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Scions of the Dark City [Dark Eldar casual RP]

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by Colapse, Jan 4, 2017.

  1. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    Scions of the Dark City

    Dramatis Personae

    (in alphabetic order)

    Aerith, Sybarite Warrior

    Aesra, Dark Eldar Beastmaster

    Ave'ras, Kabalite Warrior

    Drach, Incubi Hierarch, Steward of the Crimson Moon

    Eetlis Oberus, Half-born Kabalite Warrior - KIA

    Eliria, Slave-mistress of Kabal of the Crimson Moon

    Gorthâür Dráuglanath, Mandrake Assassin

    Gorm, Bale-hound, Zar'uil's personal pet

    Heltherith Mertrixa, Trueborn Dark Eldar Wych

    Hetax "Razorhand", Wrack Bounty Hunter - KIA

    Kaesar, Trueborn Incubus

    Kadara, Trueborn Kabalite Warrior

    Kholivaz Scarnax, Dark Eldar Corsair, Former Heliarch

    Kouron, Seneschal of Kabal of the Crimson Moon

    Lyn'shela, "Blood Dawn", Wych Queen of the Crimson Moon

    Saghiar, Lord Helliarch

    Suraina “Surion” Lathellion, Artisan of Armaments

    Venessia, Trueborn Incubus

    Yrara, Haemonoculus

    Zar'uil, Lord Archon of Kabal of the Crimson Moon


    "The scions of the Dark City would never admit that the unceasing hunger at their core is what drives them to such heights of cruelty. Instead, they maintain that they act only upon their own desires. Some have even managed to convince themselves of this. In truth, unless our cousins in the Webway feed upon a constant diet of extreme emotion they will slowly wither away, leaving naught but a soulless husk. We of the Craftworlds deny all such urges, and in doing so become less than ourselves. Perhaps it is those that we left to perish are the lucky ones." Spiritseer Iyanna Arienal, Meditations.

    "Such malice! Such decadence! Such pure and unrefined hatred! If the old stories are true and they indeed ruled the galaxy in the ancient times, then I can only thank the God-Emperor I wasn't there to witness it!" attributed to Inquisitor Gotard, executed for heresy.​

    Ah, but what is power if you cannot force it upon others? What is beauty if everyone cannot fall on their knees by just looking at you? What is strength if you cannot crush your opponents with a mere twitch of your fingers? And what is fear if there is no one below you to cover in despair?

    Perhaps, in our quest of understanding everything we ventured too far and traveled upon shores rarely visited before, but could you even call yourself an explorer if you haven't actually explored everything the universe set before you? To know everything, one must see the both sides of the coin, as both the ancient philosophers interested in metaphysics called the principle "How above, so below", the same mantra others who think themselves illuminated use even in this time of decline. Or as a simpler mind would put it - both the light and the darkness. Too bad we, once crossing the borders of that "proverbial" darkness, never managed to find our way back.

    But I digress! And what's worse, in my words one might think that I don't like the current state of affairs! Quite the contrary! Like any member of the one true race, the new state of the galaxy, arguably painted in less amount of color we would like, is actually splendid! While the lesser races scrabble around the edges and throw their meaningless lives in searching for a higher cause or, what's even funnier, serving one, we are left to do our bidding. Our society thrives, the rule that the strongest survives still stands, the one who dares wins and all of that is still present, if not even increased tenfold! Our fair city is growing ever slightly and there's plenty of chance for a young entrepreneur with a healthy mix of intelligence and audacity to make a name for himself - or die badly. Just the way it was always supposed to be.

    One such daring individual is a Dark Eldar named Zar'uil. A being of ancient malice - like all of us after all - recently returned to the Dark City and did what a man who has many secrets often do. Finds himself a fortress and hides inside of it! The fortress in question was located somewhere in the middle tier, on a plateau called "Nether Gale", a vast expanse of various smaller fortresses close to the entrance into lower Commorragh. It used to be a mighty structure for the Kabal that once called it home could trace its lineage back to the old times without She Who Thirsts, but alas the Great Tyrant, during his infamous purges, saw to it that the place was shacked and its inhabitants put to sword.

