ITS HERE TO CHEW BUBBLE GUN AND NOT GET FINISHED
AND ITS ALL OUTTA GUM
Drow Thel strode down the dull long crowded halls of the Covenant of Sin. The Khornate Eldar was a tall, armoured, feminine figure, distinct but still familiar among sight of the bulky, anarchic traitor Space marines that surrounded her daily. Although her dismel history might have prevented it, Drow still walked with some twisted sense of pride, even among the hateful and jealous stares of the Brethren of Spite's Astates, who cursed her for her position in their band of reavers. Drow took some mild joy in that seething jealousy that infested the hearts of many of her "comrades", but not too much.
All Drow knew was that Cain had called her for something "special". Drow had some doubt it was for another beating, it had been awhile since her last "outburst". Then again, Cain wasn't the kind of creature that could be so easily predicted, his fits of cruelty came at the strangest of times, Drow having found herself beaten within the inch of her life by the Pirate Lord for seemingly nothing, well that's what she believed. Through their time together, Drow had come to know Cain as a perverted, aggressive, greedy, cruel, mildly intelligent but cunning beast. Drow would make him pay, one day. For now, all she had in mind was her own survival. Sometimes, Drow simply wanted to get away from it all, escape the madness and insanity for just a second. She wanted a break.
Marching towards Cain's private chambers, Drow passed a score of the Brethren with Eldar captives. Exodites. She gazed silently over a number of the marauders, and their prizes. Drow had no idea why'd she'd been denied a place in the raid, maybe Cain simply wished to spite her further, such a high profile raid on a target like that would have certainly needed her involvement, unless Cain had found help elsewhere. She knew he possessed a number of allies within the Dark Kin. Drow turned her attention back to captive Exodites. She could see the terror etched into their faces, it has consumed them utterly. Drow had doubts few would survive long. They would be the lucky ones. She was quick to pass, not wanting to delay Cain any further, or to draw the hateful gaze of her former kin.
Finally she came to the massive gates of Cain's chambers. Outside the typical cohort of officers had gathered, their masked stares fell upon Drow's crimson power armour, gazing over at her hatefully. She could feel the anger radiate from them, the burning jealously and spite they found for their superior. They felt no anger for the "comrades" who she had felled, they felt anger for knowing Drow could do the same to them at any moment, and no one would protect them. She'd cull the entire officer core if she knew she succeed without Cain's influence saving them. Cowards like Xaphon and Orion, who were perched in their high nests, saved only by his will. Drow was certain they were kept in place to anger her. She passed through the doors of Cain's office unopposed.
Inside the chamber, the door was flanked by a pair of marble effigies of the Chaos Lord, finely sculpted, far too real for Drow's liking. Moving into the cavernous room, Drow quickly realised it was almost pitch black, bar the far end of the room, where a number of lights cut through the darkness. She could see Cain's distinct silhouette, too large to be hidden by the darkness. His blazing eyes flickered, while occasionally one of the multi-hued lights revealed his face. His voice echoed through the chamber; "Drow" there was a slur, the usual slyness that made up his tone replaced by that of a drunk; "Come over here, the parties just started." She could hear the distinct beat of music as she marched towards the Daemon Prince, occasionally glancing over the trophy covered walls. Tattered banners and weapons were mounted in various places, alongside anything Cain seemed to place value on.
When she reached Cain, Drow wasn't even vaguely surprised. The mighty Daemon Prince, her master, stood awkwardly among a throng of Chaos space marines, while a number of Exodites and other slave girls sat among them. Cain seemed to wobble, clearly intoxicated, he clutched a barrel in one hand, pressing it against his jagged mouth. His flaming gaze was soon on her, Drow stood out like a sore thumb among the Chaos marines and their entertainment; "Drow, it's good to see you finally decided to show up" he spat. A drunk anger was rising in his voice, as if her lateness had wounded his pride. He gestured back to the scantly clad dancers, and the anarchic forms of their audience, who seem far more concentrated on their entertainment than Cain and his beratment of Drow; "It's like pissing in the wind with you lot. I give anything to you lot, and you just throw your shit at each other" he stepped closer to the Eldar, pointing at her with a jagged finger; "But don't worry. Despite you coming late to your own going away party, there's only so much you can fuck up."
Drow pointed a finger back at Cain; "You were the one who sent me on a mission to some inhabited asteroid while you, and almost certainly your bloody Dark Kin friends. Don't try and blame me for your drunken stupidity." The fire in Cain's eyes seemed to burn brighter as he slammed his cloven foot down in front of the former Banshee, the Chaos space marines and dancers scattered as Cain's anger flared; "Don't fucking talk to me like that you loathsome cunt, or I'll beat the shit out of you, again." She backed away, watching as Cain's scowling visage transformed into a vicious smirk; "I'm glad to see your still a coward, now, onto the point. As you correctly said, me and my, what was it again? My Dark Kin friends?" Drow gritted her teeth; "What did you do Cain."
The Daemon Prince chuckled; "Don't worry, we'll get to that shortly. You see, our last adventure on that Maiden World didn't go as well as I hope. You know, the one where you blinded me? Remember that time Drow? Remember when I doused those Exodites in fuel and unleashed the life-eater virus?" Cain's smugness was exceptional. Drow didn't care for her weak kin, but she allowed herself a weak smile at the memory of Cain's cry of agony when she dug her power sword into his eye socket; "So I thought this time, why not bring in some help. I called up a friend, we talked for a bit, and bingo bango, I have a Dark Eldar Kabal fighting alongside me. For an exceptionally small price."
"What did you d-"
"So, the Archon, I think you might know him, I'm certain you two might even have a history, he's a friend of mine in fact. Silinurl Luvt. Lord of the Skewering Feathers. Has a bit of bird thing going for him. All he asked is that he has you, yes you, for himself for a day, in his lovely little Dark City in the webway. And guess what, your leaving in a few hours."
The Khornate Champion fell silent as her mind raced;
"But don't worry. Luvt is an understanding and caring figure, he knows of your fra-"
“Never!” Drow screamed, drawing her Daemon Sword up; “I shall never be his servant. I am shamed enough to be yours already Cain, I shall never endure the burden of being a servant to him” the swords surface bursting into flames. Cain let out a bemused laugh; “Well, if you want another lesson in getting your ass kicked one o one, I'm always happy to oblige” he took up a boxers stance. She ignored the Daemon Princes taunts, leaping forward, striking at his face. Cain grabbed Drow in his clawed grip before she could land her second attack, narrowly avoiding crushing the fallen Banshee in his vice hold.
She struggled in vain, spitting curses in Eldar, making a futile attempt to escape Cain's hold. He moved his head closer to Drow's, admiring the pale visage of the Khornate Eldar with a perverted leer. Drow squirmed in the Daemon Pirates hold, trying to escape his prying gaze, Cain's forked tongue hung from his open maw, while an arid stench filled her nostrils, and made her eyes water. Drow yelped, feeling Cain increase his grip, slowly crushing her inside her own power armour;
“Luvt is happy to receive you in any state. They can work wonders in the Dark City, fixing your broken form will not be an issue for them. For you, well, that's a different story. Yield or you'll be going to Commoragh in a box. Don't worry, Luvt said he just needed your head for what he had in mind.” Drow snarled in frustration, spitting another Eldar curse in Cain's face. The Daemon Prince began to crush her again;
"No, fuck you little cunt! I told you Drow...” her face was turning pale as the Pirate Daemon throttled her like a doll; “I hate it when you speak to me in a language I don't understand. Now, yield!” She barely managed to wheeze out the words; “I-I yield!”
"C-Cain you can't, you don't know w-what they'll do to me-what he'll do to me!" The terror shook Drow, Cain could see it in her face. He loved it; "Fear, so alien, yet you stink of it. Such cowardice must disappoint Khorne. Tell me Drow, how do you manage to fail in everything in such a spectacular fashion?"
Cain drew close to her, holding the Eldar firmly as he spoke; "You are lucky little Drow. Luvt was kind enough to offer that we discuss some ground rules later. I will ensure that, nothing of true harm comes to you, though I don't understand why'd you care. You can't seriously act like you have even the last shreds of dignity left" He was a lying fiend, she knew he meant none of this. Cain could never promise safety from the Archon. He'd do anything to appease his friends. Drow felt him loosen his grip, finally letting her breathe;
"You should be grateful I don't let Luvt do whatever he wants to you. You should be grateful I don't extend your trip by a week. You should grateful I don't let him keep you, but I doubt' you last long. The broken don't have much place there. Have you kept count?"
He dropped her. Drow hit the floor with a thud, spitting out her weak response; "Kept count of what?" "Of how many times I've kicked your ass." Drow ignored him as he wiped the blood from her mouth, so desperate to avoid his gaze. One day, one day he would pay; "Oh it doesn't matter, I know you have." the satisfaction in his voice was acidic. It harmed her wounded pride even further. There was no escape from his bereavement;
"I mean, you've been left with a number of memento's haven't you! The fractures, the internal bleeding, oh and how could I forget" he chuckled at her despair. Drow tried so hard to shield herself from his infernal gaze; "Your arm." Drow was on her knees at this point, seething with hatred; "I can feel it. It's like a cancer isn't it?"
"What is?" She called, her voice was meek, while Cain stood tall with a sense of horrid pride in his breaking of her spirit; "Your rage. It destroys you. All you can do is try and put it out, but you can never really. I was like that once. I fell from my nest in the heavens, but you fell further" he paused; "You see, our difference is, you haven't changed. You cannot change. I found an outlet for my anger, but you? It's all you have. Your one of us, yet you are so afraid to embrace the madness, it is disgusting." Cain turned away from her "Now, go, get out of my sigh and prepare. Luvt will come for you soon, and I don't want to delay him" Drow bowed her head, nodding shakily; "Yes, Cain." Quietly, Drow left the Daemon Princes chamber, limping off out of the room. Cain watching her as she feebly marched away. With her gone something else soon entered the room. A sickly sweet aura, something Cain had become quite familiar with;
She was simply adorable, so angry and gorgeously pathetic. She strode into the chamber like she owned the place, the arrogance on her face simply made him quiver. Cain, one of his most cuddly companions, approached her. Cain was a mountain compared to Drow and Himself and his entire body was a mixture of daemonic armor and accursed astrate flesh, though that didn’t stop him from finding the Spiteful Pirate King attractive. They were speaking, yet he couldn't bring himself to focus on their words. He was bewitched by the Khornate Eldar. She was gorgeous, simply gorgeous. Her mind raced, and shivered with fear and despair.
He continued to hide himself within the corner, his psychic aura suppressed and his body hidden by the blackness of his wings within the shadows. She was screaming something about being sent to himself as a fate worse than death. Her soul may belong to that pathetic warp being Khorne and she may never feel She Who Thirst’s touch upon her soul, but he. He could and would show her, atleast what it was like to be in the focus of a being so grossly excessive. Cain was currently holding his gorgeous bride for a day in a death grip. She was squirming in fear, adorable yes but soon enough she would be squirming in pleasure. After watching his soon to be toy leave the chamber, Cain called out to him; “You can reveal yourself now Luvt. Your prize is wallowing in her own self-pity” He slowly glided out of the shadows, his wings fluttering from being stuck in the same position for so long. He skipped up to one of his favorite companions and twirled, letting his cloak and wings flow around him before he stopped to stand before the Daemon Prince. “And how I delight in it”
In a cloud of ash and soot, Luvt appeared in front of his Toy’s chamber. The two Astrates guarding her chambers looked down at him, with contempt and hatred. He removed his helmet from his head, and shook his hair before hooking the headwear onto his waist. He smiled up at the two guards, before waving them away. They would do well to listen to the Lord of Feathers, else they be rewarded with Cain’s fury. He slipped inside the room, not bothering to shut the door. He twirled around in the room, staring at the walls and the various trophies Drow had collected. He turned to gaze at the bed, and in but a second thousands of carnal thoughts between himself and his Angel. Shaking his head, he continued to walk around the room. The countless weapons and trophies around the room were of poor taste. The weapons were all of poor craftsmanship and the trophies all appeared to be branded heavily with symbols to Khorne, just making Luvt want to purge himself psychically.
He finally came upon something quite interesting, a locked chest of Eldar Origin. How he adored these contraptions, they were nearly impossible to open for simple minded creatures. But for a being of Luvt’s age and intellect, it was simply child’s play.
BEGIN COMMENTARY; This is where Goast never saved her draft, and refused to use paste bin out of laziness. Some say this section might be finished within the next lunar cycle, though doubts are held.
Drow hurried back to her room, again passing the cohort of boot-lick, trying to ignore their stares as she limped away. She could taste the blood in her mouth, while she was certain Cain had broken one of her ribs. She wasn't going to go to that bastard Orion for help, she'd rather not have something for Luvt to play on. Fortunately for Drow, most of the traitor marines had passed away from the route to her chamber, allowing her to get to her room un-harassed. Passing into the corridor, Drow was surprised to find that the Chaos space marines that were usually assigned to stand guard by her chamber were missing, while the chamber doors were open ever so slightly. Drow took hold of the Daemon blade, awkwardly trying to maintain a combat stance as she kicked the door open. Her gaze slowly came upon a terrible site. Atop the sheets of her bed, Luvt, his lithe body spread across it and a leering smile upon his face;
Drow roared, trying to leap forward, but the pain in her ribs and the damage to her leg caused Drow to fall forward. With a crash, Drow was flat on her face. She scrambled to her feet, Drow found a shadow had fallen over her. She looked up to find Luvt standing over her, hand extended; "Your not as light on your feet as I remembered. Now, let me kiss it better." Drow grabbed at him, trying to wrap her fingers around his neck, but Luvt was unbelievably fast. He jumped back, kicking Drow in the face with his heel and leaping back on to her bed. As Drow stood up to face the Archon again, he spoke in his enraging mocking sing song tone; "Why, why, why, someone’s in a foul mood. If Cain had told me this, I'd of brought flowers".
Drow had no time for him right now, she just wanted some rest; "Get out whelp, your little game with me doesn't begin for several hours. Leave me to rest and prepare myself, or my 'foul mood' might end up being far worse!" She screamed at him, but Luvt produced a snide laugh, before giving a limp wave as he disappeared in a burst of fire., leaving her alone, in the darkness of her room. Drow quietly ambled over to her bed, before falling on top of it, still fully clad in her heavy plate armour. She didn't care, she just wanted to rest. To try and drive away the thought of Luvt.
Chaper 2 WIPEdit
As Drow awoke, she could feel something on top of her, she opened her eyes to find Luvt face to face with her. Before she could scream, he'd pressed his mouth to hers, though Drow threw him off her without difficulty. Luvt jumped back from the bed, landing elegantly, licked his lips; "Delicious, but yet so unrefined and crude."
Where Drow was slow and sluggish, Luvt possessed an unnatural speed even for their kind, dancing away, and around Drow as she stepped off the bed. Luvt's figure was wiry and lithe. His armour was avian, feathers, talons, hooks and other fetishes adorned it. Luvt obviously enjoy parading himself around as bird of prey. His face possessed unnatural youth and his eyes a deviant glint. At one point in Drow's life, she might have even considered Luvt attractive, but that was long gone. Luvt spoke in his singsong manner, his tone cheerful, but underlined by a viciousness that was beyond comparison;
“Did my bride sleep well? Your dreams are so vivid and colourful my dear Drow. You're such an angel.” Drow gritted her teeth, she had no intention to waste her time with his sardonic flattery; “Filth, I am growing tired of your presence. Leave me be so I can prepare for your game.” Luvt sneered in response; "You're so cute when your angry, but you know that's now how you say my name, come, say it correctly. Lu-vt. See my, dim witted love, it's not hard. Even those ill of mind like you can learn from their mistakes.”
