, but had to refrain from firing at a soldier’s knee cap, as if he was found to be wounded then it would go some way to ensuring that the entire city knew that somebody had snuck in to spread anarchy. With a sigh she lowered her rifle and moved further down the bank, slinking like a serpent silently slipping through the vegetation.
______________________________

He had broken away from the central banqueting hall. The presence of the arrogant nobles that had willingly given their land to his father’s Kabal irritated him immensely. Each one thought themselves better than everyone else within the Dark City, but wouldn’t dare to say it out loud. Maybe that was because they truly knew that they did not even deserve pity, as they were scum so low that they should be dropped into the Khaides. Even then they would shame its glowing green banks with their cowardice and genetic lies. They believed themselves to be pure blooded, but they were all Half-bloods that had lived long enough to buy themselves a title. They thought that they had power and influence, but in the Luckr’yth’s eyes they were as lowly as slaves. They were only allowed to live because no reason had been found, as of yet, for why the Janissaries should murder them in their sleep.

It was an unusual sight for the Prince to be walking by himself, not surrounded by servants and guards, but it was a sight that frightened all who he passed on the system of capillary balconies and bridges. He walked past crowds at a time and everyone bowed as not to catch his attention.

Kabalites saluted and slaves scarpered away, all fearing that he had inherited his father’s rage. Such anger had not been seen in him, yet. It was feared that he was repressing everything he ever felt and that it would one day spark, leading to the type of genocide started by his father millennia ago.

That dark era was only spoken of in hushed whispers from beneath dark hoods, as it was seen as attempting to soil the Cavash name, a crime punishable by death. For two centuries he turned large sections of Commorragh into meat grinders and abattoirs through manipulation and lies. He turned Kabal against Kabal and set up secret alliances between forces of rival sides, causing the command structure of each Kabal involved to collapse due to paranoia and unjust assassination. Then, when forces were confused and demoralised in the field his forces would swoop in and gather the weakened warriors to work as slaves. Each strike force was led by a Janissary, and each Janissary only answered to Dernia Cavash.

After slaves had been taken Janissary agents befriended, as well as they could, each family that had been taken over. Those who resisted, or were outwardly hostile, were eliminated silently, while the rest were invited to a Banquet so extravagant that it seemed that even the Dark Muses did not deserve it. In the Depraved Reserves they gathered before being invited into a vast courtyard, where their new master stood upon a plinth, overlooking them. His speech brought tears of joy and hope, yet crushed the spirit of all present, and when they believed that they would be invited in, it began.
A complex virus was released upon them, a virus so dangerous that it broke down the DNA structures of all considered to possess ‘undesirable’ genes before targeting the heart.

Many gruesome weapons come from the Dark City, yet this only made the victim’s heart stop. Few survived, and it was these ‘nobles’ Luckr’yth was forced to be around that evening.

Naturally, the virus was released upon the other the Kabals crushed by Dernia’s scheming. It killed off the short, the old, the ill and the weak. The only people it left untouched were tall and pale with above average intelligence and stronger, more defined, musculature. Of course, killing off trillions with a virus was boring if he could not watch it work, so he had Haughraskaivaach release it into the ranks of his own Kabalites.

Eventually separate Haemonculus Covens came together in an unholy union of art and death, and were able to eradicate the virus from the streets, saving countless trillions more. It had always been speculated that Dernia had retained enough of the virus to launch further strikes if anything was ever to displease him with any severity. If he had completed weaponising the strain earlier then the first great war between the Pierced Heart and Poisoned Tongue could have had an entirely different outcome.

“Brother.” Luckr’yth turned, startled at the voice. He had not noticed anybody else around.

“What are you doing here?” He asked with genuine sincerity in his voice, something not often found within the Dark City. It pained her, for a moment, as if she had felt the keen edge of an assailants blade part her head from her shoulders.

“…erm…” She hesitated before gathering her thoughts. “The same as you. Those petulant nobles are insufferable.”

“You were not present in the banquet, Althianesh, so what noble had irked you?”

She smiled and looked down into the forbidden gardens, admiring the scent even though they were miles away. The cold winds carried the toxic pollen that delightfully scintillated the senses.

“No one man has bothered me, but the fact that we are forced to share our home with these… these peasants, and that we weren’t allowed to raid with father has frustrated me deeply.”