    Being not much than a ruin for many years, its only occupants being members of some lowly Kabals, drug addicts or a wandering ur-ghul or two, it was not big of an issue for the arriving Zar'uil and his men to clear the place and put the flags of their new Kabal on top of the walls, claiming the territory for the Crimson Moon.

    That was one year ago. After consolidating his rule within the Kabal, finishing the repairs on the fortress and finding a number of servants, Archon's appetite grew and his eyes were set on more than just one small piece of territory. The old Kabal owned much more than just this one fortress, in fact this entire plateau was under singular rule and Zar'uil was damned if his new organization wouldn't surpass the exploits of the old ones, starting with some "domestic expanding".

    Because of that and because of the needs every ultimate predator (or the man hoping to become one) had, the plans for conquest were set in motion and the search for personnel that would be conducting that conquest began as well. Invites were sent far and wide across the tier of a new Kabal of the Crimson Moon looking for able warriors and servants for hire. The newcomers were promised protection and chance to advance, as well as payment for their service, but for all else, they would have to come in person. Not much to start with, but the Kabal's position in the tiers as well as a possibility to up the stakes one had, not to mention perhaps even a chance for "self promotion", would probably be enough for a number of souls to come and see what was this all about.

    Of course, besides this more public announcement, couple of invites were sent in a more private matter to a trio of individuals Lord of the Crimson Moon particularly wanted to employ. A promising bladesmith that goes by the nickname "Surion", a strange and somewhat unique in these parts Mandrake Assassin and a local enthusiastic Haemonoculus called Yrara. These people had their invites before coming which would surely provide them with a bit of additional security, or at least they wouldn't be shot on sight by a trigger-happy defenders of the Kabal. Or perhaps all of that was just an elaborate trap? Only one way to find out.

    If such newcomer would actually deem worthy of his time to check this out, after he arrived in Nether Gale he would find the fortress of the Crimson Moon standing right in the center of the place, a great spire surrounded with huge walls and many hidden buildings hiding behind them, with the flags on which a silver circle on dark red background flying proudly from the battlements.

    In front of the gates, which were open for this particular occasion, stood five figures. Four were Kabalites armed with splinter weaponry, their armor of similar shade of dark red like on the flags above while the fifth one was a tall warrior armed in half-segmented crimson armor with a silver kheitan below it. His long black hair was tied in a topknot and his face betrayed his old age and even older hatred, which he carried with himself proudly. In his hands he held a great halberd, the style and the type of the weapon as if dropping from some ancient tale, although that fact didn't seem to trouble this warrior in the slightest.

    He stood patiently, looking outwards on the wide vista in front of him, interested in seeing if there would be any who would be brave or stupid enough to come within the range of wall's guns and ask him about the message concerning employment...

    OOC player reminders:

    Mission #1 characters:
    Mission #1 briefing:

    Mission #2 characters:
    Mission #2 briefing:

    Mission #3 characters:
    Mission #3 briefing:

    Mission #4 briefing:
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  2. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member


    Upon a derelict tower some distance from Nether Gale, there protrudes a row of half-ruined gargoyles, wreathed in perpetual shadow by their surrounds. Atop one such gargoyle, a figure perches, embraced and protected by the darkness like kin, or a lover. Eyes like windows into the void regard the tableau of Nether Gale intently, while a mind equally black and alien processes the information in its entirety, barely giving the lord and his retinue at the gates a second glance.

    After all, the obvious is only important with reference to what it obscures. He has already done his homework on the Red Lord - a figure of some repute, apparently. Rich in years, replete with battle honours, old in cunning and malice both.