Drow's eyes narrowed; “I don't plan to give you the slightest satisfaction from this scum, you're an animal, a parasite. You exist from a weakness in our species psyche. Just bloody leave me be.” Luvt looked at Drow, his face portrayed the his feelings of wanton desire; “You'll be giving me much satisfaction Drow, I wonder how you'll look without that filthy brass mess upon you, I'd love to see what your hiding under there." His perverse tone, his leering expression, everything about Luvt made Drow angry. She just wanted him gone; “It's such a shame you're bound to a pathetic being like Khorne, but I know it cannot be changed. Your not the sharpest blade in the armour, are you Drow? How does it feel to be bound to the most pitiful of warp entities? To be used for amusement by a drunk.” Drow went to draw her sword, but found it missing, she looked back to Luvt who gave a confused expression; "Looking for something?"
Drow looked at him in a panic; “Where is it? Where is it!?” She was pitiful; “Where is what, Drow?” he cocked his head with a childish grin, perched atop her bed; “You'll need to be more descriptive than that silly! Oh dear, your only flaw is your intellect, but I love you for your stupidity. It's a fine wine that doesn't age. Drow continued staring Luvt down, she wanted to gouge out his eyes and rip out his tongue, but she knew threats would not help her. "The Sword. Give it back.”
Luvt gave another bemused look; “But beloved, you have so many. Which one?” he said as he stretched his form across the bed, arms crossed, with that smug smile across his face that she had come to hate so much. Drow sighed as she extended her hand towards him, trying to create a threatening stance despite the pain from her broken rib; “My Daemon Sword, return it now, or-” he interrupted her;
“Or what? What will you do my half-wit bride. So slow, so sluggish, no charm. You've let Cain's mon-keigh rub off on you, but even in their primitive state they posses something that you can't. Will" his voice became a sly whisper as the infuriated Drow staggered towards him; "But that doesn't matter, what does is that you are mine.”
Drow leapt at him, jumping atop the bed and forcing the Archon's head against the wall, her grip firmly secured on his neck; “I've not even got my clothes off and you're still wearing your armour. Kinky.” Drow hissed, lashing out again and hitting his head against the wall. Luvt giggled in response, a trickle of blood ran down from his nose; “No elegance, no charm. You fail in even the basics of the arts of pain. You replicate your masters style, Cain's quite good at punishing you isn't he?”
The fallen Banshee roared and pushed her head against his; "Another word and you're going back to Commorragh piece by piece”. Luvt smiled in bleak delight; "So amateur and unrefined, I'm falling asleep already your so exceptionally boring" he produced a mock yawn; "But, don't worry. We can certainly improve your ability while we are together, even if you don't want too, I'd love to maybe even practice on your flesh" Drow bared her teeth, growling in barely repressed rage; "I will kill you if you touch me." Luvt shook his head in response; "Cain made it quite clear I could keep you for longer if you misbehave. You'd be best to do as I say and behave yourself, or our trip could last for sometime, and what a time it will be. Do you understand?"
She loosened her grip, Luvt sliding free; "Just give me my sword” Drow spat, the Dark Eldar just smirked; "So rude, forgetting how to ask for something properly, but I'll teach you them again my incompetent bride. Now, repeat after me. 'Oh beloved master Luvt, champion of flight, greatest assassin and most impressive artist of the Dark City, please return my primitive Mon'keigh Daemon blade to me, his bride to be'."
“You cannot be serious...” Drow could almost upset and anger in Luvt's features, but it faded swiftly; "I do not jest Drow. Do you not want your sword back? Swallow your pride, you'll have to swallow a lot more than that too, and say it, or I'll keep it for myself! For such an insult, you must bow when you do it.”
Drow clenched her fists. And whispered to herself; “It's just one day. One day, just one day” as she stepped off her bed and bowed before Luvt, who grinned in utter delight as Drow did so; “Oh beloved master Luvt, champion of flight, greatest assassin and most impressive artist of the Dark City, please return my primitive Mon'keigh Daemon blade to me, his bride to be.”
Drow closed her eyes, and opened them to see the accursed daemon weapon before her, while Luvt was basking in his own delight; “See my love, it's not hard. I'll have you perfect by the end of our trip, I know I will" He said as Drow sheathed the Daemon sword, she spat a half defiant insult back at the Dark Eldar; "I am not as weak as you or your degraded kin. Your pitiful society of excess is below me, and any Chosen of Khorne." Luvt scoffed at her statement; "Oh Drow, the irony in calling me weak after our little jaunt earlier is too much to bare. Your so stupid darling, so amazingly ignorant. You come off as the dullest, most empty headed creature I might have come across. It's one of the reasons I love you, but I'd rather you could actually hold your end in a conversation for once."
Drow was silent for a few seconds, before speaking up, albeit in a pitiful manner; “I hate you Luvt, with every fiber of my being do I hate you.” Luvt grinned at the defeated Drow; “I love you. Your so delightfully cute when your angry.”
She scowled at Luvt as the Dark Eldar skipped around her. Drow hated him so much. Every single aspect of him was pathetic, despicable, weak. What she would give to wrap her hands around his throat, to hear him squeal and whelp as she snapped his neck. It was a thought that made her smile. Drow looked back to Luvt, who was still pacing and inspecting the room, the Scourge looked back to her for a second;
“So darling, what will you be wearing on our trip? I could find little in your wardrobe, apart from some lovely silken robes” Drow gestured to her archaic power armour; “I'll be wearing this. I don't have anything else.” Luvt's reaction was a mix of pity and disgust, but was quickly replaced by a roguish smirk as Luvt skipped towards her. Drow stood still as the Scourge jumped beside her and produced something seemingly from thin air;
“Worry not my beauty, I have something to replace this brass filth, so that I might adore your bewitching skin...” Drow's glare of contempt could have burned through a star ships hull; “Why can't I wear this?" She pointed back to her power armour; "..other than to state your filthy desires?” He chuckled at her ignorance; “Oh Drow, Drow, Drow, always so stupid, always so ignorant. Tell me, what do you think my kin will think when they see a servant of Chaos in their ’hidden’ city?”
Drow went silent; "That's right, what they'll do to us would be beyond comparison, well probably just you. I'm not stupid enough to get caught, but you my dear? Oh I could do justice through my meek descriptions.” Luvt perched himself on her shoulder, a proud look on his face;"So I think even you can understand why you must change your attire. I'd also love to see what your hiding beneath that primitive mess...” He clawed at the locks and hatches of her armour, trying to pull it off. Drow punched him away, though Luvt was quick to jump back to her side; "Here, my first gift to you" From thin air Luvt produced a bundle of clothes and handed them to her. As Drow got a better look over them she realised that it was some sort of wych suit. She looked back to see him now sitting back her bed, watching her eagerly; “Shy are we? Worry not, I'll be happy to do this for you" he went to remove her armour, though found his arm in Drow's grip; "No." Luvt darted away with an impish grind as Drow began.
He chuckled and moved to sit down on the bed. He watched his lovely Angel began to unlock her armor, piece by piece. First comes the gauntlet, revealing her smooth and UGLY, DISGUSTING, AND HIDEOUS. SHE HAS A METAL LIMB?! DISGUSTING, THIS WOULD NOT DO. Luvt growled softly, baring his fangs for a moment. Drow turned to gaze at him for a second before likewise growling and continuing to undress. He calmed himself, and focused on his Angel revealing her lovely body to him. Her chest-guard dropped to the floor with a heavy thunk, revealing bone white wrappings. He growled with anger, first she had a disgusting metal limb and now she's hiding her body with undergarments? He was beginning to get very angry. On second thought, he was beginning to get very happy.
His lovely angel was bending over at the waist to unlock her boots, even though her lovely behind was covered in the very same wrappings as her chest, he could still appreciate it's curves. After finishing unlocking her armor, he could fully enjoy her figure. Standing at an impressive, and adorable, eight feet and ten inches she easily towered over him. He would have never thought his lovely Angel was this curvy under that brass armor. She was voluptuous and pale. Her pale and supple skin made his black heart pound in his chest, while her fiery and crimson hair was just long enough that he could knead his hands into it. It was the perfect length for pulling and tugging. Her long legs looked firm and lithe, but not only that they looked as if they were smooth as silk. Her silk-skinned stomach could make even the most exotic of Wyches jealous. Except for the scars on her face and the mechanical right arm, Drow appeared sweetly delicate to him.
Having been so caught up in being able to see his Angel's unburdened body, he didn't realize she was now fully clothed in the outfit he provided for her. He was very happy to notice that the wrappings were gone, and all that covered her body was the leather and metal he provided for her. Her arms were covered, thankfully as he didn't think he could bare the sight of that horrible limb much longer, but numerous other parts of her body were open to sight. He slowly began approaching her, as she stood awkwardly in front of him. He took in her appearance. He grabbed her by the hand, and in a surprising show of strength threw her onto the bed.
Drow landed with small bounce on the silk bed. She was ready to protest and screech at him until the sight of Luvt on his knees in front of her made her shut up. He lifted one of her long legs and place his lips gently against her heel, before he placed his lips right above her ankle, then on her lower thigh, before finally kissing her visible stomach. He loved this outfit, he truly did. Her feet, her stomach, her thighs, and even a bit of her cleavage was visible. He glanced up to look at her, the shock was visible in her eyes and she was blushing very heavily. He quite liked that color on her face. He began to slowly rub one of his hands on her inner thighs, while his other hand was busying itself with massaging her foot. His wings flared out a bit, and he leaned forward to begin kissing her neck. He let his long serpentine tongue slide out to taste the supple flesh of his Angel of Murder. Upon feeling his disgusting and slimy tongue touch her flesh, Drow shook her head and threw Luvt across the room. His wings flared mid-air, and he landed softly on his feet. He sighed heavily, and blew a kiss at Drow. He pried a moment into her psyche to be greeted with the images of Drow attacking Luvt with her lips harshfully. He pulled his psyche from her own and chuckled, so she did desire in some way. He bowed gracefully, before offering her his hand. "Come my lovely Angel of Murder, we must say our goodbyes to Cain before we depart."
Chapter 3 WIPEdit
Drow swiftly followed Luvt, still flustered and angry after the Archon and her little jaunt. Drow was enraged. Utterly disgusting. Utterly pathetic. The vile little creature had proved his perverse and petty state at the first chance he was given. Drow cursed herself for not beating him back sooner, she cursed herself for even offering Luvt such a chance. Luvt and his vain kin were plagued by the weakness of hedonism. Drow could not, and would never, appreciate or enjoy the acts that had sent her kind into ruin, or reduced them to their current state. She'd survived around it with the Brethren for years, she could do so around the Dark Eldar for a day.
Even Drow’s former kin upon the blighted Craftworlds knew what awaited those who fell into this madness, but the only way to remain truly pure was to be martially pure. To embrace the virtues of combat. To even enjoy the pleasures and weakness of flesh in the smallest fashion, was toxic to the mind and soul of a warrior. She looked to Luvt, who's perversely adoring gaze had never left her. Drow knew what awaited her. A world of debased madness on a scale she could barely comprehend. It was not the place for a warrior like her, Drow belonged here. She looked over herself. Luvt's gift was nothing more than a slave dancers outfit. She already missed her power armour. Drow had grown atatched to her crimson battle plate, it was an impressive thing, as primative as it was. She felt Luvt wrap one of his feathered wings around her exposed back, covering her own wings and holding her tightly against him.
At least it provided her with a bit more covering as Drow with Luvt through the Covenant's steel halls, something to help shield her from the gaze of the Brethren. To be seen so naked by her own troops, Drow hated the thought. She was no harlot or whore, she was no Dark Eldar filth. This was demeaning, it was pathetic. Drow hadn't even left the ship and Luvt had already begun to torment her. But they could barely tell the difference between the different kinds of her kin, they were simple creatures, most lumped the Eldar into one group, others didn't care, though to be compared with a being like Luvt. That kind of insult merited one punishment. Drow knew that they would learn no other way, and that these kinds of dregs were quick to learn when their comrades heads were rolling down the hall on an hourly basis.
She left Luvt lean closer to her, and listened to him whisper; “My love, you seem upset over your beauty, you should be proud of it, I certainly am” her gaze was soon fixated upon the smirking Archon; "Unlike you Luvt, I am not surrounded by boot lick. I am surrounded by trash, as well as my own men. Respect is gained through martial strength. Being dressed as some common whore tarnishes my strength” “Oh I love it when you use my name but Drow...” he wagged a finger; "...you're not common at all, you're quite a special one” while Drow's gaze and mood turned even more sour at his comment.
They arrived outside Cain’s chambers, where a cohort of Champions, Sorcerers, Lords and other favoured bootlick had gathered. Drow could see they were, as always absorbed in their game of power play. She didn’t care for it. Anyone who’d tried to take her position would have to do by force, something Drow doubted this collection of cowards would dare to try. As they began to approach, the gaze of the crowd turned upon them. Drow could hear a distinctive laugh. Kremlin.
The sorcerer stood at the doors to Cain’s chamber. Garbed in the typical sorcerers attire, Kremlin was a typical “old guard” member of the Brethren of Spite. Elitist, smug, weak; “I see our esteemed champion of Khorne continues to venerate her chosen patron is his favourite fashion. Playing courtesan for another of Cain’s clients” the others remained silent, some took a step back. Drow strode closer to Kremlin, her pace slow but steady, hampered by her damaged rib; “So Drow, who are you entertaining today? He seems like quite the gentlemen" She stood over him now, the other Brethren officers had effectively circled them. Kremlin kept talking, while Drow continued to get angrier. Luvt eyed the two in delight.
“Look at you" He was so pleased with himself, so sure of his control of the situation. Drow wouldn’t let that last; “It’s fittin-” Before Kremlin could finish, he was on the ground, Drow atop him. Pulling Kremlin’s force sword from it’s sheath, Drow thrust it into his stomach, before pulling it free and thrusting it into his neck over and over again. Luvt watched with a delighted smile as Drow dug her fingers into the sorcerers shredded throat, Kremlin let out a guttural cry, desperately gasping for air; “Disgusting”
Drow picked herself up, and had another look over Kremlin’s ruined body. Still holding the sorcerers sword, Drow placed her heel on his chest plate and placed the tip of the blade to his throat. Silently, she lopped it off. Drow dropped the sword, onto the floor and walked towards the now open doors of Cain’s chamber. Luvt followed, seeming to following with a delightful grin upon his face, he spoke to the silent officer core; “She’s just magical isn’t she?” before he disappeared after Drow into the blackness of Cain’s chambers.
