A Dark Elves AAR / Fan Fiction : Whispers of Temptation

**The_Historian** · July 05, 2012, 03:05 AM

Okay, since the last thing I've posted here was a year ago (look up "Winds of Dhar") I figured it's time for me to make my inglorious return with a Druchii fan fiction...yet again. So, here's a little something I've came up with, it won't contain as many pictures as I would like because I'm horrible at taking them but anyone is welcome to send some screenies my way and I'll try to incorporate them into this little escapade of mine.

I'm very considerate, here's a map of the Old World and Naggaroth. Try not to get lost

http://whfb.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/.../OldWorld2.jpg

http://whfb.lexicanum.com/mediawiki/.../Naggaroth.jpg

Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen of the Old World, I present to you... *Epic drum roll*

Whispers of Temptation, A Dark Elves Fan Fiction.

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Prologue:

By the order of the Witch-King, Malekith a dark expedition was dispatched to the Old World led by one of his many heirs, Vauroth Darkvictor the Unchallenged and his generals; Gharlek Jademaw of Har Ganeth, Inaran Darkwinter of Hag Graef, Drakar Doomshadow the Untouchable and Kalandhin Swordstorm of Naggarond.

Vauroth Darkvictor along with his two most trusted generals; Gahrlek Jademaw and Drakar Doomshadow made camp at the farthest edge of Norsca, their dark fleet from the New World belching forth the dark host of Naggaroth and their unfortunate slaves upon Norsca. No time was wasted and soon a defendable staging ground was erected

Inaran Darkwinter and Kalandhin Swordstorm made claim to Selthis Lysk, a castle in the Northern Waste also known as “Troll Country” by the humans. It was placed strategically as to allow the construction of a proper port to allow reinforcements from Naggaroth to further bolster their numbers.

Many moons have passed since their arrival here and yet it still went unnoticed by the inhabitants of the Old World. The Druchii exploited that with brutal force; thousands of slaves were put to work to build proper barracks and buildings to ensure that the Druchii were properly prepared for their raids. They were here to bring back slaves in their thousands back to Naggaroth, they were here to stay.

Fell storms rolled from the seas, churning the waters to the point that sailing was becoming difficult for the Druchii; the best sea-farers of the world. Such a blizzard of harsh winter made it impossible for reinforcements from Naggaroth to make their voyage safe to the Old World and thus they only made voyage when the storms end. During such times, the Druchii make tedious efforts to ensure that their supplies last and they take extreme measures to ensure their standing armies are prepared to defend their lands.

Though known as a cruel, brutal and heartless race, they were no fools. Word has reached their ears of an Asur expedition force south of Norsca and somewhere near the Sea of Claws. Those were given the highest attention by the Dark Elves Expedition, and they wished nothing more than to see all of the Asur’s blood spilled in the name of the God of Murder.

Chapter 1: Forewarning

Heir Vauroth was lounging on his overly comfortable and lavish throne of ebon marble when he detected a presence in the room. “Make yourself known, or I will make your skin a part of my floor.” He made no change to his previously comfortable pose relishing in the fact that he was as safe as anyone could be in a Druchii society.

Soon enough a Shade dispatched itself from the shadow of a large bookcase. “Hail, mighty Heir.” Its voice was wispy compared to the clear and hard voice of Vauroth. “I bring you news, my lord.”

“Speak.”

“We have detected a large Asur fleet heading here, great one. They carry many an Asur in the bowels of their ships.” The Shade’s tone was bare of any emotion; it had no human quality in it which caused Vauroth some discomfort. “They will arrive here soon.”

“We best be ready then. Be gone and tell your brothers to prepare for any ambush. You will remove any major players in their army before they reach my walls. We will slaughter them, here.”

The Shade bowed deeply before vanishing again in the shadows and Vauroth inwardly cursed his luck; to be so close to the hated enemy and yet so unprepared. His forces were little more than Naggarothi citizen levy and there are not enough of them to triumph over an Asur warhost. He had to rely on his admiral to destroy as many ships as he can to ensure minimal ground forces to land. This would be a confrontation that would require him to apply many of his experience.

His mind drifted for a brief moment as it traveled back to the time when his forces were ambushed in the New World by a large concentration of Lizardmen. They were outnumbered at least five-to-one and yet somehow they managed to emerge as victors against those creatures. Perhaps his luck will hold up yet against the Asur, the Lizardmen are better fighters than those self-proclaimed civilized beings.

“Oh what joy, they come to me. They are of lesser intelligence than lambs, Khaine be praised…” he said to himself.