“Sister, you must understand something. I am here to rule in Lord Cavash’s absence and you are the most treasured of possessions to him.”

Her head shot towards him, flames of anger twinkling like raging stars in her eyes.

“I am nobody’s possession, and I can’t believe that you fear him so much that you call him ‘Lord’. You are a coward, Luckr’yth.”

“Do not attempt to shame me, sister.”

“You don’t deserve to call me sister, half breed. Even though this has never been said to your face everybody knows that father grew you in the womb of a Craftworlder as a mere experiment. You are not a brother to me, you have the caution and softness of a Craftworlder and you are just as boring.”

He drew the Power Sword from his hip, activating it immediately. Even though he was not armoured he would never travel anywhere without sufficient weaponry.

“Your disrespect shall not go unpunished, sibling.”

“Prove to me that you’re not boring. Prove to me that you are not another one of father’s mindless servants, relentlessly seeking his approval.”

She jumped down from her perched position upon the balcony railing and walked up to him, gently knocking the sword aside with a knife, sparks momentarily arcing into the air

“I have no need, or desire, to prove myself to you. You are young and do not realise the worth of restraint and respecting those who deserve it.”

“Haha, in other words you are a coward! Come on; let’s go down to the gardens. Only when you learn to break rules with YOU realise the true meaning of them when fully intact.”

With a stern expression he did not break eye contact with his sister, but powered down his blade, sheathed it and beckoned for her to follow as he turned away.
__________________________________

The sun had finally set and the wildlife slumbered as a chill began to line the canyon walls with frost. Realising the futility of his efforts he surveyed the crashed Craftworld vehicle for anything than could help him. He had snapped off spindly useless looking pieces and attempted to excavate a trough around the prince, but found that all the time he had spent trying to save the Prince was wasted. He could feel his own soul being drained away. His limbs were tired and he was losing the will to do anything at all. He could kill the prince and take a finger or an ear to have him regenerated from, but that would slow his plan drastically and would risk far too much. With a pained sigh he sat down beside the Craftworlder’s corpse, and after a moment, began to think dark thoughts.

He smiled and withdrew a monomolecular knife from its home upon his leg while he kicked the helmet from the body. He knelt down beside it and cut into the throat. Cleanly flesh parted, and with surgical precision he started to peel the flesh back from neck vertebrae until enough bone was exposed for him to easily snap the head away. No expression flickered across his face to tarnish the cool aloofness he felt while desecrating the body.

Inspecting the layout of tendons, and moving his fingers away from the blade as he ran the edge across the face, he began to peel away the surface, flesh and vessels leaking the last of their congealing juices over his hands.
After minutes of whittling he finally had a skull in perfect condition, ignoring the blood covered surface.
Finally allowing himself a smile of ecstasy, Dracon Korvesh turned his blade upon the rest of the body.
__________________________________________

She had infiltrated the city with great success, leaving only four other humans dead. Naturally she made all of them look like accidents; a drunk fallen that became impaled on a metal fence post, a woman who tripped and cracked her head open over the pavement, a man fallen into the street who had been hit by a thirty six wheeled delivery truck and finally a Guardsmen who lit a lho stick after brushing his Las-gun with oil, but failed to clean his own hands. She had made a game out of it, but finally she had arrived in the estate occupied by the Inquisitor.

It was a large, stately manor with polished black stone walls and void of any external markings, giving it the presence that the Inquisition loved to intimidate locals with. No such fright would befall her, however, as no Mon-keigh could ever best her.
She gazed down her scope from her position in a small woodland. A tributary stream ran beside her, masking her presence with the constant light trickling that made her remember why she hated humans. They cherished such ridiculous things, a child’s laughter, the success of others. She couldn’t bear to think about it for too long as she began to feel physically sick.

Two hundred metres ahead a patrol of a single man accompanied by three Gun Servitors looked in her direction, inspecting for any disturbance. Finally, when she allowed herself to exhale, they left. She was prepared to shoot the patrol leader in the eye if he showed any sign of attacking, but she knew that she would not last. Two of the Servitors carried Multi Meltas; the other had a Heavy Bolter. She did have five Haywire Grenades, but one would, most likely, not be enough to stop three of them judging how far apart they were.

She moved her sights upon a large staircase the lead up to the main entrance. Naturally, that was too heavily guarded for any direct attack. Eighteen stories high meant that there were at least eighteen different levels, of entry, however, so she moved stealthily east, avoiding the poorly placed traps and sensors within the woodland.