Cain sat atop his throne, watching as Luvt and Drow marched into his little nexus. He bore a toothy grin and extended his arms; “My honored guest and his lovely companion, how are we?” Cain stood up, towering above both. Luvt got a good look over Drow, now garbed in some Dark Eldar clothing, while Luvt continued to parade around in his own exotic battle plate. Cain wasn’t really one to play dress up, being one with your armour put a mild dent in those kind of plans; “Indeed” spoke the Archon; “So Cain, shall we explain to my honored guest the rules of our little trip? I think our dear Drow should be educated on what will be acceptable, and not acceptable in my kin's realm" Cain nodded in response, before looking to Drow;
“Yes I do believe Drow should be taught how she should act in the Dark City” he stepped before them and summoned up two chairs; “Don’t get too comfortable, you won’t be here long if you listen.’ Drow nodded as she took her seat; “First” spoke Luvt; “No mention of the warp. No mention of Khorne, no mention of the Brethren of Spite, the deal we've made here, Cain, Daemon’s, Daemon Princes, or the fact that I kidnapped you and helped Cain here..." Luvt winked at the Daemon Prince, who gave an amused chuckle; “..turn you (my dear) into the lovely thing you are today. Understand?” Drow, remaining calm, nodded.
“Well spoke Luvt.” She’d have to try and keep a grip on her anger, or just try and keep a grip on invoking Khorne. Next” Luvt said, leaning towards Drow; "You will do everything and anything, I mean *everything* I ask and tell you to do. No questions. Otherwise...” he gestured to Cain who looked down on Drow with bemusement; “Your stay will extend, dramatically.”
With a worried look, Drow spoke up: “What do you mean, by everything? Cain do you realise what they can do and will do to m-” Cain waved a hand; “No questions Drow. None at all. I have been assured by my good friend here that he understands you might be a bit “fragile” in Commorragh. He’ll take good care of you, and understands your limits” the Daemon prince paused; “Of course once he’s found your limits..." The two laughed among each other much to Drow's worry "...anyways, continue Luvt."
“No fighting, unless I say you can. You will do your best to restrain yourself when faced with conflict, but we probably won’t be. I'd rather not be embarrassed by a wayward courtesan, it would be terrible for the both of us" his Luvt's eyes had narrowed, he looked at Drow directly with this half furious, yet sky smirk, before returning to his usual sardonic friendliness
“And finally. You will be known as my Queen. Whether you're in Commoragh for a day, a year, a century, or you come back to visit me at any time, you will be referred to, and refer to yourself as Drow, Queen of Luvt. And furthermore, you are to refer to me as love, or lover. Understand?” Drow sighed, her head hung low; “Yes."
“Good. Let us depart.” Luvt held out a hand to Drow, beckoning to his queen; “Come my bride for the day.” Drow restrained herself as she pushed past him, heading for the door. Cain turned to Luvt, grinning in sadistic glee; “Have your fun, but, make sure she isn’t in too bad a state by the time she returns, I'd rather not end up with damaged goods. She's quality property besides some scratches, unused and new, if you know what I mean”
“Worry not my friend, she is in quite the capable hands. When she returns, she'll be a whole new woman.”
Drow entered the hangar with Luvt. It was a plain site, the same as any of the other hanger bays that the Covenant possessed, except for the massive Dark Eldar ship that hung in the center of the room. Most of the hangar crew made an effort to avoid the gaze of those Eldar who had chosen to guard the vessel, bar the Chaos space marine guards. The Kabalites and Astartes simply stared each other down, through the Dark Eldar instantly jumped to attention the moment Luvs entered the room, who clung to Drow, throwing his wing around her shoulder as he guided her towards the vessel. It was a strange sight, the far smaller Luvt, clinging to the almost amazonian Drow, though both sides seemed to retreat their attention to the two out of fear. The Archon leaned up against Drow, standing on the tips of toes so he could whisper into her ear; “We’re going have SO much fun together you and I, so much fun.”
Luvt’s troops wore a similar armour to his own, though nowhere near as “exotic”. They were lean, tall warriors, their armour serrated, elegant and slim fitting. Drow had not seen much of her Webway dwelling Cousins before her corruption, nor had she actually fought them until her encounter with Luvt that fateful day. Before then, as an Banshee, she’d watched as the seers made deals with them, and watched as they ferried information considered important to the Dark City. Neither side was truly enemies, but rivalries existed. She'd heard of the terrible things they'd done, outstripping any atrocity the Brethren of Spite had committed, which became a feeble gesture when compared with the activities of the Dark Eldar.
She boarded the ship with Luvt. It was lavishly decorated, marked by all manner of strange trophies, fetishes and trinkets. Drow knew their ships were not designed to just be combat efficient, but fierce looking, blade shaped raider craft fitting of the Dark Eldar's love of speed. It was all so alien to her, she'd grown so used to the confines of Imperial vessels in her time with the Brethren of Spite. Luvt walked with her, watching Drow as she studied the vessel; “A quaint ship is it not? Do not worry if it is not appealing to your tastes, this is naught but a shuttle to ferry us to my real transport, and a fraction of what you will experience. Come my Queen, our court awaits." He took her by the hand, and Drow followed, she’d rather not extend her stay for too long. Luvt was quick to bring her to the bridge of the slender vessel. The room hosted a number of Dark Eldar working away at their stations, occasionally glancing across the room to look over the newly arrived Drow, though not daring to look to Luvt.
Drow could hear a wailing from the roof of the chamber, looking up to see a number of metal cages hanging overhead. Feeble skinless figures writhed within, occasionally dripping blood down onto the grated floor below. As Drow looked closer, she could see a number of winged figures near to the cages. They were wiry creatures, bearing wings, with talons. Their movements had a feral feel to them, Drow watching as they rattled the cages in a frenzy, or stabbed the captives within with vicious looking blades and knives. Drow eyed Luvt, who seemed amused by his kin's efforts, the two watching as a pair of Scourges worked upon the same captive, both attempting to draw out the creatures suffering for as long as possible. He seemed more amused by the gesture that anything, Luvt put his hand on her wing, running his hand along the surface; "They try so hard to impress me, but after awhile, like all things, it starts to dull."
Drow was still concentrating on the two Scourges, watching as they picked apart sinew and muscle as Luvt spoke; "Such an empty display, is not suited to my tastes. I seek some of the finer things myself. The torture of the flesh is enjoyable, but the mind and soul, are much more fragile things. When you can break down someone in a mewling mess, without even the effort of placing a finger upon them, then you are the master. Wouldn't you agree?" "I have no enjoyment of your debased acts, Luvt. I do not care for them even in the slightest." Luvt's smiled warmly; "You deceive yourself. You love war, you love pain, you love to murder and kill. You are a product of it, a child of conflict that cannot live without it. Such a quaint little addiction, would you agree?"
She could barely contain herself, fuming at the Dark Eldar's comments; "Cur, you best tread carefully Luvt, or I wil-" Luvt's delighted giggling interrupted Drow; "'Tread carefully.' My my Drow, your threats become more arrogant and delusional every time. Even now you prove my point. You just want to leap onto me, don't you? To grab onto me firmly, to gouge out my eyes, rip off my limbs, but yet you cannot. You are so pitiful in every fashion. You couldn't even touch me with your Daemon Sword, what can you do now?"
Her silence was golden to Luvt, with Drow left scowling viciously at the Archon; "I'll wring your neck, rodent." Her voice was like a serpents hiss, leaving Luvt smiling with a strange joy; "There it is, that spark of spirit, that spark of the true Eldar spirit that has been so sullied by the primitives." He placed his hand on her right arm, running his fingers across her exposed pale muscular flesh. Drow felt slightly dazed by the Archon's touch, tired. He went to her other arm, his movements slow, taking his time, until he came to the metal limb, covered only by the black glove. He bore his teeth, pressing his fingers down, driving holes in the fabric; "Yet this abomination, it mocks me. Such a monstrous thing, a crime against beauty, against passion, against me!" Luvt shouted, drawing Drow back into the present, while Luvt cupped her face; "Dare I possessed the means at this moment, I would tear the tumour free and replace it with true Eldar flesh and blood, yet I cannot, but I know one who can." She pulled away from him, Luvt's deathly glare returning to his usual smirk; "Ah, I have been a rude host. What is a queen without her court?" Drow watched as a trio of Dark Eldar emerged from behind Luvt, clad in heavy serrated armour, and carried long, two handed blades. He took Drow's hand, guiding her out of the bridge, with the sharply clad Dark Eldar following.
Drow was led into what she could only call a courtroom. It was a large chamber, and was filled with a variety of Dark Eldar, who's attention was swiftly set upon Luvt and his companion. The Archon kept close to Drow, while the Incubi bodyguard gazed over the assembled Dark Eldar, keen eyed for any sort of trouble that might erupt. Drow saw the same sort of crowd that Cain gathered around himself in Luvt's host. A mix of bounty hunters, finely clad warriors, prostitutes, Scourges, beast handlers and mercenaries, the same collection of scum and trash that she was certain were keen to follow any whim that Luvt might have. Any near to the edge of the group bowed or made other gestures of respect, they all seemed to avoid laying eyes upon her, despite the fact she towered over Luvt, and stood at the same height of the armoured guard. Occasionally one of the winged figures moved to Luvt, speaking with him for but a few seconds before melting back into the crowd, until they reached his throne. Before taking his seat, he spoke; "I bid you a welcome, my court, and demand you do the same to my Queen" he pointed towards her
A macabre thing, it appeared to be almost alive. The seat carved from ebony coloured bone, behind it, a wing like silhouette made of what Drow could only see as veins and arteries, stretched across the wall behind the throne. They seemed part of it, crimson and red ichor trailing down the surface. A number of multi-coloured, almost daemonic, bird like creatures were perched upon it's surface, spying across the court. While Luvt sat himself down upon the throne, he gestured to Drow to stand beside him. The throne was mounted on an elevated platform, giving Drow and Luvt a clear view of the entire court. She hated the feeling of their eyes upon her, gazing angrily back at the disgusting host.
My dearest brother was returning from that Filthy Mon-Keigh’s pathetic ship with a new passenger. Luvt was draping himself over the girl, who appeared to be a member of this filthy Mon-Keigh warband. Her outfit was familiar to that of a Wyches, yet clearly she wore it not for her own pleasure. He and his Incubi brother moved in around their Lord and his Mistress, walking them through the ship. Following my Lord and Brother I kept my blade and my wits at the ready, I didn’t trust this filthy Chaos Worshiper. I trusted her almost as much as I trusted one of my own, which is to say very little. Finally we arrived at the bridge, where my brother took his throne and began introducing his “Queen” to his court. They were currently fawning over her and complimenting her exotic beauty, clearly trying to impress Luvt. Bah, he despised every last one of these people. Their heads remained on their heads simply because he could not go around slaughtering his brother’s slaves.
When my brother moved, I chose to leave the clutch of Incubi around him to stay close to his “Queen”. If she was injured, or assassinated, Luvt would be quite angry. I spun my blade to signal for the court to move away from the Girl before I stood beside her, my blade ready. She looked up at me, but I chose not to acknowledge it, I simply continued to gaze around searching for danger. My brother was busy talking among his fellow Scourges while his court continued to fawn over his mistress. Clearly the Women was uncomfortable by this attention, but I could care less. I silently moved myself closer to the girl and spoke just loud enough for her alone to hear me.
“Watch thyself Daemonesse, for my blade shall take your skull and gift it to Lord Khaine if you dare attempt to harm my Kin.”
I moved myself away, not even bothering to look at her or listen to whatever response she might have. I turned my gaze to stare at my brother, judging his safety. He was deadly in his own right yes, but I was his protector now and forever. No one would hurt my Lovely Brother. I spoke up, loud enough for my brother to hear.
“My Lord, we are nearly upon your realm as I speak, and just as you requested your Haemonculi await your return and have prepared their tools as you ordered.” My brother laughed and skipped up to his throne before plopping down, and dragging his quest into his lap. He chuckled at her angered expression and pecked her upon the cheek. I stared at her from behind my helm, and I knew she noticed my death gaze upon her. “Are you ready dear? I've got quite the surprise for you!”
Drow's mood sunk even more with the mention of the words “Haemonculi." Whatever he planned to do, Drow had little intention of going along with. She leaned closer to the Archon; "Lu-Lover" She hated saying that word, she hated saying it to please him; “What are you planning, what’s this about a Haemonculus" Luvt smiled back; "Do not worry my queen, we go to meet a professional to deal with the issue I have spotted among your perfect form." He obviously meant the cybernetic limb; "It will be a short visit of course, such a repair will be of minor difficulty." Quietly she nodded in response, still gracelessly standing beside the Archon, still within the judging glare of the court. Gingerly she placed her hand on Luvt's shoulder pad; "How long will it take till we arrive?" Her tone was cautious, Luvt was loving her internal panic; "I'm glad to see your so eager for our little visit, we are already there." Luvt jumped up, taking her hand and leading her down the steps of the throne, she was able to spit out a response as Luvt dragged her down the halls of the ship; "We only just arrived on this vessel, what was the point of taking me to see your pitiful court" Luvt didn't look at Drow as he gave his response; "I adore showing my court my latest toys."
Within a few minutes Luvt had led Drow to a hanger, the Incubi were already there, led by the same figure who had made his threat to her earlier. They stood besides an elaborately decorated Raider, which silently hovered over the floor. The two boarded the vessel, Drow taking her place besides Luvt, grabbing onto him for support as the ships engines blasted into life, firing out of the hanger with ridiculous speed. She struggled to keep her footing, her head spinning as the dagger shaped craft departed from the other Dark Eldar vessel, deposited into an abyss of shadow. There was little light, only the occasional, distant, flickering spark of colour, Drow could barely tell in which direction the Raider was moving. She could hear something however. A distant but constant screaming. It seemed to come from all directions, and grew louder as the Raiders speed increased. She could see the faint outline of something. It was some sort of massive spire, hanging in the air. Across it's surface, smaller structures jutted out, while Drow could spy craft gliding around the fortress.
The Raider eventually entered the structure through a opening in one of the spires, gliding into a pith black chamber. Softly it settled down, allowing Luvt and Drow to step free from the craft. The Incubi remained with the ship, while Drow and the Archon set off.
Luvt had no difficulty in making his way through the chamber while Drow could barely see a thing, they spotted a figure ahead, Luvt gave a small wave while Drow could barely make it out. As they approached, she got a better look. The figure was robbed from the waist down, it’s flesh was scarred, bruised, torn and re-stitched in dozens of places, it bore several long, twisted arms that ended in all manner of apparatus. It’s head was engulfed by a steel cage, and it’s robes were tanned skins, carefully sewn together like a butchers apron. With metal hands it gave a small gesture to Luvt, and spoke in a strange, almost sing song voice of raspy whispers; “Welcome Lord Luvt, esteemed master of the Skewering Feather, my master welcomes you and your guest into his home. He has been expecting you for some time” he extending a hand to the pair; “Come this way”.
Drow and Luvt followed the strange creature deeper into the black spire, and as they did Drow was able to get a better look over the place. It’s wall were a glossy black, lit by the occasional lantern of tanned flesh, or strange creations built from small bones and skinned flesh. It was like Luvt’s great craft, though far more, disgusting. Chains and hooks hung from the roof, sporting grisly trophies and other remains. As they delved deeper into the fortress, Drow spotted new, stranger sights. Creatures much like their guide hid among the dark corners and blackened chambers. Drow could see their scared, burnt and ruined flesh, stitched and re-stitched over and over again.
They were a hideous sight, things barely deserving of life. All bore strange metal helms, others bore exotic weaponry or appendages like jagged blade hands or sword limbs, others had spines that burst from their backs and were riddled with great needles. Not even the foulest of the Brethren’s science divisions creations could compare, Luvt was unfazed entirely. Soon they slowed down, coming before another set of doors, but Drow could instantly tell something was....different. She soon realised the doors were built from hundreds of bones, intricately bound and fixed together to form the gateway. Drow watched as the creature pushed through the gates, and gestured for them to follow.