    In all, not so uncommon in the Dark City. After all, it took drive, prowess and ruthlessness in spades simply to survive here. Yet, that this man had been gone for years beyond count a-corsair warranted respect...and curiosity. It was difficult simply surviving for that long outside the Webway. Even moreso living a life of apparently unrelenting violence.

    That he was also old even by the standards of Commorragh likewise merited respect and curiosity. Every century, those cruel old ones who could remember the old days of the Dark City grew fewer and fewer, the merciless Darwinian logic of Commorragh punishing their inevitable moments of weakness with final oblivion.

    Levelling a customised splinter rifle at the distant figure in segmented red armour, the figure examines the object of his interest through a powerful scope mounted to a Picatinny rail atop the long arm - a decidedly non-standard addition to an already non-standard weapon. Studying the Red Lord from toe to topknot, he lets the crosshairs hover idly between the cruel eyes for a moment before dismissing the thought with a silent chuckle. Even had he wanted to take the kill-shot, he had no doubt whatsoever that the Archon's armour had unseen defences built in that would defeat the humble payload of his equally humble - if well-made - weapon.

    Besides, he was not here to kill Zar'uil of the Crimson Moon, but to examine the man thoroughly before finalising terms of service with him. Face to face, he certainly had, at the very least, the bearing of a warrior and leader of men, with all of the malice and cruelty one would expect of a true son of Commorragh.

    Almost convinced. Almost. But to learn all there is to know about a man - short of prying open his skull and drinking his soul, that is - one must also examine his dwelling place, consider how he lays it out, how he defends it, where and how he keeps his secrets. One last test, and then the decision will be made.

    Casting the rifle scope across the citadel of the Crimson Moon, the figure examines the curtain wall and its surrounds, picking out the most shadowed path thereto.

    Avoid the obvious. It is the downfall of fools and the bait of the cunning.

    The next-most shadowed way, then.

    If he is half as cunning as they say he is, he will be expecting that one also.

    For all their grisly reputation and undeniable efficacy in the field of shadow war, Commorragh nobility has not lasted this long without formulating countermeasures against the ghastly denizens of Aelindrach. Though psychic powers are, for the most part, lost to the Eladrith Ynneas, they have by no means forgotten their Warp lore. Though the average denizen of the Dark City is hapless against the unnatural powers of the Shadewalkers, the most foresighted - and paranoid - of the high lords are inevitably sure to have at least a few defences to hand. Hex-wards, Warp bubbles, void-partitioners - these and sundry other defences all targeted at the otherworldly nature of his kind, meant to stymie a shadow-skinned assassin that might one day materialise from their ceiling or through the floor to end them in their beds.

    Pick a harder way in, then.

    With that in mind, he scans several of the lesser routes through his scope, at last deciding to travel as close as he can to the curtain wall before picking an ingress to the fortress at random from amongst those routes.

    Melding into the shadows, the Mandrake known to most of Commorragh as Thû makes his leisurely way to the citadel of the Crimson Moon, there to penetrate its interior and learn its master's secrets before making up his mind about the man himself.

    Step by stalking step, he moves seamlessly between the shadows of the waking world and the benighted realm that lurks just beneath its skin, a nightmare away. Sliding like a ghost through solid walls, flowing like the night breeze over difficult terrain, passing through locked doors like a spiteful curse. Never hurrying, always taking his time to observe and deliberate.

    Always watching.

    Always listening.

    Always learning.
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  3. Bossaroo bossaroo Well-Known Member

    One of The mass invites to warriors and servants to join the crimson moon Found the Kabalite at quite the opportune time . His last prize from the raids from his old Kabal had just expired, a damn shame too it was such a wonderful pet. Upon reading the letter he walked over to where he kept his armor . Extracting the plates and the long spikes the metal stained red from use no matter how many times it was washed.