She snarled behind her helm as it flashed red in front of her eyes. The diamond tracker had detected life and marked the position as out in the open. She looked over to the tired soldier who leant against a statue, lho stick smouldering between his fingers. His Vox crackled and he answered. That was him reporting in the results of his guard post so far, and it would be at least another half an hour until he would need to make contact again. That left her with plenty of time. She lined up her sights with the Mon-keigh’s exposed neck and flicked her rifle’s settings to Hexrifle rounds. Without a second thought she pulled the trigger.

The human became one with the statue, his confusion set in a crystalline beauty forever. The Lho stick still burnt in his hand.
____________________________________

The scent hit them like a raw narcotic straight to the bloodstream. Drowsiness set in and together they stumbled into the gardens, venturing deeper and deeper into the private domain of Lord Cavash. As flowers detected their presence they spat fresh pollen from the great black trumpets that shot through high red plumage.

Small creeping plants snaked at their feet and began to tug at their robes and constrict their ankles if they remained in one place for too long. Wide leaves shot up from short stalks, stealing whatever light they could get, moisture pooled on their surface. Needle edges dug into their legs and lacerated each other if they strayed too close.

Trees towered high, their branches adorned with all sorts of fruit that paralysed, combusted when eaten and poisoned the very ground they landed on. One of the most painful plants that the brother and sister suffered through while cutting back vines that attempted to strangle them was a short, thin grass that was as strong as steel but thrice as sharp as any blade he had come across.

The problem with this plant, however, was not when it sat low to the ground, but when somebody stepped lightly on a root or thorned tendril that it used to clear the area around it. If it detected pressure the thin, sharp leaves would eject coiled up thorns with horrific pressure and force, ensnaring the offender and reeling him in to be digested by a gaping maw at the centre. Many small, exotic creatures were impaled by these deceptive floras. Many lay dying; others were all ready in the central pool, their muscles and skin being visibly stripped from bone.

“Where does he find these plants?” Althianesh panted, the toxic air weakening her.

“I think he grows them.” Luckr’yth caught up after decapitating a plant named ‘Insidious Rush’.

“Come on. Much more to see.” She carried on walking, her brother doubtful to whether she was capable of any rational thought whatsoever.

“We should leave soon sister. This is not healthy.”

No reply came from the foliage.

“Althianesh?”

He turned and inspected every direction, searching for her.

“Alth-” His shout was halted prematurely as a thick vine pulled him off into the undergrowth. His arms flailed, his skin was torn by the countless thorn and hook shrubs he was dragged through. Struggling, he drew his Power Sword and cut himself loose, sending him hurtling into a clearing as a super sonic screech was emitted from nearby.
He sprung to his feet and saw it, the thing that had his sister.

He had slain Tyranids of all sorts, he had faced Ork Nobs and came out of the skirmish unscathed and alive. He could not be beaten but fungi, yet now plants were mocking him. The plant that had his sister was a twenty foot high white flower with pink speckles. Hundreds of vines ran out from the stem and fed a central mouth of razor tusks whatever they could find. The flower’s surface was covered in a thick slime, one that made vast amounts of steam whenever it dripped onto surrounding plants. It was, from what he could tell, horribly corrosive.

Shaking off any fear he felt he prepared himself and launched forward, slicing effortlessly through creeping tendril and thorned vine alike. Ruthlessly he made a barrage of attacks, targeting both leaves and surface roots alike. Looking up he began to panic.

The plant was raising his sister high into the air, her unconscious form simply dangling limp as she moved towards the devouring mouth. After a momentary burst of blurring speed he drove his Sword into the central stem, only barely damaging the metre thick column upon which the carnivorous flower rested. With another blood curdling scream a vine hit him in the back, sending him fourteen metres away into a thicket that ensnared him like barbed wire. Screaming, he struggled as he saw the blood ooze from every inch of his body. Reaching into the inner pocket of his robe he pulled out a device, raised it high and pulled the pin. For miles around the forest recoiled in horror as pure, unnatural pain and the essence of torture was released. It brought him enough time to scramble free, draw his Blast Pistol and place a single shot through Althianesh’s wrist, causing her hand to fall like the violent fruit of the Garden.

Mustering the last of his concentration he was able to charge one final time to obtain Althianesh’s hand before fleeing to avoid the sound of her bones crack and her organs split open, their fluids rupturing like obscene fireworks.