The Haemonculi stood at the center of the ziggurat chamber, floating above marble slab besides a cadre of his servants, watching as they cut, stabbed and sliced something apart. Drow kept close to Luvt, trying to avoid the faceless stares of the Wrack flesh servants that where gathered in the vast room. They stared over the Archon and Chaos champion intently as they approached their master, Drow looked on as Luvt almost danced up the Haemonculi, who hung in the air. The creature was an ugly thing. It's skull was flesh less, it's jaws split into a strange mandible shape, while tiny fires burned in it's empty eye sockets. Clad in stitched tanned skin robes. and silver rune etched armour that revealed much of the creatures scrawny, withered flesh it hung in the air.
“Tiath, it's been awhile!”
Slowly the Haemonculi turned it's head to look down on look down on Luvt. It's voice was a venomous wheeze; “Luvt, it is good to see you...” it extended a mechanical hand, covered by plates of white porcelain, with razor brass nails; “...I have not had many a guest in this past that has been as interesting as you” it hovered over to Luvt's side stroking one of the Archon's wings; “Oh the things we could do with you Luvt, but alas that is not what you have called me for. Where is the flesh?”
Luvt quickly gestured back to her. Drow felt a small chill in her spine as the Haemonculus approached her, floating gently towards and around her with a small twirl. She could feel it's cold hands upon her skin; “Such an uninteresting thing” it's tone turned sour, hints of anger threaded through it; “Some might considers this, insulting Luvt” Drow felt Tiath take hold of her cybernetic limb; “Yet I see the flaws.” It grabbed hold of her face, rubbing it fingers across her cheeks. For a second the Haemunculus brushed it's bare face against hers; “I can...taste them, they are disgusting, they mar the form and affront the eye. But, but...” it's dread gaze turned to Luvt; “...we can fix this.”
The Archon nodded; “Good.”
"Ah the artist and his muse, but this one, she is different, tell me of her Luvt. I wish to learn of my clay before mould it." Tiath ran his hand along Drow's bare shoulder, feeling her soft flesh with his jagged fingers; "She is my Queen" cooed Luvt; "A corsair from the Craftworlds, a beautiful maiden, no angel of death."
Luvt had moved up besides Drow, trapping her between himself and the Haemonculai. She squirmed, only to be pulled away into his embrace, held tightly in his arms. Luvt had begun to feel around her form, and pressed his head against hers; "Come my queen, show Tiath you skill in language. Describe me in the best fashion you can" Drow was silent for a second, trying to ignore the feeling of Luvt pressing his head against her neck, rubbing himself up against her. Luvt placed his lips against her neck, biting softly against the flesh, and kissing her cheek leaving a bloody mark; "Come Drow, he whispered, tell us."
She swallowed. Right now, all she wished to do was wring Luvt's neck with his own spine, and watch as the flight bound Archon choke softly; "Ah, my Raven. He is a bird of prey in both name and form. Lithe but muscled, pale fleshed, but not ill looking. The ravages of time cannot touch my sweet, he is eternally youthful."
The expression on Luvt's face of pure smug glee bore into Drow's soul; "Even on the spot my beloved Queen can produce such quaint descriptions. Now, Haemonculai, you have work do you not?" Tiath nodded; "Come."
He led the Archon and Drow to a silver table, attached to the floor. It was grated, and a number of drains and grates lay beneath it, stained brown and red. Silently, Tiath pointed to the table; “Lie down on your stomach, so we can begin” she moved to lay down, but Tiath spoke up; “We cannot do this with you dressed, remove your clothing.” Quickly Drow complied, shying away from Luvt's gaze, trying to cover herself to no avail.
The freezing metal of the table stung Drow's back, forcing a small shudder through her form as she laid herself down on it's surface. Luvt and Tiath now loomed over her, the Haemonculi continued to study her flesh, while Luvt leered over it. Drow held still as Tiath grabbed hold of her cybernetic limb, running his fingers over it's metallic surface, feeling over it; "Disgusting" the contempt in his voice for the creation was rising. He drew a large blade from his flesh clock, metal straps snapping round Drow's ankles and free wrist with a vice grip. He raised the blade, and with a swipe her replacement limb was cut free. Drow screamed, shaking in her bonds, looking down on her now stub of a limb;
"That was the first part of the procedure, but we have more to do" the Hameonculi drifted away, while Drow looked up at Luvt with rage and pain filled eyes; "Y-you said I wo-ould not be harmed!" Luvt lent close to her, he gripped firmly onto the table; "I lied. But, it will not last long, Tiath is an excellent craftsmen." Tiath returned, and carried a pistol shapped device. Attactched to it's "barrel" were a number of needles, connected through a mess of tubing and wiring. Silently, Tiath took hold of her shoulder and pressed down the needles into her bloody wound he had made. Drow let loose a scream, grasping her ruined limb, the Banshee watched as blood began to spill from between her fingers; "W-what did you d-do!?"
The Haemonculi seemed unmoved by her shocked reaction; "It is a simple but efficient steroid that will help to regenerate your lost limb. A boring process, I will be truthful." The pain caused Drow to fall onto her back, squirming in pain. Luvt took a firm hold of her arm as Drow's agonized spasms continued, drinking in her pain, a soft smile on his face as Drow's torment continued. Her vision became blurry, and it became difficult for her to think. While Luvt hummed to himself, the Haemonculi watched with some mild interest as the process continued. Drow looked on, watching as bone began to push through the wound. She squirmed in pain, Luvt's hands now on her shoulders as Drow cried out again; "Stop it!" She shouted; "Stop it now!" Luvt was unconcerned, and remained silent as the process continued. She could feel him dig his nails into her shoulders, more blood spilling onto the silver table below.
Chapter 4 WIPEdit
They arrived at Luvt's palace. Drow gazed over the colossal, floating fortress. It could have been a small city in it's own right, hanging in the sky, surrounded by flocks of air borne Scrouges and Dark Eldar jet craft. The construct seemed to eclipse everything else, a massive monument to Luvt's ego in Drow's eyes. Luvt's ship was closing in on the avian city, and Drow could feel the Archon move close to her; “Come my bride, I can tell you will love my home.”
Drow's opinion was further validated as she and Luvt entered the halls of the strange structure. Luvt's art seemed to dominate the place, as well as his love for flight. The place showcased a number of the Dark Eldar anti-gravity technologies, allowing Drow and Luvt to walk up the strange geometry and architecture of the place unhindered. The place was maddening to Drow, fortunately, Luvt was an excellent guide. He would point out every, single, element and aspect of his home.
The palace echoed the rest of the twilight realm. It was sleek but jagged, it's halls, corridors and chambers, filled with a constant, terrible screaming. There was no place that was quiet, there was nowhere to escape the noise. Drow could see how the blood on the floor filled drains that slowly filtered it out into somewhere she would rather not be, while she saw more of Luvt's servants come to buttress his power. They came in all manner of forms, some bearing messages scrawled in blood on parchments of tanned flesh, or spoke them in whispers to a much amused Luvt. She spied more of his “art”. A mix of more “traditional” styles joined sculptures of bone, flesh, sometimes they were alive. A collage of tanned skins from various races, a portrait painted in multicoloured Daemon blood, while prints and sculptures bore the likeness of Luvt himself. Some were obsidian colossi, that towered above and obscured everything else, which were situated alongside leering paintings of Luvt's face, brought to life through an unnatural skill. It all stank of degeneracy.
Eventually, they arrived at Luvt's bedroom, greeted by a number of strange, often disturbingly lifelike sculptures and paintings. The Archon led Drow to the door of his chambers; “For now my bride, I must go, as I have some private matters to attend to. Worry not, my host are most welcoming.” Quickly, before Drow could say a thing, he took his leave. Drow was left, standing alone before his bedroom. Something moved, just out of her line of vision. Quietly it emerged.
The figure was the same Incubus from before. Silently he took position besides Drow. She went to move away, he followed. Drow looked back to him. He remained silent, standing with his blade in front of him, his gaze looked upon her. Finally Drow spoke; “Luvt sent you, didn't he?” The Incubus nodded, remaining in his static pose. She looked over him. From head to toe, the Incubus was clad in finely crafted, brutal war plate. In a way in echoed her own, though far more smooth, streamlined. She'd of much preferred a plate like it, though her “resources” were far too limited. Drow looked on at the Incubus, who's helms emerald eyes seemed to pierce into her. His masks gaze was cold, emotionless almost. A stray from the typical attire of the Dark Eldar.
Daemon filth. She did not belong here. Even as a courtesan, she had no place in his brothers presence. Nought but a Daemonic whore, sent to tempt him away. When dear brothers interest had faded, he would remove her and send her piece by piece back to that animal Cain, but for now he would have to watch over her. She was, for a Daemoness, well disguised as one of their own. The illusion might deceive the foolish, but anyone of intellect could see past it. She was nothing but a transparent vassal of rage.
Dragging Drow into his chambers, he didn’t bother to let his Mistress get a view of his dwellings, she would memorize them soon enough. Pushing her in the direction of a large wraithbone structure, he instructed her to stand upon the pedestal. He removed his helmet, and his gloves, before he noticed that Drow was still dressed. He growled loudly before pushing his hands through his air, he was very impatient when it came to art. Waving his hands, he spoke just loud enough for her to hear. “Undress yourself, I’d prefer to be able to see every detail of your body when I sculpt it.” Not bothering to watch his lady undress, having memorized every detail of her, he continued to pull out his runes for focusing. After Drow had removed her wych suit, he was finally ready to begin sculpting. Turning his gaze to his Mistress, he began softly focusing his energy through the psychic runes to manipulate the wraithbone. The Wraithbone began moving and slithering like a living being, it began to
slowly resemble a humanoid being. Creating a mental picture of Drow’s position in his mind, he continued to detail the sculpture. It was only but a few seconds before the body was finely detailed to look like Drow’s. After that it was a simple measure of sculpting his Love’s face. Having gotten distracted in the middle of sculpting her face, it took just a minute to sculpt her face. He was about ready to tell her to dress herself when he noticed the eyes, the sculpture’s eyes were bloody wrong.
Why was this so bloody difficult? He couldn’t seem to get that rage or fury into the eyes that existed within Drow’s. He screamed in anger and continued to pace, his psychic burning the eyes of the sculpture into blackened orbs. He stopped pacing once he finally noticed the eyes, the charred orbs were perfect. Smiling happily, he clapped and began to place his gauntlets back on. He knew he could do it. Waving for his love to get dressed he spoke. “I hope you didn’t think to stay in my dwellings all day, I’ve got tickets to Lady Xezerpah’s arena show for us”.
Chapter 5 Edit
Before Luvt had dragged her from his chambers, Drow had been able to look over his sculpture of her. For all her hatred that she bore for Luvt, she couldn't deny that the image wasn't perfect. She took some joy in Luvt's failure to stretch out the event, the idea of being so....naked in front of him disturbed her. For a creature of his age and time, he lacked even the most basic form of patience. She felt him tug and pull on her new arm, feeling the newly reformed flesh with his fingers, almost savouring it. He found all new ways to disgust Drow, displaying his hidden strength once more. His lithe figure bore many secrets.
Rushing past the doors of his bedroom, Drow spied the obsessive Incubus, who quickly followed the two but still kept his distance. For once, she was glad that Luvt had been his usual petty self and demanded her to himself, but Drow had something to ask him;
“Luvt, why did you fix my arm?” Luvt smiled; “Oh my ignorant bride, do you think I could have captured your true beauty while it was hidden under the disgusting veil of that filthy Mon-Keigh guise you placed upon yourself? No, no...”
He pulled her closer, they came to a stand still. Luvt was practically hanging on Drow at this point;
“I had to pull the monstrous image they had crafted for you, I had to reveal the true within you. You could even call it” Luvt was clung tightly to Drow at this point, holding onto her intently; “A coming home present, returning you to your true kin, you see Drow, I know what you are. Deep down inside...” now Luvt was tracing his finger across her chest;
“You are one of us, deep down under the guise you have taken, you are a true Eldar.”
Drow forced Luvt off her, but he seemed to fly out of her arms, so light, he leapt like a cat to his feet. “I am nothing like you or your pathetic vermin kind!” Drow roared, slamming her heel down on the cold floor and pointing at him;
“I will never be like you!” Luvt sneered; “Oh Drow, your being so loud, someone might hear you, you might even...” he slithered up to her again, and placed his hand on her bare shoulder. Suddenly Drow felt a massive weight upon her; “Have to stay a bit longer so I can teach you how to behave and act in our lovely city, five, six, maybe a hundred years?” Drow tried to hide her anger with Luvt's threat;
“That's right, be a good little girl for me” he ran his fingers through her hair, she shuddered; “Such a lovely thing you are, but now we must move with haste. I have another gift for you.”
The Archon took hold of her hand, and dragged her forwards down the hall. Drow spoke; “Wher-what is this “gift” of yours, Luvt?” As he pulled her forward, he spoke;
"A visit to an esteemed Wych Arena, I wish to see how you react to the beautiful craft of the Wych. The one who will be preforming is quite esteemed, as she has the ability to draw the most delightful of reactions from even the most ugly of creatures.”
Luvt had dragged Drow to another hanger where a Raider awaited. It sat among a host of other vehicles, but the vessel bore a far more elaborate style than the others. It had been lavishly decorated. Incubi stood atop it's deck, and were soon joined by Luvt's brother, who took his place at their head. Drow was led atop the vessel by a smiling Luvt, who held her close as the Raiders engines ignited, and the vessel took off speeding into the skyline of the Dark City. It as part of a macabre host of vessels, that all seemed to stream to one place. Drow peered over the edge of the Raider, and caught a glimpse of the Arena. Another vicious looking building.
Soon the Raider came to a landing pad. Drow spied more Dark Eldar, wyches and courtesans, who greeted Luvt. More boot lick. Little time was wasted, and soon she was led along by Luvt, followed closely by the Incubi. Soon, they emerged into the massed seating of the structure. Drow gazed over the vast host of Dark Eldar that made up the crowd, before being pulled into private seating by Luvt. Pushed down into a steel throne besides the Archon, Drow was given a clear view of the entire arena grounds. Luvt pushed himself next to her; “We will see if you are like me Drow, nothing remains hidden here.”
The crowd grew silent for a moment as a single figure strode proudly out onto the arena's sand floor. She was pale tall, muscular, and like her other Wych kin, wore little. Drow could see the Dark Eldar in the arena fixate their gaze upon her perfect form, even Drow was drawn a little, even if she didn't want to be. All the while, she slowly forgot Luvt's presence.
The Wych carried a pair of silver long swords, and paced barefoot across the sand, raising one of her blades in salute to the crowd. Drow watched intently, looking on as another entered the arena. It was a strange creature, clad in a red carapace and cream exoskeleton. It's face was a mass of teeth, and from it's back sprouted curved funnels, and long spines. It dragged a pair of sword like talons across the sand, and began to trace the Wyches movements. The Dark Eldar woman danced towards the creature, almost twice her height, and threw a swipe at it. The blade struck a gap between it's armour. It let out a horrid shriek.
