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 Meeting the Oracle

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Cavash
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PostSubject: Meeting the Oracle   Tue Jul 02 2013, 17:26

After having recently lost the creativity in my mind I decided to try and write something short in the hope that it would kick my mind back into gear.

It doesn't really have a title, and the main character is currently unnamed, btut I'm happy with how it turned out. Smile

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Story:

“You must lay his body to the dust.” The disembodied voice came from the very walls of the cavern, echoing and reverberating around him; through his body and his soul. The air around him was stained thick with the remnants of psychic discharge. The longer he was there, the more the ice upon the walls seemed to grow.

“How would one go about doing that?” He asked while slowly turning, hoping to find something new to focus upon in the spherical obsidian chamber.

Skull-crushing teeth with glowing daemonic wards carved into their surface rattled from their chains as he switched his Splinter Pistol to ‘armed’. He doubted anything would attack from the shadows due to the nature of his visit, but there was nothing wrong with cautionary paranoia.

He had heard of this oracle; whispered to be a witch from the lips of naïve masses. He had heard many stories of this prophet from drunkards in ramshackle taverns and from men who demanded money for their thoughts but were more easily persuaded with a blade. Many years ago he would not have entertained the idea of such a creature being able to help him, but in light of recent events any thoughts of sanity, logic or sensibility seemed to shatter.

His soul was marked. He was the hunted – once the hunter. In the face of eternal nightmare one can be driven to dark places.

The prophet hissed, “As one who has overcome death itself I thought that you would know.” Age. Time itself felt as if it had been distilled to create the sounds that flowed through him. They forged an understanding and clarity that (even though foul to endure) caused a great understanding in his soul.

“I have died and been reborn.” He answered. “I have not died and remained in the realms of forbidden torment. My body has shattered and been burned, but I have not once experienced the agony of eternity.” The air cooled a little. This was a sign that he took as a command to continue. “I have died physically, but never spiritually. I have no knowledge of what lies beyond, what secrets are hidden or what pacts could be forged. His black soul will overcome my hollow spirit, so I ask you once more: how would I lay ‘The Deathless’ to rest?”

“I thought that your Lord would know.” The mention of the Archon’s master was in openly mocking tones. At one point in his life he would have cared and not stood for such an insult, but recently his master had become disillusioned with his accomplishments… and more recently he had been expelled from the High Court.

“Don’t expect him to know everything. He might be old, but he can be a fool just like any other.”
“Then why let him push you from his favour? Why still remain loyal and come to his aid when he has abandoned you?” Wind started to howl and grow in strength, whipping his cape into the shadows.

“What would you do in his position? What would you do in my position? I am cursed; for now. I am still his blade, even if I must rust in my scabbard.”

“Rust? You are not rusting, Archon. You are a blade that is hunted by many. A blade that he did wield. A blade that he cast aside until those who wish to own it could sort matters out for themselves.”

“He will pick the blade back up.” He had to strain his voice over the rising vortex of wind. Particles of dust thrashed at his exposed face making him grimace to fight against the freezing ache in his flesh. “This blade must cut those who seek to steal it.” He drew his sword.

Lightning split the air.

Ozone hit his senses.

He was returned.

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Lady Malys
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PostSubject: Re: Meeting the Oracle   Tue Jul 02 2013, 21:52

Quote :
In the face of eternal nightmare one can be driven to dark places.

This is a very resonant sentence. I liked what you did with this story, and the forbidden (but always tempting) use of a psyker. I would like to see more! Very Happy

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Cavash
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PostSubject: Re: Meeting the Oracle   Tue Jul 02 2013, 22:03

Thank you very much!

In the past few hours this guy's backstory has developed quite a lot. I know have a detailed backstory for him, instead of one that would just do for the background of the guy in this story. I might get around to writing more about him, but I might not. That's why I like doing short pieces like this! Very Happy

Thanks for the feedback. Smile

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PostSubject: Re: Meeting the Oracle   Wed Jul 03 2013, 14:01

I have no idea how long I'm going to carry this on for, but it seems to have caught my attention at the moment. Anyhow, I hope that you enjoy it. Smile


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Part II:

His eyes ached as if scratched by sand.