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Lady Malys
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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Fri Jul 06 2012, 20:20

(There are a couple of typos here and there, but they don't detract from the story at all.)

Wow.

OK, wow on its own is a useless if complimentary comment Very Happy So ...

Several things stood out for me in this one; some very striking images, in particular Eventually separate Haemonculus Covens came together in an unholy union of art and death and The human became one with the statue, his confusion set in a crystalline beauty forever. The Lho stick still burnt in his hand.

The entire mad anti-Eden of the gardens was so vivid I could almost smell the scent of all that greenery and lushness, and the last scene with the hand was very memorable.

You're really getting into your stride here Very Happy

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Fri Jul 06 2012, 20:29

Thank you very much, Malys. The unholy Eden was something that I have always wanted to write about, especially the massive monster Orchid.

I'm glad that your enjoying the imagery, I am quite proud of it to be honest. Cool ... In a completely un-narcissistic and self glorifying kind of way...

Sorry about the typos, I'd be happy to change them if you could point them out, as spelling is, by far, not my strong point.

Thanks again, and I'm glad that you're enjoying it. Very Happy

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Fri Jul 06 2012, 20:33

That's fine, I'll PM you with them so as not to clutter up the thread. Smile

I used to collect cacti and succulents, so while not as much of a a plant fan as you I do appreciate them. I even got my Venus Flytrap to flower Smile

... it didn't eat anyone, though.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Fri Jul 06 2012, 20:45

Cheers Malys.

I have to give thanks to Alys Dwr, though, for getting me interested in plants in the first place and teaching me nearly everything that I know about them.

I do like the Flytrap's flowers. It's odd how something so simple and majextic could sprout from a hungry, viscious looking thing.

I don't know if it is a good or a bad thing that you haven't trained it to eat people... did the Flytrap every try to eat anybody?

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Mon Jul 09 2012, 02:45

Not that I ever saw. I wouldn't like to have to account for all my visitors, though Wink

My own knowledge of plants comes from reading pretty much omnivorously as a child. For anyone wanting to broaden their interests I'd recommend a few weeks with only a small library van's stock to choose from - you'd be surprised what you end up knowing! It's how I learned about gerbils, tropical fish and Scottish monsters. A combination only a deranged Haemonculus would have a use for all at once ...

Getting back on track I can't decide if Luckr'yth tries so hard to save his sister because he actually likes her company (I'm not saying a great deal, perhaps doesn't hate her enough to see her dead would be more accurate), or simply because he knows the consequences of losing his father's favourite toy ...


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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Mon Jul 09 2012, 23:03

Mwahahahahahahaaaa!!!
That can not be disclosed at this time! Razz
It will most likely be another month until anything else is posted up, so I'm sorry to keep you waiting.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Tue Jul 10 2012, 11:26

Curse you for going on holiday!!!

On the plus side, you'll have plenty of spare time to get lots of writing done and then bombard us with new chapters when you get back Very Happy

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Tue Jul 10 2012, 18:15

This was epic, keep up the good work!!!
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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Wed Jul 11 2012, 00:43

@Alys Dwr wrote:
Curse you for going on holiday!!!
You're just jealous because you're not in the land of sunshine! Razz


@Zehra wrote:
This was epic, keep up the good work!!!
Thanks alot Zehra! Very Happy

I shall definately be working on more, so be on the lookout!

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Fri Jul 20 2012, 17:32

I have not been able to write much while I've been away, so for now I'm just going to start proofreading and editting. I shall repost the chapters one at a time upon completion.

Edit:
First chapter proofread.

If you notice any mistakes or errors then please PM me so I can improve the post. It will be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Sun Jul 22 2012, 16:48

Second chapter proofread and shall be updated shortly.

Edit: Updated.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Tue Jul 24 2012, 19:01

Should have the third and fourth chapters Proofread by tonight, also I have made some more progress on the next chapter, so expect an update in the first week of next month.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Thu Jul 26 2012, 02:09

I've encountered a slight problem with my future storyline, so I don't know how much work I'll do soon. I'll have to replan and iron it out first.

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PostSubject: Re: Piercing Dark.   Thu Jul 26 2012, 09:17

Explain the problem away with the warp or some sort of temporal anomaly generated by a webway portal. It's the GW way to do things Smile

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Piercing Dark.
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