Drow's gaze switched to the crowd for a second, and saw how the Dark Eldar bathed in the creatures agony. She followed the Wych closely as she dodged it's strikes, lopping off the screeching creatures tongue and thrusting her sword into it's eye. Jumping forward, the Wych grabbed one it's horns and leapt onto it's back. The creature quickly fell into the sand. Venom filled, thick soup like blood had begun to seep from it's wounds. The Wych raised her blades again to the applause of the crowd. Even Drow was consumed by it.
Another creature felled, another pain drunk, rapacious applause. Drow was sure she even clapped for her Wych host once. She regretted that. She'd almost forgot Luvt was even there, in fact, it felt like Drow was alone with the Wych. She didn't even notice Luvt's hand on her leg, or how the Archon had pulled her so close to him.
Luvt slowly carassed his lover's thigh for a moment before pulling himself to press against her body. This sadly caused his lovely Warrior Queen to momentarily come out of her trance before he had to mentally seduce her again. Her muscles relaxed, her back curved into his stomach, and she leaned against him. Running his hands hungrily over her body, and even dragging his tongue over her uncovered skin for a sample of what would soon come. He felt the bloodlust in her mind, and he began using his talons to draw shallow cuts on her stomach. His lover reached for his face and began drawing him closer to her. He yelped out at sudden pain he felt in his face, Drow was digging her nails into his cheeks easily drawing blood. She moved her leg over his own before taking her place on his lap.
She began biting and clawing at his face, not caring they were in the eye of countless other Eldar. When he attempted to drag his tongue over her lips he felt her teeth press into the muscle and bleed it, causing him to groan with a pain that was all too close to pleasure. Grinding himself upwards he was about ready to take his prize right then and there when he heard a gasp that was not his Queen's. Turning his gaze to the left stood a slave girl in similar clothes to his queen, but what dragged his attention and his psyche, was her master.
The infamous Lord of the Abyssal Gale was standing before him. Luvt and Elginyrr had met on many occasions, and the two were weary of other. For Luvt the secret that he was a psyker was always ready to spill out, and for Elginyrr his mastery and collection of souls was to remain hidden else he be tortured for all of eternity. Two secrets that they unwillingly shared with each other, and two weapons they hoped they would never have to draw against each other. Elginyrr tilted his armored head towards him before beginning to take his seat next to the Lord of Feathers. The slave girl stood next to her Master silently, a blush on her face.
"An interesting mistress you have yourself, Lord Luvt. If I knew less I would assume she was a Daughter of the Dark City, she certainly looks the part... and acts it"
Luvt chuckled as Drow blushed heavily and took her seat, pivoting her body to angle herself away from the two Archons. Luvt leaned forward, a dark and mocking look in his eyes before he turned to gaze at the slave girl.
"But of course Lord Elginyrr. Though I have heard rumors of some Archons who preferred the company and flesh of Prey, rather then the touch of one of their own."
Even through the helm, Elginyrr's rage was evident. He was however too smart, and polite, to say anything about the mocking blows Luvt threw at him and simply chose to ignore it.
This complex scene, often remarked by English scholars such as Jr Tolken and DMX, is when (to put it in a more Urban Lingo, and I use the word Urban because if I say "Black" I'll be branded a Racist) is when Luvt tries to "Get some of that sweet Eldar pussy". This scene took two months to think up.
Everything she felt was in a daze, as if everything was distant, blurry. Drow's fingers felt wet, she could taste something. It was a sweet taste, she could feel something push against her, hold her close. Her head was swimming. Swiftly, the daze subdued, the dream broke. She found herself, pressed up against Luvt, his tongue was down her throat. She pulled away, almost scampering back as another Dark Eldar, clearly an Archon from his attire came into view with his own servant. Face red, Drow escaped the gaze of the two Dark Eldar, turned away from the two Archons. She was drenched in sweat, a heat in her stomach, her head felt strange, dizzy. She looked at her fingers, tipped in red. Blood. Gingerly, Drow tasted it. Sweet. Luvt's blood. She put her head in her hands, shuddering at the thoughts that were now only just reaching her fully.
He'd forced her to do this. He was a psyker. He'd molested her mind and violated her, coercing her flesh into carnal acts. She put her still red fingers on her temples, trying to escape the ache in her head. Drow could still feel his touch. His taste. His words in her head, the warmth of his flesh. Drow couldn't drive the thoughts of her engaging in such acts away. She'd tasted him. She'd straddled him, sat on his lap, forced herself onto him, biting and clawing at Luvt's face in her madness that he had induced.
And deep down, beneath the shame, the disgust, Drow had enjoyed it. Every moment of it, however few there were she remembered. She savored the thoughts. She wished she didn't, but a part of her wanted more. She had a full idea of what he'd of done. She wanted to throttle him for him, but once again, those forbidden thoughts kept creeping into her mind. Drow didn't know what to do. Her hazy gaze drifted over to Luvt and the other Archon. He was a armour clad figure, his plate finely engraved by runic symbols. Besides him, a girl stood by his side. A human slave, dressed in attire similar to her own. Everything about the girl convayed brokenness to Drow. She could never be like that. She would never be like that.
She practically crawled over to Drow, and as she got closer, the Eldar recognised a symbol upon the woman's face. She was a Sortia. Her face was in places scratched or cut, her hair was snowfall white, but Drow's focus was in her eyes. She stared into the former holy woman, and saw the quiet horror in her. She never stood tall, always hunched in some fashion, and when she stood near to Drow, she practically bowed. She greeted the slave girl in Gothic, the primitive tongue of the human race; "Hello" a faint smile crossed the former Sister; "You can speak in the masters tongue."
Her voice bore the faintest hint of humour, but the ever creeping fear overcame the girl. Drow cocked her head ever so slightly, this time speaking in her own tongue. It was rare, she never got to use it. Her words tumbled out clumsily, as if the knowledge of it had rotted and gained mould in her mind; "You can understand me?" The girl nodded; "The masters arcane ability allows me such a gift, I thank him for it." For a second her gaze strayed to the armoured lord that sat by Drow's own; "He is a kind master."
"Do you fear him?" Drow's tone was blunt. The girls eyes flicked with panic for a moment; "O-of course, my l-lord is a terrifying sight. You would be amazed at what he can do to my kind, and o-others. His process is most a-agonizing." Drow blank expression never changed; "How did he obtain you?" The girls tired and weary demeanour seemed to fade, her eyes brightened almost; "Master gracefully crushed us, destroyed our will and our faith, but he chose me. Me among them all. He took me to be his. So many others, yet he chose me." Drow almost grew angry. The girl was insane; "How can you enjoy this?" The Sister's expression didn't change; "Because it pleases him. I saw you, I saw you and your master engaged in thos-"
"HE" Drow calmed herself, remembering Cain's vicious threat of an extended stay; "He is...my lover, not my master. I am his courtesan. His bride. And what you saw was not of my wil-" "Of course it wasn't" the girl spoke; "I don't see what that matters. You belong to him. His will i-" "I have told you. He is not my master. Keep calling me that girl and I'l-" The girl spoke again. She was almost smug in her tone; "You can do nothing my master cannot top in a fashiom you will never understand. I don't believe even your maste-"
Drow snapped. That word. Not any more. She leapt onto the Sister, fingers rapped around the slave girls neck. She bashed the child's head against the metal floor; "HE" another hit. It drew blood. "IS". Another hit. "NOT". Another. "MY MASTER" Drow raised a clenched fist, but something hit her. Something hard, something not physical. She was thrown from the top of the Sister, crashing onto the metal floor; "You dare?" The armoured Archon marched towards her, Luvt's look was one of a fierce anger. The sister slave girl wrapped herself around his metal leg; "Master" she received a smack to the head. She fell silent. The armoured archon was closing on Drow, before something barred his path. The Incubus. His posture was stern, blade at the ready. Luvt, quickly butted in;
"Oh my bride" he wrapped his arms around Drow, lifting her to her feet; "She is the most excitable". The other Archon seemed unamused; "She" he pointed to Drow; "Needs to pay. Give her to me Luvt." Holding Drow tight, Luvt let out a hollow chuckle; "Come Nuat, such a petty thing would upset you? Your slave here" Luvt gestured to the bleeding, silent Sister; "Is quite replaceable, but my Queen here" he gave the barely conscious Drow a quick kiss; "She is not." Nuat was unmoved, he seemed to fume in rage; "Or have you formed feelings for the prey?"
Beneath his armour, Nuat was almost frothing, but his silent gaze confirmed as much; "Leave." Luvt smirked; "Worry not, I am" still smiling, Luvt carried Drow away, followed by his Incubi guard. Still dizzy, Drow looked up at Luvt; "W-what happened?" "Oh nothing my love, but your fury has bought you another day in my care. I think I have an excellent punishment in mind."
"This? This is my punishment? Fighting?" Luvt did not turn to face Drow as she question him, instead gazing over one of the many weapon cabinets within his cavernous armoury museum; "The punishment will become clear soon. You seem to forget that you are staying with me for a second day, but I can't deny, it was quite lovely to watch you throttle that urchin creature. Nuat would never admit it, but he's quite attached to the prey things, in the same way I am quite attached to you, and she is attached to him in the same way you are with me." Drow spat back at Luvt, the anger rising in her voice; "Don't ever compare us. Ever." The Archon giggled; "Fine, but I love to think of your savagery. It is pure, full of a blood lust. The sight of you beating that girl was nice, but the feeling of you upon me, that was sensational." Her rage spiked. Drow leapt at him, but Luvt side stepped his queen, letting her roll across the floor and onto her hands and feet. She threw a vicious punch, but Luvt caught her arm and spun her round into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Drow's neck. Luvt's touch quieted Drow, who he pushed down so he could speak into her ear, his hands now firmly on her shoulders; "You melt in my hold."
She mumbled out a weak response; "Stop this, you-" now Drow could barely speak, Luvt's concentrated mental might overwhelming her, making a mockery of her shattered psyche; "Ah, there we are" he ran his fingers through her hair, chuckling at Drow' comatose state; "I'll stop once you admit you enjoyed what we did, what you did. It's easy." Drow shook her head, now unable to speak; "Fine" Luvt went; "I'll just make you do it again, and again, and again until you say you enjoyed it" Drow seemed to gain some energy frantically shaking her head. Finally she spat out her answer, Luvt's power lifted from her mind; "By Khorne fine! I enjoyed it, I wanted it! And I hate myself for it, and I hate you even more for forcing me to do it against my will you perverted animal!" Her face was red, and within seconds, Drow was at Luvt's throat, but his smirk remained the entire time; "I've certainly gotten you worked up, your loving this as much as you did earlier."
She smacked his head against a metal cabinet, drawing blood; "You even want to do it now, don't you? I helped you let it out. All your despair, rage, and obliterate your loneliness." He slipped out of her grasp, and with a quick kick Drow was thrown to the floor. She rubbed her head, torn apart inside by her confused internal conflict, while Luvt was unfazed by the entire thing. He reached behind his head, were Drow had cut his flesh, took a drop of blood from his wound, tasting it while Drow stood up. "For now" Luvt spoke; "We have other business to attend to. You remember the Archon from earlier?" Drow nodded; "We'll be helping him take care of some business, specifically in dealing with a rival in a sector of the Dark City, and you will accompany me into battle as one of my Scourges."
"I can't go into battle like this" she gestured to her Wych suit. Luvt shrugged; "Fine, I'll provide you with Ghostplate armour, but worry not my Queen. You have an excellent selection of weapons to chose from. None of that pitiful Mon'keigh trash you often make use off." She nodded, straying over to another mass of weapon racks and cabinets, studying their contents. Within lay a mass of long barrelled, lagged rifles, dark light weaponry and a massive number of swords. Finally she came upon something, a Pistol that vaguely resembled something a Fire Dragon might carry. It wasn't heavy it the slightest, and a flick of the activation rune illuminated it with pale light. Soon after, Drow quietly collected a serrated power sword before following Luvt out of the cavernous armoury.
She was brought to a plain, basic chamber where a hunched creature draped in rags stood in the corner. As they walked in, Luvt pointed to Drow who now stood at the chambers centre. The slave studied Drow for a second, before beginning it's work, Luvt stood by her side; "The process is quite, exhilarating. It can however take awhile." She felt a sharp pain in her leg, and saw that the serrated plate was hooked into her flesh. Quietly the slave worked away, attaching Drow's armour at an agonisingly slow rate. More barbs pierced her flesh, hooking into her skin. The pain was intense, and it seemed that each hook and bard dug deeper into her. She could barely focus on anything else, while Luvt was basking in her torture.
By the time the slave had finished, Drow now had the constant feeling of a cold, sharp blade, penetrating a dozen places in her body. It wasn't hard to move in, far from it, but the sting of the armour never seemed to fade. Luvt was obviously loving this, watching in joy as Drow grimaced in pain. She flexed her wings, finding the plate offered her notable freedom, while it covered most of her flesh, bar her ankles and below. As soon as the process was done, she was dragged from the chamber by Luvt. Apparently, he had a "briefing" to give.
Standing before three hand picked groups of Scourges, Luvt was giving his Servants the "outline" of the battle. They wouldn't join the Abyssal Gale in combat until they reached the Archonesse of the Grotesque Hunt, as she was guarded by countless Wyches and elite members of the ally Kabal, the Lidless Sigil. The Avian Kaballites would use their flight advantage to glide above the battlefield, preventing any method of retreat or reinforcemets arriving. Once they breached the Hunting Grounds of the Grotesque Hunt they would track down the Archonesse and present her to the Elginyrr. They were about to depart when Luvt waved off his troops to go ahead while he stayed back to take care of something else.
Drow thought for a moment she would have to deal with Luvt's attention again when he moved off towards a dark corner and stuck his hand out. A shadow creature of shapeless feastures slide out of the darkness and offered up a bone white envelop to the Scourge Prince. He chuckled after tearing it open and tossed it to the ground, where the shadowy creature devoured every scrape. He waved for Drow to follow him before leaning closer to her.
"One of Elginyrr's servants, quite fiesty little creatures. They are disturbingly similar to the Nightkin, don't you think?"
They departed Luvt's palace, travelling among a fleet of Craft before taking wing as the estate of Nuat came into view. While not as large in scale as the avian Archon's fortress, it was no less impressive, and with the speed Drow was only beginning to grow use to they had landed. Luvt marched along with his Scrouge escort, while Drow appeared to fit in among them. Quietly they came to a poorly lit chamber, where Nuat awaited them. Only Drow and Luvt entered, the rest of the Skewering Feather members waited outside. The still fully armoured Archon looked to his guests; "Welcome to my home, but we will not being here for long. I have a way to enter the Grotesque Hunt's grounds. It will ensure the surprise we need. Our aim is simple, but she is mine" he looked over the winged warriors; "Do you understand? Mine." They nodded.
Nuat returned his attention to whatever he was doing before the two had entered the room, Drow couldn't quite see. There was a crackle of light, the room shook. Drow's head spun, a nausea hit her, like the one at the arena. She opened her eyes. They were now standing among the Grotesque Hunts estate, Nuat with whatever strange power he possessed had brought them here. There was a vicious shriek, Drow turned to see a court of Wyches and Kabalites. Among them, their target stood, she barked a command to them in Dark Tongue, almost certainly to slaughter the attackers.