His heart pounded as if overdosing on hypex.

He took in a deep gasp, jolting his body back into motion.

How long had he been in this state? How long had it been since his corsairs had retrieved him?

With the speed of lightning yet thrice as wrathful, he sped from his bed and flashed across the room.
His armour had been removed. Why? All he had to protect him were the tattoos and ritualistic scars that adorned his bare form, but even with them he doubted that it would be enough. He could have been exposed for too long. He could have been still for too long. They could have found him.

Kicking a door open he moved through the cabin and past the many locked cases that lined the walls leading to the inner sanctum of his personal domain. As he ran he collected the glowing, carved teeth and grasped them tightly in his left hand. With his right hand he procured a knife from one of the shelves and knocked a few far more deadly trinkets to the ground.

A phial smashed behind him, but he was too busy to care about the repercussions.
He could feel its presence.

He was being chased.

Why had the fools removed his armour? Why had the fools not locked him away like he had ordered? Even though it was at the back of his mind he was already planning the appropriate punishment.

The vault’s door retracted upon identifying him a dozen metres away, but he could feel the tugging at his mind. He was growing weaker. He could hear the slow footsteps clicking on the polished ground behind him… or were the sounds in his mind?

He dropped to one knee at the steps leading to the sanctum, hands grasping at his head and slowly sliding forward to claw across his face. Blood spilt freely from the open wounds. Skin was lodged beneath his nails, but he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t hear his own screams or taste his pain over the tempest that was set to ruin his mind.

A spring of insanity had been opened within him. The gnarled face was at the forefront of his vision: eyeballs vomiting fire and horns growing to pierce from the forehead and cheekbones in asymmetrical clusters. The skin of the nightmare grew dead and pallid before peeling away in dry sheets. The sound of his own pulse was deafening as the grotesque visage opened its maw as if with the intention on consuming him.

Then all was silent.

In his vision two armour-clad Warriors stood, high staves capped with glowing skulls bringing a new terror; absolute silence.

It was the silence after the anarchy that was worst. It let him know that he was mortal. It let him know how close to death he truly was.

“Lord.” They both bowed from beneath their face concealing hoods before leaning down to carry him back to his feet.

His head rolled from side to side to view them, as if intoxicated or poisoned. “W-what…?”

“Retain your strength, master.”

He shook his head in answer. “What… h-happened?”

“I do not know.” They carried him up the steps and into his sanctum. It was a vast room lit by thousands of braziers. Bookshelves stood in regimented formations containing all of the Archon’s stolen and accumulated knowledge.

“The face.” He whispered as the Warriors set him down upon his throne. “It wants the flames…” from his wounds vital fluids ran into his lips while he spoke, causing him to spit droplets of blood. “It cannot have them… they cannot be extinguished.”

“Bring the Archon’s pet.” The more senior of the Warriors dictated to the other. “Maybe it can make some sense of this.”

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Last edited by Cavash on Mon May 19 2014, 19:30; edited 5 times in total
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Lady Malys
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PostSubject: Re: Meeting the Oracle   Wed Jul 03 2013, 15:19

Shocked Tense! I found myself reading this at a terrific pace just to keep up with the dramatic tension! Very immediate and enthralling!

... I need to know more.

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Mngwa
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PostSubject: Re: Meeting the Oracle   Wed Jul 03 2013, 17:24

Someone not a mandrake with magical tattoos? affraid 
Oh and something awful happening to that guy. Of course I noticed that too.
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PostSubject: Re: Meeting the Oracle   Wed Jul 03 2013, 19:25

I am very happy that you're both enjoying it! It is very thrilling to write and it was just flowing from my fingertips!Very Happy

Does anybody care to guess at what's happening? I love to hear people's theories on what they think is transpiring.

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PostSubject: Re: Meeting the Oracle   Mon May 19 2014, 20:25

I was going to finish this at part three, but I can't have it end on this one. Anyhow, enjoy!