The Druchii were sworn enemies of the Asur. It was no surprise that they spared no resource in preparing their warhost to go against their camp in Norsca. All who would raise up arms against the Druchii joined the host; Swordmasters of Hoeth, Reavers from Ellyrion, Mages from Saphery, Dragon Princes of Caledor and even the citizens willing donned their gear to make war against the Druchii. All were armored with the best, befitting their rank and status.

The fleet was no small thing either; many an Asur admiral answered the Asur’s call and converged together under an Admiral to form a formidable naval force.

Terrifying laughter escaped from the blood red lips of Inaran “Finally! The Asur attempts to prove themselves!” another fit of violent laughter overtook Inaran Darkwinter, ruling governor of the Druchii castle, Selthis Lysk.

“More slaves and glory for us, once that fool dies. Vauroth proves to be an incompetent leader, he stayed quiet for too long and now he suffers for his laziness.” Kalandhin smiled and revealed his unnaturally perfect teeth. “Once he passes on, we must move quickly to ensure that both Gharlek and Drakar either defect to our side, else we must employ the Assassins of Khaine to…take care of them.”

Inaran nodded seriously, finally realizing the possibilities that might arise from the passing of Vauroth. “No doubt Gharlek will take charge of the expedition, claiming close bonds with Vauroth.”

“He will not give up his right to rule so easily. He must be dealt with.” Kalandhin too regained his composure and calculatively thought of all the possible outcomes with each possibly course of action taken. “But we cannot use our Assassins, no.”

“No?”

Kalandhin sighed, the short-sightedness of Inaran annoying him yet again. “We will be the first few to be suspected of such an act. Though ruthless back-stabbing is no rare occurrence in Druchii life, we must not give Malekith the pleasure of punishing us for murdering one of his heirs.“

Inaran kept quiet but his expression told his fellow conspirator to be plain with his suggestion.

“I suggest that we allow our beloved Asuryan cousins to deal with him. We can use our spies and assassins to quicken their move against the Camp in Norsca. Once they fall, we will be the ones to reign here.” Kalandhin was thankful that his other smiled in agreement.

“It will take longer, but it ensures our future, very well. I’ll leave you to continue your plans; brother and I shall look to our borders and prepare to raid those repugnant Norsemen in Vinnskor. Their presence irks me so.” He stood up from his throne and embraced Kalandhin in a tight embrace before pulling away to stare at him eye-to-eye. “We cannot fail, brother. This might be our only chance to redeem ourselves, it must go according to plan.”

“And it will, worry not, brother. Leave it to me.” He smiled once before turning sharply on his heel to leave the chamber, more than eager to put his plan in place. Oh how he relished being the composer of such an intricate dance of violent Druchii politics, it always brought him a manner of joy that battlefields failed to provide him with as of late. Perhaps, this was the life he was meant for.

For all their paranoia to ensure that their conversation went unheard of, a lone shadow detached itself quietly from the throne room of Inaran and slipped silently through an open window into the night. His superiors would be well in need to listen to such actions, it would benefit them and it turn benefit himself. Their fates were carried in the hands of this mysterious shadow and he knew full well of that fact.

“By the Gods!” Admiral Ferun Uthran of the Asur fleet held on tightly to the polished and intricate wooden railing of his ship as the storm whipped against the sailing fleet, tearing pieces of cloth and bits of wood everywhere. The winds were foul and unnatural, it was no force of nature.

Lord Elran Dreamwalker spat in the air, only to have it slam back towards his own face, a roar of laughter erupted from those who saw the scene. “Magic! The Druchii are casting it against us! Remain strong men and women of Ulthuan, we will prevail against their foul craft and lay waste to them!” A strong wind hit him and his helmet flew off from his face, the sly wind pushing it off with their unnatural currents.

The seas were rolling violently, already a ship carrying a regiment of citizen levy capsized as it was swallowed whole by a huge wave, never to be seen again. The host thought that it could not get worse, they were sorely wrong.

“Druchii sails! They come!”

From the farthest edge of their vision they could see the foul liveries and colors of the Druchii fleet. It was half as large as that of the Asur but it seemed that the storm had no affect on them; they sailed through the rolling seas and harsh winds with ease. Their howls of triumph were carried by the wind towards the Asur as two more Asur ships fell to the mercy of the depths.

“Damn their souls!”

“Drop the sails, release anchor and turn about!” The admiral tried to shout the order as loud as possible over the roaring winds to his men. “We must sail back!”

“No!” The defiant yell of the Asur commander, Elran cut through the noise. “By the will of the Gods, we cannot let them win this day!”

“Fool! We cannot survive this attack!” He turned to relay his orders yet again, demanding that the men do as he commanded, they did. A scream pierced the air as a crewman was blown off from the ship by a sudden surge of wind before many other joined him.