As Luvt rushed the Kabalites and Nuat ran at the Archonesse, Drow was driven towards the Wyches. They were clad in slim and basic armour, swinging razor flails and swiping at Drow with long jagged swords, but the Champion of Khorne returned in kind. She threw her power sword into the fact of the closest Wych, cleaving it in two before thrusting it's bloody tip into the stomach of another, viciously pulling it free with an uppercut that tore open the Wyches throat. The others threw themselves at Drow, forcing her into flight, but she was quick to re-engage. Drawing her pistol she reduced the upper half of her assailant to nothingness, she turned her attention to the sting of a blade. One of the Dark Eldar had dug her sword into Drow's right wing, but a vicious punch broke the Wyches nose. Dropping her sword and pistol, Drow leapt onto the Wych, grabbing her head. Roaring, Drow drove her thumbs into the Dark Eldar woman’s eyes, leaving the Wych to howl in agony.
Pushed into a frenzy, Drow discarded any sense of control as she jumped at the closest Wych. Her strength and speed combined were a fatal combination, the Khornate Eldar grabbed hold of the Wyches arm and pulled her close. Bearing jagged teeth, Drow tore into her throat. The Wych struggled for a few seconds before falling limp, Drow letting her corpse fall free before she ran at those that remained. In the carnage she'd grabbed hold of a long jagged dagger, now using it to cut and rip into anything that came close. She was coated in blood.
Luvt was slicing through Kaballites with his spear and blade tipped wings left and right. The first Kaballite to approach Luvt got the tip of his spear through his left eye, causing him to stumble backwards onto the blade of his ally. Pushing his convulsing ally onto the floor to die, the second Kaballite moved forward more cautiously. After just a second or two of circling, Luvt lunged forward and planted his spear into the Eldar's stomach. Gripping his spear tightly, Luvt dragged it upwards and around his body to meet full circle the Eldar, cutting him straight in half. Dashing forward, he dragged the bladed tips of his wings against the skin of his rivals gutting and bisecting them.
Planting the tip of his spear into the ground, Luvt vaulted over the head of the next Kaballite. As he passed of his head he dragged the spear around his body vertically to slice through the skull of the Kaballite. Left with two Trueborn Kaballites, Luvt laughed and began waltzing around. Slowly approaching the dancing Archon the Trueborns attacked at the same time. Tossing his spear at the Kaballite, Luvt ducked around the blades to pull the warrior off his feet before slicing his throat in the perfect way to draw out his death. Leaping at his last foe, Luvt began to maim and scracth at him. As he was cutting into his torso and removing his organs, he felt the spear slice through his spine and end his torturing of the Eldar. Flashing back to the present, Luvt turned just in time to see his spear approaching his head. As it passed his head he dragged it downwards to end the life of the Kaballite he planned on torturing. Sighing in displeasure, Luvt turned and burnt the Kaballite's flesh with baleful flames. Turning to pull his lover off the corpses she was currently beating into a pulp, Luvt began watching Nuat'zhiar duel the Archonesse.
Wielding two long blades, with numerous others attached to her armor, the Archonesse was a whirlwind of death as she threw one blow after another at Nuat. The Abyssal Gale Archon was keeping up, but was pressed into the defense as her attacks only gave little opportunity to attack. The duelists moved around the room constantly while sounds of gunfire and explosions rang out from on the other side of the door. Finally Nuat struck out, attempting to knock one of her blades out of her hands. Succedding in knocking her left blade away, Nuat was struck in the side with the other. As blackish blood leaked out, a ghostly image struck out slamming a spectral fist into the Archonesse's face. As she pulled the blade out and darted backwards to stare at her dueling partner with surprised eyes as spectral energy and black blood leaked out of the wound. She picked up her other blade and began twirling them, preparing to go on the offense again. The eyes of Nuat's helm began glowing brightly as he charged at her bringing his blade up to attack. As his blade began it's descent five more spectral blades followed in it's wake. And as the six blades came crashing down they wrenched her weapons away from the female Archon.
Reaching downwards the Archonesse pulled out a dagger and began slashing away at Nuat's armor slicing through it easily, leaving more wounds that leaked both lifeblood and spectral energy. Pulling her blades back up as Nuat retreated for a moment. She was tiring while the Abyssal Gale Archon was simply ignoring any injuries she inflicted. She heard movement to her left as she saw the Lidless Sigil Kaballites began standing up. Their movements were sluggish and slow like a Humans. She noticed green spectral energy dancing around their wounds before she turned back to the Abyssal Gale Archon, his hand was stretched out as if invisible cords were attached to his finger tips that reached out to the corpses of the fallen. They lurched forward, carrying their weapons in dead hands. As they began surrounding her, her dueling partner moved forward as well. Whenever she went to swing against the dead the Spectral Archon would slip through her offense and leave a sizzling wound.
Finally dropping to her knees she looked up as the ghastly warriors approached her. Standing infront of her stood her soon to be murderer. As he approached her with death on his fingertips she shot forward, blade in hand, in an attempt to end his life. A Spectral image appeared between them and dragged it's ghostly blade straight through the flesh and bone of her wrist, severing the hand from the limb. Screaming in agony she looked at the stub as it sizzled with ghastly energy that seemed to feed off the fires of her own soul. Looking for the last time she saw countless ghostly hands reaching for her, but she only felt one cold hand touch her skin. Grasping her neck for just a second, Nuat pulled her soul from her body and passed his hand silently through her body.
As her body trembled and stared blindly ahead Luvt and Drow stared at the Ghostly Lord. Turning to gaze at his allies, for the moment, he turned his black gaze onto Drow. He squeezed the throat of the spectral image of the Archonesse, causing the still living body to shudder in spiritural agony. He continued to grasp the ghost's throat as he began speaking.
"It's by my will, that she lives. It will be by my will she dies. And it is by my will, that you live. But another displeasure as the one you gave to me during the arena. And by my will, you will suffer a fate not even Slaanesh can provide."
He stretched his arms out wide and allowed the spectral image to flow into his armor, briefly revealing his own rotten soul. As the spectre flowed through his body, his armor began to slowly repair itself. Knitting battleplate together, Nuat began walking towards them as the doors shot open. Standing in all black with numerous ghastly images on their armor where Abyssal Gale Kaballites, shouting in pride and triumpth at the situation of their Archon killing the defenseless Archonesse. Taking the head of the Archonesse, Nuat began to walk outwards. Standing before him was a legion of Kaballites, belonging to the Lidless Sigil, the Abyssal Gale, and the Grotesque Hunt. Spreading his arms out wide and laughing coldly, he presented the silently screaming head of the Grotesque Hunt's Archonesse. The Lidless Sigil and the Grotesque Hunt's Kaballites began sulking away, escaping with their lives only by the "mercy' of the Abyssal Gale Archon.
It had not been long since Luvt had take Drow back to his palace. The image of the Archon's soul being torn free and drawn into Nuat's armour. It was like he had, in those moments, made a terrible pact between the three of them, as he re-knit his form with the woman's dying breaths. It was an awfuk way to die, though to kowtow to that trash as well as Luvt, wasn't pleasant. Once again, Drow was dragged back into the slave chamber, where the creature began to undress her, though Luvt dismissed it. She looked on as it scurried away, leaving the two Eldar alone in the darkened chamber. She stood in it's centre, while Luvt was stood behind her. She felt him slowly peel away at her tight fitting ghost plate, grimacing as he pulled free the bards and hooks that held it in place. She didn't resist. There was no point, she'd rather he no do tha-
"Drow, I won't always push you into your true desires" he wrapped himself around her, held tightly against Drow; "I'll only do it when your in the mood" he said with a childish giggle. "Fine then" with a violent shove, Luvt was thrown off of Drow. She was hiwever, still half armoured in the Dark Eldar plate; "I'd love to see you trying to get that armour off without tearing most of your precious flesh free" She ignored him, trying to pry away the serrated plates and barbed hooks despite his words. His face formed a twisted smile as Drow began to falter, the pain of her own actions rocking through her form as the barbs pain took it's toll. Swiftly, Luvt slid up besides her, and continued undressing his queen. Drow made no attempt to resist him.
His work was slow, but Luvt was able to do the job far better than herself, though he seemed to have some slight restraint as he removed the armour. Luvt seemed to work with a slight care, though he clearly enjoyed every pained moan or groan Drow made, he was obviously careful not to cause any noticeable damage to her. She'd lost track of the time that had passed, and she was slightly dazed from the entire experience. She stumbled at first, caught by Luvt, who helped Drow to her feet. She mumbled a thanks to the much satisfied Archon, who led the tired Eldar woman out of the room, whispering that he had something exciting to show her. Drow followed him back through the palace halls, she could hear more screaming, a massed chorus, it was getting louder and louder. A mass of pained howls greeted the two as they passed into a living nightmare. The ground was red with blood, staining thick fields of grass, while the sky was black. There were enough Scourges to blot out the light, leaving the place enshrouded in shadow; "Behold, my pain gardens."
As with everything else Luvt owned, the "Garden" was a grandiose thing. Vicious looking alien plants, with jagged teeth that jutted from malformed maws, were nestled among razor sharp bushes. The grass was coated in a thin lair of dry blood, a fresh red colour, while any of the flowers were large, multi-hued and almost certainly venomous. Some occasionally spat out clouds of spores, while long, sickly green vines chocked other fauna or constricted a number of limp, pale cadavers. Luvt and Drow trod on a simple stone path, which zig-zagged through the garden, allowing for an excellent view of the place. They stopped for a moment, watching as a pale thing crawled towards them both. It's flesh was marked with long, deep cuts, while blood trailed from it's mouth and eyes. It reached out to Luvt, feebly trying to escape a long tendril that had embedded itself in the creatures leg; "Lord of Ravens, I beg of you to forgive my actions, I had no position to critique yo-" the Eldar let out another vicious scream of agony as the vine dug deeper. Luvt seemed almost amused; "Oh but it is too late for that critic, your feeble attempt to attack me through my work..." he cocked his head, pulling the slowly dying man closer; "...has failed, like how your body fails you now." Drow watched as Luvt studied the dying things features; "So flawed yourself, tell me, who were you critique my pieces?" Luvt had began to dig his fingers into the Eldar's skull, while the vine continued to pull at the mans leg;
"I asked you a question!" With a snarl Luvt pulled at the mans face. Drow could hear the distinct sound of cracking bones, and tearing flesh. The little, pale figure was slowly being torn in two by Luvt and the plant; "Who did you believe you were to act that you could ever even think to dare question my artistic ability? To attack my skill" Luvt dug his nails into the mans face, leaving deep gouges in the flesh, blood and viscera were now coating the ground, innards were spilling free. Luvt seemed to grow bored, letting go of the Eldar's skull, letting it drop to the ground. With a fierce kick, he'd gouged out the first of the Eldar's eyes, a second blinded him completely; "I'd love to know what you think of my latest piece. I call it, 'The Ruination of the Asinine'". Drow and Luvt turned away from the living corpse, there was a shouting, a great chant that was coming from the opposite end of the garden. Luvt's eyes held an almost feral look to them, as his far more sensitive ears picked up the exact words of the chant before Drow's did.
"DOWN... DOWN WITH THE LORD OF FEATHERS!"
Luvt took three long paces away from Drow before he leaned sadly against one of his carnvorious plants. Drow looked up as light began filling the air, the scourges had vanished long ago, Luvt himself didn't seem shocked by this. Drow wondered if it was by his doing they left, or someone elses. The chanting grew louder as a legion of Kaballites came walking into view. They were all shouting and screaming the same phrase over and over before they stopped, and one of them stepped forward. Dressed in regal armor similar to that of an Archon, the Kaballite began spewing out that Luvt's time was over, and that the Host of Feathers was finally going to fall. Luvt stood there shaking, he swiftly turned around and took a single stride towards the legion. His wings began to slowly unfurl before the screaming began. In an instant Drow's vision flashed before it went black.
It was hours later that she awoke. The bloody grass was gone, replaced with burnt dirt. The plants were all ash and molten piles of slag. The numerous traitors were all ashen statues in various poses of agony and fear. She heard the distinct sound of gurgling before she turned her shaky vision onto Luvt. His body was covered in vicious crimson flames that licked at the ground around him. Floating just a foot away from him was the shattered body of the Traitor Dracon. His body was crumpled and broken, but alive. His skin was boiling from the heat, and slowly peeling off in bloody layers as Luvt's psychic might cut him like a surgical blade. Luvt's hand shot out to the right, and in an instant all the flesh removed itself from the Traitor's body. She stood up slowly, keeping her distance from the flames as they slowly but surely died out.
With care Drow advanced towards Luvt, her movements careful, a fear had stirred in Drow as she gazed over the site of Luvt's fierce storm of rage. It was an impressive thing, something even she could respect in a way. The purity of the hate and anger that burned within him, if only it was channeled in a way that was not so, degenrate. Drow could see he still burned with sapphire flames, while Luvt seemed almost docile, foucssed upon the traitors ruined form. Swiftly he turned to her, and almost leaped on top of Drow, grabbing her arms and pushing his head against hers; "I'm going to show you something Drow. Something I don't show many, but I know you'll like it. Even if you don't, you still enjoy what will come next." Still dazed from the witch fire blast, the Khornate Eldar could do nothing as her mind was dragged into his.
When Drow opened her eyes again, she was still in Luvt's hold. The pair stood silently beside each other for sometime, among Luvt's mental prohection. It resembled his palace but much more, fierce, grand, greater. It stretched on as far as she could see, Drow doubted it ended. Her words tumbled out, she could barley think, her head was spinning; "Where have you taken me?" Her tone sharpened, ignoring or not realising Luvt and herself where inches apart; "Where are we Luvt?" A smirk formed as he pressed his head against hers; "A domain of my choosing, heaven or hell, you may call it as you wish. Everything you see was created through my thoughts, my will. Your one of a special few to see it. The last guest I brought here met an unfortunate end, but that's not why you're here. We've both been wantng to do something for a long time..." before she could raise her voice, Luvt had pushed himself against Drow, forcing his lips against her. Drow pushed him off her, stumbling back before falling onto a large bed, though Luvt had already leapt back on top of her, pinning Drow against the bed;
"We can ether do this the easy way, the way I think you much rather enjoy or... well, your quite aware of what I'll do. So, are you going to play nice?" She stared back at him, a rage barely contained had built within Drow, and it's burned into a smirking Luvt. She could see the absolute delight in his sharp, alabaster features, but she refused to be his mental puppet. Drow nodded slowly in response, whispering a reply; "Just... Please just be quick..."
Luvt cackled madly, amused by the fact she thought he would abide by any request of that nature. His long serpent like tongue slithered from his mouth and he dragged it across Drow's face leaving a long shallow cut from the barbs on it. He slid his talons into Drow's mouth, yanking on her jaw to make her open her mouth, his claws slicing through her gums even without any true pressure. His long barbed tongue slide in her open mouth, wrapping itself around her own wet muscle in a playful fight for dominance. Removing his claws from her mouth, Luvt contents himself in slicing through Drow's sides with the deadly talons, enjoying the pained moans she released everytime he left a deep slice. He pulled away, his tongue slowly sliding out of her mouth and back into his, she was coughing from a lack of oxygen and everytime she opened her mouth more blood slid out of her mouth.
He back handed her across the face before yanking her by the hair and throwing her to her knees. He laughed cruely as her face grimaced in pain and he slapped her again, making sure to drag his talons across her pretty face. He began to quickly deliver one heavy blow after another onto Drow's face, not even holding back by slapping her but simply punching her repeatedly. He moved to remove one of the lower segments of his armor before dragging his whore onto her knees. He growled lowly before yanking harshly on her bloody red hair again.