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Part III:

The air rang with raw emotion, a feeling that resonated to the very core of each Eldar present. It had only become a noticeable presence when the Archon had ordered the deactivation of his guards’ skull-capped weapons. The pet had projected his mind, frightened and pained, into the thoughts of all those around. The whelp was still bound in a physical sense, but now its thoughts were free to experience what little freedom there was as a slave to the Ynneas Eldarith.

Very few were present, only those that had been exposed to such creatures before. Each of the five Dark Eldar had scars on their very souls left by the likes of witches and those beyond the veil.

What?!

The demand boomed through the air, more of an instinctive feeling that all present recognised than a clear thought.

“Your insight is needed, slave.” A Warrior free from helm shouted, pulling the chain around the beast's throat towards himself. A metal ring was fashioned around the psyker's neck and from it four chains sprouted into depraved hands, pulled taut by fear and hatred.

No!


The creature snapped to face him. The Warrior started to tremble, the runic ward on his cheek starting to glow under the strain of the Psyker's assault. Frost coated their armour making thick crystals that receded upon the activation of a null-stave. The Warrior dropped to a knee in agony, mind weak from the slave's intrusions.

Upon his throne, sprawled out with exhaustion and holding tight to the daemon-teeth, their leader slammed the stave upon the ground.

“You, slave. Interpret what I have seen.” He did not have time to waste. He was going to get answers this time. Nothing was going to stop him.

The slave pawed at its eyes that had been sealed without so much of a scar and started to laugh with a hoarse voice. “You cannot make me do-”

The leader pressed the stave upon his pet's chest, burning it with the freezing metal. The plaything squealed as his soul was tortured by the presence of the blank spirits contained inside the stave. “You are going to listen. You are my slave. You will do as I command.” the base of the staff was forced into the pet's chest, making his neck become loosely impaled upon the barbs of his collar. “Now, hear my words, lest you suffer eternal death and rebirth.”

It was in the ensuing hours that the two struck a deal. A noble Eldar negotiating with a lowly Mon-keigh. The two faced each other; slave crippled and kneeling, bound by barbs and tormented by his own soul's agony; Eldar standing tall and regal in a beam of light that descended from the holographic moon high above them.

Once all interpretations were made the slave would be free, released back into realspace once more.

The interpretations took another hour. The slave wept blood as he saw the face of the beast hunting his owner and felt the unholy chasm carved into his spirit.

“You are going to die.” The Psyker promised. “But there is a way that you can overcome this fate.”

“Do not keep me waiting.” In truth, their leader felt grim. His soul was on the verge of being dragged into the warp and his mind felt as if it had been shredded to ribbons.

“Bring demise to he that cursed you.”

“Do you think that I am stupid, slave?!” He roared now, backhanding the creature. “I know that I must bring death to the deathless, but nobody will tell me how! Now give me answers or else your eternity of pain will begin sooner than you thought.” He rose up to stand over him and forced the stave down onto malnourished ribs, pushing most of the air out of his lungs.

“K-keep your eyes out!” He wheezed, “for the Overlord seeks you.”

He stepped back away from the creature, looked to the Warriors and gestured for the helm-less Eldar to follow him.

“When we return to the void of realspace you will cast him from an air-lock. Am I understood?” His voice was too week to echo in the dark corridor.

“Is it true what he says, sire? Does Overlord Vect truly seek you?”

He carried on walking purposefully. “I do not know. If he is then I worry what for.” They stopped abruptly as the leader turned to his subordinate: “This curse, this being pursued by deamons, I will put an end to it. Our exile will cease soon. I promise.”

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Lady Malys
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PostSubject: Re: Meeting the Oracle   Tue May 20 2014, 00:31

Good to see more! Very Happy I liked the pace of this section, it covered the action nicely and succinctly without feeling rushed.

Quote :
... Eldar standing tall and regal in a beam of light that descended from the holographic moon high above them.

Someone should draw this!

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