“Men overboard! We have men overboard!”

Ferun paid no heed. “Keep steady and turn about!” He turned to face the commander and all he could see was a fast speeding gauntleted fist heading towards his face. He fell to the wooden floor of the ship, unconscious only semi seconds later.

Elran ordered a man to secure the admiral to safety, ensuring that he would not be blown off by the rolling seas. “I am in command now! You will listen to me!”

Vauroth stood atop the highest peak of the highest tower upon the highest position inside the Dark Elven Camp. He saw the storm clouds converge on the known location of the Asur fleet and the dreadful moment when it seemed that the sorcerer’s spell would fail, massive streams of purple lightning fell on the sea. He could see the waters recoil at the unholy touch of her magic as horrible gusts of wind blew across the sapphire waters and massive waves crashed against the shores and the Gods’ know what other horrors were conjured by the sorcerer.

A feral grin played on his lips as he sensed the souls of his misguided kin being dragged down to the very depths of the sea, a pleasurable feeling crawled up his spine. He whispered a silent prayer to Slaanesh, alerting him to the large number of Asur souls meeting their end, hoping that He will ensure that the Asur suffer eternally in the hands of the Dark Prince.

“Starboard!” The Elven ship recoiled as a lance of dark light nearly split in it two. “Watch out!” Dozens of Asur crew members jumped out of the way as their sails begun to topple over, the lance finding another way to cause havoc to the ship. “We are disabled!”
The Elven commander watched as another ship sank to the depths, its sails broken by foul magic. He could sense Shyish strong about him and he cursed his luck that the mages of Saphery failed to counter any of the spells.

Hundreds of Asur lives were lost to the foul arts of the Druchii magic and others as poisoned crossbow bolts pierced their bodies. It seemed to the Asur that all hope is lost, their lives forfeit due to the recklessness of a young and aspiring Asur commander.

“…What have I done…” the realization of the crimes he committed slowly began to fester in his mind. How could he? He lashed against a respected admiral of the Asur fleet, the only one that has knowledge enough to perhaps spare the lives of these poor dying Asur. Elran fell to his knees as he surrendered himself to the only outcome that he could foresee taking place. “Asuryan…forgive me…”

His luck just ran out. In his moment of brutally enjoying the destructive scene before him, an Asur warhost marched on land towards the Dark Elves Camp upon Norsca. They went undetected as they stalked the environment with predator-like moves. It was amazing how such a force could wander through Druchii land without being spotted for long.
Prince Oronwre Undromiel was riding at the forefront of the host and as befitting his title, a group of Dragon Princes played the role as his unwavering bodyguard. He was garbed from head to toe with magnificent wargear and jewelry that boasted his heraldry while the banner bearers of the host marched with the rainbow of crests and colors that belonged to each of the lands in Ulthuan.

“Ah, Swordmaster Huron Bladestorm. It has been too long.” Oronwre nodded warmly at the footed Swordmaster of Hoeth, not bothering to dismount his horse just for the sake of courtesy. They had no time to waste and he even acknowledging him was consuming some of that time.

He knew that the sea force would not make it to land. He foresaw the simple fact that their Forsworn cousins did not fight with honor. They resort to dark magic and dirty strategies to triumph over their betters, a disgraceful act and it shamed all the Asur to know that Elves would resort to such vile methods.

The Swordmaster returned the greeting with an equally warm smile, taking no offence of the Prince’s slight. “Yes, it has my lord.” His bejeweled blade was sheathed perfectly behind him, the hilt visible from above his armored shoulder and the jewels incrusted in the hilt shone brilliantly as the sun danced across the weapons and armor of the host. “It would seem that the Druchii are shortsighted. They are foolish enough to assume that we were foolish enough to attack them by sea.”

“Or perhaps we are foolish enough to assume that they were foolish enough thought so.”

The aged elf chuckled “Spoken like a true philosopher, my lord.” He said, before bowing ever so slightly. “I must take my leave my lord; I have other duties to attend.” He waited for the Prince to give him permission to dismiss himself before confidently striding towards his other Broadsword wielding kindred.

It amazed the Prince to no end to see those magnificent warriors of Hoeth marching with him. Never before would he have thought that the warrior sages of Hoeth would ever raise up arms in the Old World. He was delighted to be proven wrong.

The host was like a massive shining star upon the earth, the bright sun glinting off their armor, making them look like the divine Gods of old marching against the foe. With such flamboyant and obvious show of force, all the Asur wondered why they were marching unchallenged by the Druchii as they marched ever onwards.