"Get to work whore, or I won't be as pleasent as before."
Luvt simply stood there, enjoying the quiet whimpers his slut was making while simply enjoying her work. He wiped the few tears that leaked out of her eyes before laughing and mocking her; "Whats wrong whore? Didn't Cain train you to be a good little servant? I would have thought with all those Slaaneshi Mon-Keigh atleast one of them would have trained you!" He kept laughing and laughing before he finally grew bored of her slow movements. He growled loudly before grabbing her hair and dragging her closer.
"You can either go faster, or simply suffocate. Your choice Love."
He heard a small whimper and saw a look of hatred and agony in his slut's eyes before she began moving faster, in a desperate attempt to not end up brain dead. He growled loudly again, displeased at the events; "Atleast have the fucking civility to look me in the eyes as you choke on me whore". Drow let out a choking sound before slowly dragging up her teary eyes onto Luvt's. He pushed her off him and onto the floor before he descended down upon her again. Ripping and tearing at her uniform, desperate to feel her flesh underneath his. He grinned deeply, showing off his razor sharp fangs before dragging his barbed tongue across his lips.
"I think its time to return the favor Love."
Drow let out an agony filled scream as she felt Luvt biting down and tearing her up with his razor sharp tongue. She was screaming bloody murder, spewing every insult she could manage all the while she moaned in agony at the invasion. It felt like hours that she endured her insides be ripped apart and broken by her "lover" before he finally came back into view. His mouth was bloody, his teeth having slight bits of flesh stuck in them, and pure pleasure in his eyes; "Time for the finale Love."
He growled loudly as he thrusted forward, moaning at the pleasure. He grabbed Drow's wrists in an attempt to stop her thrashing, he was getting quite angry at her displeasure; "You better start being appreciative you fucking slut before I gouge your fucking eye out and fuck the hole I make". He slammed his fangs through Drow's shoulder after ending those words before continuing his sexual torment. For Drow it felt like hours that Luvt was a part of her being, but for Luvt it grew to an end all too quickly. He growled and looked at Drow with hateful passion in his eyes.
"I'm done with you whore."
He drew his talons back before gashing the female's throat. As he finished redressing himself he watched as blood gushed out of the wound. He chuckled darkly at her expression of terror, no doubt she thought she was really dying. But Luvt, being the wonderful individual he was, made it impossible to leave his mind's realm without experiencing death. He let out one last laugh at the appearance of the dying Drow before he shifted back into the true realm. Drow was on her knees slumped against a wall, drool on her mouth and tears on her face. He drew her up and began swaying, dancing to an unheard tune.
Even when “helped up” by Luvt, Drow could barely stand. Her legs wobbled, while cold sweat ran down her skin, a thin line of red was running down from her nostrils and mouth. Her gaze, weak and disorientated, settled on Luvt, who was guiding her down the ruined ashen garden path, stopping Drow from fallen due to her drunken sluggish movements. Feebly Drow reached to her throat, trying to find the wound Luvt had made. Slowly she felt over the pale flesh, but could find no scars or injury, but she could feel it. Her entire form ached, the pain was worse than anything she could think of, yet no wounds or bruises were there. Frantically she tried to search for the source of her pain. Her haggard, wheezing breathing mixed with her fidgety, frantic attempts to escape the psychic pain of Luvt. A panic and anger flared within Drow as Luvt held her arm tighter. She tried to pull herself free, to get as far as way from the Archon as possible, but with a single touch, Drow was paralysed; “Now, don't worry my lovely, the pain might fade in time, but it will never leave” his voice became a quiet whisper into the shaken Drow's ear; “I'll be with you forever.” He slid away, but Drow's eyes never left him. The rage she felt was only dampened by Drow's shame, and the agony of Luvt's psychic wounds.
Before they left the garden, Drow stopped, standing still on the garden path. Luvt turned to face his disobedient queen, and saw that her head was turned from him, starring away; “How long does this last?” The tremble in her voice was evident, the fear was rife. Luvt's viciousness had all but faded, but his apparent “return” was not trusted by Drow. Not one bit. “Nuat is holding a little 'banquet' in honour of his victory of the Grotesque hunt. We have been invited, and by that, I have. To not attend would upset him very much. I'm quite sure he's keen to talk with me, while you can stand around looking like a scared animal. You've certainly grown good at that, haven't you?” She didn't reply, until Luvt had walked a few paces away from her; “Once this is all over. I am going to find you Luvt, and I am going to make you pay.” Luvt waved a hand; “Oh Drow, you do know how to flatter me.”
Their walk through Luvt's palace felt exceptionally quiet to Drow, everything seemed to just become a blur bar Luvt, who appeared to have a glow to him. Like some sort of psychic fire that illuminated him among the now dull world. Drow had barely registered the fact Luvt had dragged her into his bedroom and pushed her to the side, while the Archon seemed to place far more attention on rummaging through what Drow could only call an extensive wardrobe. Her sleepy gaze traced his movements, the slight glow the Archon produced was never dimmed by the grey world, even as Drow seemed to drift in and out of sleep. Eventually, Luvt strutted past Drow, now clad in much “finer” and more elaborate in design. He gazed over himself in a mirror while Drow sat at the edge of his bed. Now seemingly satisfied with his choice of attire, Luvt danced over to the comatose Drow, taking her hands in his and pulling her up into his hold. Their moods were a stark opposite, and with a burst of energy Luvt dragged her out of the room.
Drow held close to Luvt as they entered the main hall of Nuat's palace, finding herself and the Archon among a mass of other Dark Kin. The aristocracy of the sub realm, that the soul thief Nuat seemed to hold dominion over. He held the attention of the hall, but Drow's remained with Luvt. The Archon whispered to her, it was so quick, and almost silent. She was sure his lips didn't move, and yet his voice was clearer than everything else; “I must talk with Nuat on something important, but first we must deal with a few others. Try to be a bit more...social.”
Drow and Luvt bobbed and weaved through the massive crowd, heading towards the ghostly throne at the back of the room. Their path was blocked by two nearly identical Eldar, bar a few differences in the armor and gender. The female Eldar was hanging off the Male's arm laughing with a delighted smile on her face, while the male stood there silently staring at Drow and Luvt; "Well what a surprise, I heard the Lord of Ravens was coming but I didn't expect him to bring a partner, isn't that lovely brother?". The male simply nodded and continued to pull the female with him into a waltz.
Luvt leaned towards Drow and whispered into her ear; "Orbdrin and Sumner Rairitra, duel Archons of the Weeping Veil. They are exceptionally mad, but just as equally powerful. They are both allies and rivals to our dearest host. Rumors say they do plenty of buisness with the Jesters of the First Fool, it would certainly explain their attire."
"They seem to be quite...entwined....Are they usually like this" Drow's comment trailed off as the two Dark Eldar danced, the woman clearly more excited by the jest than the other.
Before Luvt could reply, Drow had taken up a drink from the platter of one of the mutilated servants that stalked the hall. She had no idea what she was ingesting, though if this could ale Cain's problems, then just maybe. Quickly Drow began to drink from the glass, whatever it was, it tasted bitter. Exceptionally bitter. The colour was a strange blue hue, and quickly Drow had downed one cup. For a second, Luvt's presence seemed to almost, diminish. Everything became slightly, she could barely find the word. Drow was having a slight issue saying anything.
Luvt simply chuckled at Drow's behavior before dragging her off towards the ghostly throne. Luvt grimaced, Kyrol was here. He despised Kyrol, the man was one of few people who saw past his lies and trickery, and for that he hated him with a burning passion. Kyrol turned his one-eyed gaze onto Luvt before his broken jaw hinged upwards in what Luvt could only assume was a smile. Kyrol let out a horrible laugh, his skinless form twitching with every muscle moving along with him. He stuck his large skinless claw out, Luvt sneered at it before slowly placing his hand in the giant's grasp before pulling his hand away; "Dear, this is Lord Kyrol of the Lidless Sigil, he's a dear friend of mine and Nuat's.
Nuat was standing there silently, his Mon-Keigh lover pressed against his back hiding from the sight of the Dark Eldar around them. The ghostly figures of Nuat's hall were all standing or hovering behind Nuat's back silently, their spectral wounds oozing at the sight of the women who displeased their eternal master. Nuat's helm was gone for the first time today, revealing his young appearance that all too well hide his ancient origin.
"What?" Drow spat, her voice lacking any of it's previous restraint or caution as she drank more, her gaze now dizzy from it settled on Kyrol and Nuat. Kyrol, or whatever is his name, she'd forgotten was a foul looking creature. He lacked the youth of Nuat or the sharp features of Luvt, who she found herself pressed against, holding onto him as she drank more. Nuat was a slightly more impressive sight. Young, devoid of the age that sagged on some of the other Dark Eldar. She spied the filthy slave girl from before; "Bitch" she muttered under her breath, which stank of Dark Eldar elixirs and drinks. Drow had begun to lose count of the number of drinks she was partaking in, and was still unsure of what she was drinking, but it didn't matter. She now saw why Cain loved it. It was making the pain go away. Luvt's "glow" had not diminished, but she'd started to notice something similar coming from Nuat. She pushed up against Luvt, spiting out what meant to be a whisper, but devolved into a mad laugh before Drow continued, still giggling; "Your friend certainly has some disgusting toys for his deviant uses, unlike you" she said as she circled her finger across Luvt's chest plate.
Luvt chuckled softly at Drow's catty nature before he pulled her along past Kyrol towards Nuat. Luvt was smirking when he offered his hand to the Archon. Nuat grasped Luvt's hand tightly before dragging him off towards the throne. In Luvt's eyes, the world was black and decaying. Countless phantoms were screaming and clawing at Nuat's back, in a pitiful attempt to escape their Warden. One spirit stuck out among the rest, the Lord Abeolieth was gliding through the air whispering to Luvt "We have a problem Luvt, the Grotesque Hunt already has a new Archon and they are being aided by Kyrol and his blasted Lidless Sigilites." Luvt's smirk dropped, he had too much in this project of his to throw it away. The former Archonesse of the Grotesque Hunt had learned of his psychic nature and was blackmailing him, he had no idea if the new Archon had any idea of his nature either. He pulled away from Nuatzhiar to continue talking physically to him before his psychi pressed through to whisper to him in the dark realm of Nuat's soul; "Well dear Corpse-Walker, can't you simply infilitrate it with your Marked and let them assassinate the bloody person?"
Drow, losing interest in Luvt's lack of reaction to her and finding Nuat boring beyond belief, stumbled awkwardly away from the two, through the crowded banquet. She continued taking any drinks she could get her hands on, part of her now dedicated to simply acquiring more for the sake of it. Eventually, she settled her gaze on Orbdrin and Sumner, the two Harlequin 'esque' Archons from before, still in their deranged waltz. Drow, finding no interest in the other attendants, stalked over towards the two, a drink in each hand. Quickly the twins attention turned from each other to Drow, the girl spoke, as always, while her brother was silent; "Oh isn't it Luvt's lovely companion, you seem to be quite enjoying yourself." Her voice was sing song like, mad excitement filled every word; "No, this is terrible" Drow spat, sipping on her multi-hued drinks again; "Luvt's off doing his psychic malarkey and then I have to return to my home and speak with a Daemon Prince again" she looked over to Luvt and muttered, or attempted to; "Lord Khorne curse him." She looked back to the twins, her own face bearing the look of a strange, drunken joy, but she saw the Harlequin woman's expression had taken an almost sour look; "What did you say?"
Nuat's skin shivered violently as he felt the shadows around him slide across his skin to whisper a dark warning to him. His emerald eyes snapped onto the figure of Luvt's whore talking to the Archons of the Weeping Veil. He saw the sour look in her eyes before she drew her gaze to rest on Luvt with a harsh glare. The shadows kept whispering to him to let the Raven Lord fall, but he knew all to well that wouldn't happen from the dark look in Luvt's eyes. He could almost feel the fire in them before the Prince of Scourges descended down the steps from his throne towards his whore. He was about to follow the Archon before he felt a tugging at his cloak, he turned to see his slave-girl shivering and about to cry. He reached forward for a moment to comfort her before he turnedh is gaze back onto the party. If Luvt was to be killed this day then he wouldn't stop it, simply another obstacle out of his way.
Luvt growled he felt his psychi screaming at him to burn everything in the room to ashes, but he knew better. Such displays of power outside his own realm would be known throughout all of Commorragh within minutes. He put on a smirk as he wrapped his wings around Drow's frame before leaning forward towards the twin Archons to gossip; "Isn't that just adorable, our dearest Host has quite the affection for a Mon-Keigh?"
Sumner's crazed grin came back onto her face before she began giggiling alongside the Lord of Ravens. She gave her brother a sly look as she watched him inspect the Archon from behind his death mask, she and he both knew what Luvt's companion said. She continued to talk and gossip with the Lord of Feathers but she didn't dare bring up such rumors as psychic power. Even if she HAD evidence to him being a user of sorcery, this was Luvt. He was a popular man within Commorragh, and was an important servant within Vect's courts. If she was to play this game with the Lord of Feathers she was to play very cautiously. She was about to speak of another rumor when she saw it. It. It was a fire in Luvt's eyes that frightened her beyond all others. She smiled to hide her fear before the Archon of the Skewering Feather pulled his companion away to begin waltzing with her. She stepped closer to her brother and shivered, she didn't want to ever look Luvt in the eyes again if it meant seeing that all-hating fire in his eyes again.
"She was nice" Drow had a warm drunken smirk upon her tired pale face, though a light had returned to her darkened eyes; "Such a strange girl, but not as strange as you lllloooovvvveeerrrr" Drow let out a drunken giggle that became a howling laugh as she remembered back to only a day ago, when Luvt had come to her. He was such a sweet creature, the ill minded Eldar spoke, dancing gleefully with Luvt. He drew close, almost certainly to whisper a threat, but there was no time for that, she was having fun. She hadn't had this much in years. Before the Archon could speak, Drow lifted the smaller Luvt off his feet and pressed her lips against his, holding him against herself for a few seconds, before releasing him. He was still in Drow's hold; "Now" her dizzy smile had turned into a mad grin, the Champion of Khorne was lost in drink; "What was my lovely Archon going to say to me."
Luvt grimaced, his wings were being crushed by the larger drow before he used his greater strength to push her arms off his crushed wings. He sighed, the damage was already done, little he could do would change Sumner's course of action. He stretched out his talons for a moment before grasping Drow's hands and pulling her off into a waltz. His coordinated and graceful movements seeming unnatural compared to Drow's own drunken movements. He wasn't having much fun at this party, Drow was being too affectionate and it simply soured his mood even further. His attention was dragged to their Host when he heard the ghostly wailing of his servants.
All the Dark Eldar stopped dancing, talking, and drinking to pay attention to their Host. He was standing behind him with a legion of ghostly figures crying soundlessly; "Now my dear guests, I would like to present to you my gift for allowing me to be such a gracious host. A song from a Choir of the truly Damned." At those words Nuat moved out of the way and the ghostly phantoms began singing a hauntingly gorgeous song. The Dark Eldar all stood still, letting the ghastly song penetrate their senses in disgustingly lovely ways. The singing of the Phantoms was interrupted by a howling of a beast. The obsidian doors of Nuat's palace burst open and a wave of Grey Armored Kaballites came running in.