    He always took more enjoyment than he should've when it came to putting on his armour, the plates themselves lightweight but their slight heft comforting and giving a sesnse of security , a sense he knew could be as easily ripped away as the plate ( the muscles underneath the scars on his chest twitching in phantom pains at the memory ) . The Spikes which secured the armor in place sinking into his flesh and afixing the armour , to feel the pain he was dealing was quite exquisite and different feeling entirely . Once he was finished he grabbed the rest of his gear and set out for the fortress .

    When he arrived Ave'ras sighed deeply ,walking up to a gun line wasnt how he hoped his day would go but when the Kabal is nothing but dust on the wind its warriors must move on or lay down and die and he had no plans of dying just yet. He had scoped ahead of him first taking stock of the 4 kabalites and their leader, while worrisome what perturbed him more-so was the array of weaponry crowning the walls, he thought of saying a prayer to the long dead gods before he burst into breif laughter before standing and he began to walk to the fortress his splinter rifle slung on his back before removing his helmet , people as he progressed he raised his hands holding the invite in one held up hand as he approached the gate

    "Greetings one and all , i hear you were searching for warriors with skill and i hurried over" he laughs softly before smiling at the guards . One of the armor seemed familiar , too familiar before a grin crested his face " Aerith ! Glad to see you again !" he gave them a nod hoping his old Kabal mate would lend him a hand
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  4. Saraph Midas Casavay Well-Known Member

    With sure steps and an even surer smile, the bladecrafter approached the ominous fortress.
    Mayhaps she walked with a bit too much swing to her hips. Mayhaps she walked with a bit too much swagger to her step. But Surion was no silly youngling. The invitation grasped in her gauntleted hand, she strut towards this dark spot in the darkness that could be her salvation or her doom. Would it be a trap, then she'd die on her own terms, and Commorragh would lose its greatest artisan. And if it wouldn't...

    Her lips tore open, into a gleaming white grin. Yes. Being an Archon's slave was a state unworthy of her dark radiance. But being an Archon's premier artisan... Surion needed no throne, only for her craftsmanship to be appreciated, and worshipped in glorious battle. To craft arms wielded by kings, instead of mere slaves. The glass womb's refuse was proficient with her own craft's fruit, but beyond the occasional bit of fun a raid provided, she was content to leave the battle to true warriors.

    She flipped her hair out of her face as other Dark Eldar came into view, and, for the last few metres, closed her eyes to prepare for endless agony - or eternal exaltation. It could go either way.

    Another of her kind had already appeared, and too seemed to desire entrance. She scanned him, quickly, for any blades of her make (or splinter weaponry of the Obsidian Rose's, for that matter), but found no purchase from a cursory examination. Thus, he was irrelevant at the moment. And still, she decided to let him finish his words, for any interference would only serve to tarnish the greatness seeping from any word she spoke.

    Eventually, she raised her own voice, and arm.

    Closer to the walls, well within range of guns that could tear her to shreds, she came to a stop, and waved the invitation high. "All of you whose arms bear the split rose mark, rejoice. The baroness of blades has arrived", called out a being of more hubris than a humble Kabalite should ever contain. Swiftly, she stuck the piece of paper-approximation into her belt, and spoke even louder, "My presence was requested, and as it won't do for an artist to keep a patron waiting, your summons have been answered."

    Her hands firmly on her hips, the artisan covered in silver, bladed armour looked at the ramparts, and her grin shrunk into that cocksure smile once more. "It will not do for a patron to keep the commissioned waiting, either. I hope you are aware." Eyes wide shut, Surion remained patient.
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  5. kanila kanila Subordinate

    Perched upon his skyboard Aesra observed the leading approach. Tilting his head quizzically from side to side he watched as the first of the prospects arrived. He waited and watched to see the reactions from those waiting outside, he was ambitious but not a fool. If they were cut down he could relish in their pain and suffering before departing back to the arenas, but if they lived he would know for certain that the announcement was true and he would get to expand his own goals.