They were dressed in skulls and bone, the majority of them having some sort of bovine like skull on their masks. They were chanting something in Ancient Eldar, as a figure slowly stepped in. He was dressed in the similar ashy grey battleplate as the rest of the invaders, but his armor was far more brutal and regal. Countless bones lined his armor, and a cloak of spinal cords flowed from his back. Rune-marked skulls covered his shoulders as blades sliced cleanly through their open mouths. On his helm rested the skull of a Tyranid Warrior Prime from which his dark red eyes peered out. Resting slack in his hands was a bone-grey splinter rifle covered in the bones of some previous victim. Attached to his wrist was a chain that lead to two large hideous beasts that growled and snapped at the guests they passed.
These beasts were hideous skinned hounds with large maws that could fit an entire human in their jaw before swallowing them whole. Large bone crests rested on their heads and their massive teeth constantly clacked together as they cackled like hyenas. One of Nuat's servants came striding at them screaming at them that this was the home of the Abyssal Gale and any uninvited guests would be thrown out. The Huntsman simply raised his rifle to level and fired off a quick shot that sliced through the flesh and bone of the Servant. He howled in pain as his skin and muscles slowly became cream white, and his organs began expunging so much blood it seeped through his orifices. The Huntsman raised his rifle to aim at the Ghostly Archon. By the time the projectile reached Nuat's previous location he was already down the steps of his throne.
The Huntsman readjusted his aim before rattling off another quick shot, Nuat yet again slide past the projectile unarmed before he removed his blade from it's sheath. Charging at each other the Huntsman and the Archon clashed, their blades striking either metal or air. The two danced around each other, the Huntsman somehow keeping up with the older Archon. Eventually Nuat sent his blade slicing through the air only to have the Huntsman grasp the blade with his clawed talons and to redirect the blade's descent all the while sending his blade sliding in-between the ribs of the older Eldar. Pulling back from the Huntsman, Nuat ran his armored hand over the wound feeling his life-blood trickle out of the injury. He placed his foot forward and noticed that the Huntsman took a step back. Their fight continued like this for some while, the Huntsman or Nuatzhiar stepping forward only to have their opponent take a step back. The Huntsman growing impatient dashed forward in an attempt to place his blade through his opponents skull, Nuat dropped low to the ground and sent his blade screaming for the Huntsman's heart.
Using his superior reflexes the Huntsman grabbed the Archon's blade with his unarmed hand to lift himself up and over the blade. The Huntsman shook his hand, droplets of blood splattering onto the floor at the action. The Huntsman yanked on the chain, sending the two cackling beasts yapping towards the Archon. Nuat quickly moved closer to the Huntsman, he knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to gain some distance on the Archon so that he could shoot him in the back from afar with that blasted splinter rifle of his. Nuat simply spun his sickle-like blades around before dashing forward towards the Huntsman. When he came in appropriate range he grazed his fingers against the Huntsman's figure before slamming the hilt of his blades down on his shoulders. The mere touch of the living dead Archon sent the Huntsman into a fit of dark visions.
Slashing away at the Huntsman's armor Nuat felt a foot against his ankle before it slammed into leg. The Huntsman dropped his rifle and picked up his rival. Holding him up for a second the Huntsman was ready to slam the Soul-Thief onto his knee when he noticed the Feathered Archon approaching him with his Mistress' head in hand. In his moment of distraction the Huntsman failed to realize that Nuat had seized his sickles again and began to slice deep into the Huntsman's arms. He raised the sickle up high, prepared to end the life of the Huntsman when Luvt laughed and rolled the head towards the downed Archon. In a brutal show of strength and fury, the Huntsman sliced his own arm through the sickle to escape and cradle the head to his chest. Shocked at the self-mutilation that the Huntsman would go through to reclaim a simple corpse's head, Nuat stood there with his sickle at his side. He began to approach the grounded figure when he felt a hand on his shoulder;
"Now, Archon Elginyrr. May I make a suggestion? You are injured, this hunter is injured. You killed the Archonesse of the Grotesque Hunt, they defiled your party. Blood has been spilt enough." Leaning closer to Nuat, Luvt whispered to him; "And if you wait to kill him until later, you can seize another prize for your collection while ensuring that the Grotesque Hunt stops being a problem."
Nuatzhiar snorted before delivering a swift kick to the Huntsman's side before waving off. Cradling both his injured arm and the head of his Mistress, the Huntsman skulked away growling silently. In the frenzy, numerous guests had been killed by rivals and assassins. Poisoned food, treacherous blades, and even brutal killings by hand to hand combat had occurred. The Bone Masked Kaballites were making a show of dragging along skinned victims, still living and howling of course. Still furious over the turn of events, the Soul-Thief raised his hand for his Kaballites to begin moving the now uninvited guests out of his Palace. The ghostly specters of Nuat's palace began screaming and howling; "Forgive this intrusion honored guests, but tonight's social gathering must be canceled. Leave now, before I turn my blades on those foolish enough to remain." Luvt snickered and pulled the drunk Drow along, whispering to her how it was time for them to leave.
“Well were do we go next” she pushed herself close to him as the two marched down the hall, towards the hanger of Nuat's palace. Rapping her arm and wing around the Archon; “I'd love to know”. Her voice bore a distinctive drunken slur, a tone filled with arrogance, as well as a sort of ignorance, like Drow had forgotten who she spoke too. She was intoxicated by too many different types of drink and drug to count, and Luvt had to avoid being crushed by her grip another time, before replying to Drow; “Well, we have so little time left, so I thought we could do something specia-” “I know what we can do! I know what we can do!” Luvt was close to smacking her for interrupting him, though something about her childish delight and demeanor brought on by her excessive drinking entertained Luvt; “Well Drow, what do you believe we might do in our final hours together, I'd love to hear your ever so intelligent suggestions.”
His words were laced with sarcasm, but it all seemed to go over Drow's head, much to Luvt's disappointment; “Well, I was thinking...” She ran her hand against his chest, tapping her fingers against the armour plate; “We could go back to the Covenant, and make our own fun. I know where to get more of this as well” Drow gestured to a glass of wine she had taken from the banquet, giving Luvt another dizzy smile, the Archon nodded in response; “What a delightful suggestion Drow, I think we shall do just that. Come, let's return to my ship." With nothing but a slight slip into excess, Drow was already scratching at his armour, trying to lay with him, Luvt thought to himself. How delightful. Drow's own thought process was far more limited. With an unsteady gaze she practically leered over Luvt, who's form was illuminated by a psychic light that burned around him. The alcohol and drugs only furthered the phenomena Drow saw, while helping to deal with the aching pain she felt across her body. She couldn't tell why, but it felt quite nice to be close to the Archon.
Luvt led her into the hanger, where the finely decorated Raider and it's Incubi guard waited for the two once again. With some help from Luvt, Drow awkwardly climbed onto the sleek craft deck, welcomed only by the spiteful gaze of the Incubi war masks. Grasping onto a railing, Drow barely held on as the Raider took off, it's jets exploding into life. Filled with bleak amusement, Luvt watched as the intoxicated Khornate Champion humiliated herself further, half hardheartedly flirting with a number of the silent Incubi, before sitting down in daze on the Raiders grated floor. With hazy vision Drow looked on as the Raider flew through the sky of the Dark City, barely able to comprehend what she was looking over, her drug addled mind unable to process the colossal scale of the webway bound metropolis. Eventually, the Raider docked with a much larger craft, she remembered it from before. It was the ship that had brought her to the city in the first place.
The ship did not take long to reach the Brethren of Spites amassed war fleet, Drow wasn't sure of the specific time herself. Swiftly the Dark Eldar craft reached the Covenant of Sin, landing in one of it's numerous hangers. As Drow and Luvt, dismounted from the ship, she looked back one last time to the sleek vessel. She compared it's jagged shape with the boxy, boring hull of the Brethren's own vessel, finding disappointment in the lacking appearance of her home. Quickly she returned her attention to the Archon, taking hold of his arm, she tried to pull him along; "Come, I'll show you where we can have some fun."
Xaphon sat at his desk, a large tome laid open before him. With crystal green eye lenses, the sorcerer studied it's pages, occasionally making notes or making corrections with a black quill. A number of other novella and books were sat beside the sorcerer, as he wrote down the latest resources the Brethren of Spite had acquired on their raid. Despite the tedious nature of his work, Xaphon was still pleased. With Kremlin dead from Drow's outburst, he had been promoted to Chief Sorcerer. He'd only finished looting the old man's chambers earlier, and now his room was further stacked with arcane tomes and artifacts which Xaphon had taken. Well, time for a celebratory drink, he thought to himself. Quietly, Xaphon walked over to the cabinet at the side of his chambers, and pulled open the crystal doors. Within a mass of glasses and bottles lay, organised in a dozen asinine and overly complex fashion that only he could devise. Reaching for a bottle of wine, Xaphon almost smashed dozens of the glasses into oblivion as he raised his still helmeted head, looking towards the door. Something was hitting it. Closing the glass cabinet, Xaphon made his way over to the entrance and opened the door, greeted by the sight of the scantly clad Drow and Cain's Archon ally, Luvt. With a meek voice Xaphon spoke;
"G-greetings Lord Drow and Archon Luvt, it is a wonderful surprise to see both of you now, even at such an awkward hour" Xaphon took a step back into his room, turning towards Drow; "I did mean to thank you for removing the issue of Kremlin, he was quite the bother, but weren't you supposed to return to us later from Lord Drow? I was certain Cain said your holiday, as he called it, not me, was still on going." The sorcerer cowered in his armour as she stepped towards him. Even without her own power armour, Drow was still taller than Luvt, and peered over the Sorcerer. Quickly Xaphon took note of the stench of alien alcohol and narcotics that accompanied the Eldar woman, and her own half sane gaze that was now upon him. He was terrified;
"Oh, it's still going on" Drow said, taking hold of one of Xaphon's curved horns she pulled him up to her; "Now, I need you to give us something, in return for me, helping you. Do you understand?" Silently, he nodded. Drow smiled at Xaphon's fear, while Luvt looked on at the two with some mild humour; "Very good. Who's a good weakling psyker? Tell me?" Xaphon cocked his head; "W-what?" Her smile turned to a scowl, and her tone was filled by anger;
"Who is?" Xaphon quivered; "Me?" Drow giggled at Xaphon's terrified answer; "Oh don't worry, we won't hurt you, unless you don't cooperate. Now, what was it I wanted" she seemed to stare into space, tapping her foot while keeping a firm hold on his horned helm. She was completely pissed. Xaphon didn't want to die hours after his promotion; "Oh, I know! Your collection." His voice still meek, Xaphon looked to the Khornate Champion; "W-which one?" Drow growled, tearing the left horn from the sorcerers helmet, she smashed it into his left eyepiece. Xaphon let out a pained scream, falling onto his back, clutching his wound. Reaching down, she grabbed his neck and forced the whimpering sorcerer to look at her; "Where is your alcohol Xaphon, everyone on the ship knows you have it, no, everyone in the fleet does." Xaphon weakly pointed to the cabinet at the end of the room, Drow swiftly released him and took hold of the Archons hand. Dancing past the wounded sorcerer, Drow smashed the crystal door, and gazed over the collection with Luvt.
Luvt stared at Xaphon from behind his helm, amazed how even when heavily intoxicated Drow caused intense fear in the Sorcerer. Luvt pried his helmet off his head and hooked it onto his waist before slowly strolling towards the Sorcerer. He lifted his talon to brush against the helm of the Sorcerer, admiring the designs of his robes and armor. He could feel his psychi pushing against the barriers of reality around him, this sorcerer may be a Mon-Keigh but he was certaininly far more powerful then other Mon-Keigh Psykers. He stopped to stare up at the Astrate's helm, gripping his face tightly before dragging him down to look him in the eyes. He stared silently in the Sorcerer's visor, waiting for the sorcerer to say something.
"Greetings Archon" Xaphon managed to splutter out, still trying to ignore and block out the pain of his injuries, slowly trying to remove the metal horn that had been thrust into his eye socket; "Cain has told me little about you, though he did mention your relation with..." Xaphon's now one eyd gaze strayed back to the mad Drow who had set about looting his valued collection; "...you've certainly brought out something in her" Xaphon looked back to Luvt, staring into the Dark Eldar's eyes. Xaphon peered behind the veil, and almost recoiled in shock at the sight; "Y-your a psyker, h-how?"
Luvt's mouth curved into a vicious smirk, his barbed tongue snaking out to drag itself across the fangs. He pulled at Xaphon's hands to place them gently on the black soulstone that rested on Luvt's chest. He murmered somthing in the Eldar language. He looked down for a moment before dragging his gaze back onto Xaphon's eyes, his own filled with sickly eldritch fire; "Simple dearest Sorcerer. The Eldar have always been a psychic race, I simply had to stretch out the weak muscle, strengthen it, and reawaken my latent psychic potential." Luvt chuckled still keeping Xaphon's hands on the black soulgem; "Do you want to know how?"
Xaphon cocked his head, still trying to clear his thoughts; "It would be fascinating to know how one such as yourself was able to preform an action" Xaphon quickly reached over to one of his notebooks that had fallen to the floor, and one of his ink quills; "It would be a waste not to document such information as well."
Luvt reached around his head to remove the necklace that hung the soulstone. He lifted it up so that Xaphon could stare into it's blackish red core; "Look deep, and look long. Forgive me if you are not capable of seeing it, but in there lies a being that thought itself strong. Thought itself intelligent, and thought itself godlike. But I took it down from its throne. I cast the blasted thing into a deep corner of my mind, and I tortured it. I brought it down to levels it thought it would never reach. A greater daemon of It Who Sees All." Luvt let out a loud laugh, and had a deep grin on his face; "Forgive him, he is shy now. He won't whisper deep secrets anymore, and he won't manipulate anymore. He's now just as much of a servant of me, as my own Kaballites are."
Luvt snatched the soulstone itself and notched it into his armor before laying the chain around his neck. He shook his hair and stared up at the Sorcerer. His grin was gone and his eyes held complete and total hatred alone. He scoffed before lighting an eldritch fire in his palm; "Rememeber one thing sorcerer. You can either remember to not speak a word of this to anyone. Or you can remember, that I am a psyker beyond your imagination. Whatever plans the Daemons lusting for your mind and body have, will be nothing to what I will do to you if you speak a word about this to anyone."
"Worry not Archon, I have no need or wish, or even basic desire to tell any of what we might dicuss here. I simply love to learn, espically on how one such as yourself unlocked your repressed potential. It's not like anyone else cares what I do here, they are too busy raping and looting or..." His gaze settled on Drow again, downing another exotic alien liquor; "...drinking, so as I said, worry not Archon"
Drow downed another bottle, throwing the empty glass against one of the rooms bookshelves before grabbing another and removing the lid, but she was growing tired of this. Stumbling over to the Archon, Drow took hold of Luvt's arm and pushed Xaphon out of the way and onto his back; "I think it's time we went and had some REAL fun, don't you think?" She looked back to Xaphon with a delighted drunken smile, before throwing one of his prized liquor glasses against the Chaos space marines torn open helm, watching as it smashed against his head, before dragging Luvt out of the room. She was quick in leading the Archon back to her chambers, drunk and without any sense of dignity as she marched past a number of baffled Astartes, none of whom dared to glance at the Archon and his courtsean. Soon, Drow was carrying Luvt through the doors of her chamber.