    The razorwings chattered and squabbled while he watched the events unfolding. Aesra paid little mind to the ravenous birds as they fought over what looked like a femur freshly stripped of flesh. One of the wretches that failed to stay alive in Commorragh, only the strong and quick survive, and obviously they were neither. With the snap of his fingers the razorwings quieted almost instantly, it seemed that the first of the arrivals was speaking. The show was about to begin, and Aesra had a front row seat....
  6. Wata Wata Arkhona Vanguard

    Kaesar had just been given full Incubus status a few days earlier when the invite reached him. Finally, something to push off boredom. He was aching to get into action again. Soon after he made his way for Crimson Moon fortress. Others seemed to be present already. He walked in confidence with a sly smirk upon his face. He's long ponytail, tied high, of silver white hair swaying with his steps. He stopped next to the kabalite and artisan and crossed his arms, towering over both.
    Once the artisan had finished her bravado, Kaesar's smirk widened. Kaesar near always had a playful smile, some considered it a threat, some an invitation. Mostly he was considered arrogant. He let others keep guessing, kept things interesting. Kaesar did his job nonetheless.
    "Truly, we are blessed to have such skill."
    He said and held his invitation between two fingers for all to see.
    "I was invited."
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  7. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    <Thû> @Draconion

    OOC dammit man, is there a way to write letter "û" on a normal keyboard? :D I can't seem to find it lol

    Like for every Mandrake, shadows were Thû's friend and there were always plenty of them around the Dark City. Moving unseen away from the gates and the increasing crowd in front of them, Thû found his way on top of the wall couple of clicks to the north. There were wards etched upon the walls that prevented his kind, or any other intruder using similar technique, but they were unfinished in certain places, possibly due to this fortress being a ruin not so long ago and repairs conducted afterwards were not complete - or were intentionally done like that?

    In any case, the Assassin scanned the top of the walls, the ramparts bristling with automated turrets, dark lance launchers and other nasty surprises as well as a score of Kabalite warriors patrolling down their length. However none of them seemed to notice the lone Mandrake and he managed to pass this first line of the defense and hop down on one of the buildings leaning onto the wall, by the looks of it it was some sort of a food storage chamber. From its perch Thû was free to look across the interior of the Crimson Moon fortress and gauge his next move.

    There were many buildings inside, some were smaller and probably served as crew quarters or storage areas, some were larger - some of them even being an obvious hangar or two, as well as couple of slave pens, with multitude Kabalites moving around those buildings and through the courtyard. But what mostly caught Thû's attention was the actual spire standing right in the middle of the place. A great baroque tower made of pure obsidian crisscrossed with dark red obviously served as the center of Kabal's power. Couple of gangs of Hellions casually fought around its top floors while a number of guards stood at attention near its entrance, but nothing that he couldn't pass through without being seen. There was also a low-pitched growl that Thû spotted on the wind, coming from somewhere down the ramparts to his right, but nothing he recognized nor that seemed to be directed at him, possibly something that had to do with those newcomers at the gates.

    In any case, he was left to do his thing unmolested and if he wanted, he could definitely try to enter the spire, after all, all the best secrets an Archon had he always held close to his twisted heart.

    <Ave'ras, Surion - Entrance> @bossaroo @Casavay

    Aerith's eyes widened a bit after Ave'ras spoke his name, but despite the obvious flash of recognition crossing his face the other Kabalite turned his look elsewhere, not ushering a single sound. Perhaps Ave'ras' old mate had some even older grudge or he simply chose not to say anything, it mattered little for the halberd-wielding Red Lord didn't let this silent exchange pass without him noticing.

    "This one looks...decent enough," he commented after couple of moments of silent observation and one of the Kabalites (not Aerith) took the invite and handed Ave'ras a holo-slate instead. "Consider yourself lucky," the towering Dracon spoke, "You may enter. Don't get lost though, soon you'll be summoned by the Master of the Crimson Moon and he doesn't like to wait on anything or anyone."

    As for the information on the slate, Ave'ras saw that it contained the simplest bits of info possible concerning layout of the inner fortress (probably a security measure in case an uninvited individual grabs the hold of it), where he could see where the crew quarters, training pits, small pleasure-bar and ordinary stuff like that were located. He was also allowed to enter the fortress and probably await the summons in the courtyard in front of the spire itself or mingle with the rest of the Kabalites.

    Behind him came another person, this one definitely more louder. Four Kabalite warriors raised their splinter rifles, apparently not fond of someone having that sort of a tone with their Dracon however the man himself raised only his eyebrow, making his old face twist in an ugly grin. "Yes...your presence was requested although we are yet to see if you are worthy of your title, baroness," he said and she was handed a similar slate like Ave'ras received before her, with the same bits of info concerning layout of the inner fortress.

    "Enter now, your new Lord will see you shortly," he added and the rest of the Kabalites relaxed a little, letting Surion past the gates alongside Ave'ras. Both of them were allowed to enter the courtyard and what was also interesting is that they weren't under any guard - if you don't count the warriors and defensive systems atop the walls which were also capable of firing inside the fortress as well as outside - so perhaps they were given a bit more freedom in this moment than it was normal. Or perhaps whoever was watching them was interested in seeing if they would perhaps try to do something stupid while waiting?

    Everything was a game in Commorragh however the rules of the game weren't always that clear.
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  8. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    <Aesra, Kaesar> @kanila @Wata

    The third individual that approached the entrance, coming right at it once the Dracon at the gate finished letting the first duo in. The towering Incubus was met with couple of hard stares from the rest of Kabalites but they knew better than to aim their guns at him, because at such close range it was clear who had the upper hand. However this fact didn't seem to trouble the halberd-wielding Lord as he simply stared back at the Incubus, his expression unreadable.

    "We are always on a lookout for promising members of the shrine of Arhra," the man finally spoke and Kaesar received the holo-slate with the bits of info concerning layout of buildings inside the fortress, the same thing others received before him. "We have few Incubi already in service so you will not feel isolated. Now enter and await for your new Lord's summons," and with that, the way in front of Kaesar was open and he was allowed to follow the rest of the newcomers inside and finally enter this place.

    While all of that transpired, way back from his observation point Aesra could see for himself that so far three newcomers came and all of them were given entrance to the fortress itself. The fact that happened and no one was so far shot down could really mean anything but what it could also mean is that those invites were genuine and that this Kabal of the Crimson Moon was indeed hiring.

    Now, how would they exactly act if he personally approaches, the Beastmaster couldn't know, but there was only one way to find that out.
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  9. kanila kanila Subordinate

    It all seemed to easy to him, no trials, no great feats, surely there was more to it than this. Regardless he made his approach the flock stayed close at hand, the bone left in dust like fragments where they had once perched. Keeping his eye on the defenses and warriors at the gate he made his presence known stopping several meters from the 'welcoming' committee. "I am Aesra, I have heard word that you seek members for the Crimson Moon." 3 of the razorwings circled over head as one perched on his left shoulder guard. The mask staring unblinking at the obvious leader of the selection committee.
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  10. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    <Entrance> @kanila

    The guards, as well as some automated turrets on top of the walls, instantly prepared their weapons and began tracking the number of aerial targets, while the Lord at the gates merely nodded, actually looking somewhat satisfied. "It's not everyday one of your kind offers his services to the Crimson Moon," he spoke, his tone close to appreciation, but not quite.

    "Yes, we are accepting new promising members," he added and one of the Kabalites handed Aesra a holo-slate containing small pieces of info concerning layout of the inner fortress, info on couple of general areas and places of interest but nothing more than that - security after all, mattered a lot to every sensible Dark Eldar or his organization.

    "You - as well as your flock - are free to enter the fortress. There, await the summons alongside the rest," halberd-wielding warrior finished and the door opened for Aesra, the gates wide enough for both him (on his skyboard) and his razorwings to fly through and enter the courtyard in front of the central spire.
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