NationStates Jolt Archive

((This is half RP, half catalogue of the events surrounding the second ascension of the Kabal Man'men to power. I have the basic framework of the story mapped out, but you're welcome to hop in with a character and roleplay if you like. Just remember that all of this takes place in Commorragh, the city of the Dark Eldar, and is beyond the reach of anyone except, possibly, Tor Yvresse.

With that in mind, you're welcome to play a dark eldar, or a non-eldar slave in the city. ))

Rath's gaze sweeps over the skyline of the city, the black towers thrust defiantly against the dull crimson sky. That bleak reddish light filters down into every street and alley, leaving deep shadows blacker than the razor spires. The balcony clings to the side of a building, some several kilometers above the distant ground below.

He turns his back on the dark city. Each footstep prompts a soft click from the marble-like floor; each sound echoes hollowly within the expansive chamber.

A vision of flowing blood, of broken bodies and steaming gore glistening on a mottled red-and-black street smashes Rath's reverie.

Is that what it will come to? War in the streets, in the halls of the Kabal?

It would not be the first time in this city that power had been shifted with the spilling of blood. War rages between Kabals and gangs in the streets below. It is the way of the dark ones, death and strife. It had been for ten thousand years.

"My lord," an Incubus says, "The withdrawal from Silmesse will begin soon."

Rath sits in the wraithbone throne that had belonged to his predecessor and lover, Mieka. Is she really still alive? The Deceiver has lied before. He does not let the memories of the past distract him from the business at hand, though. "What of the forces from Manmenash? Has the Fleet arrived?"

"The fleet has arrived and has made berth. Our warriors are ready, and the rogue faction has been found."

"Good. Wait for my word before striking. Urien won't like our interference, and we must be at full strength if we are to resist the Kabal of the Black Hand, nevermind subdue it." Rath's gauntleted hand clutches at the haft of N'wah Man at the thought of the ancient and black-hearted Archon of the Kabal of the Black Hand.

((bump))

((and is beyond the reach of anyone except, possibly, Tor Yvresse.))
((Not for long...

And you had to take Nascia didn't you... If you need something done, don't try to get Siri to do it...))

((If you need something done, don't try to get Siri to do it...))

((Not if you want it done expediently. ;) ))

((Not if you want it done expediently. ;) ))

((To paraphrase Father Ted: Come here till I get you Nascia! :evil:

Humm... I wonder are there any NB worshippers there...))

Ri paced out of the shadowy background of the chamber towards Rath, through a small concealed door. She wore what she usually wore; her form-fitted breastplate, mail skirt, and high boots. She is fairly tall, even for the Eldar, and is rather slim and shapely. Vambraces made of some sort of leather cover her forearms, and likely conceal more then a few different weapons. She moves rather slowly though, but it seems to be intentional. Her hair is the purest of black, tinged almost purple; a sharp contrast to her pale white skin. It was rumoured amongst some of her lesser warriors that she had the power to enthal a man from thirty paces with so much as a look. Her ruby-red lips sertainly added to the allure of her thin face, one which had obviously enthralled Rath, but to what extent she didn't know.

Smiling as went, only the soft click of her heels could be heard on the floor as she approached Rath's new throne. She new who used to sit here, and she knew full well what Rath had done to get where he was today. She didn't begrudge him that. She figured she'd do the same thing, if she had half the chance. She walked up beside the throne, and leaned in with her eyes closed.

"So my Lord, what news?" she whispered softly in his ear with her dark voice, so quiet that even his hearing would render it barely audable. She knew full well what news had come, but has wanted to hear it from him. She smiled darkly as she stepped back a pace and turned to face him.

"My lord," the incubus prompts.

"What is it?" Rath's voice is filtered through his helm, and as cold and artificial as the stones of the great chamber.

"Our forces are in place. The last of the warriors from Silmesse have arrived. The rogue faction has noticed our arrival; our agents think they have approached the other kabals for support."

Rath's head tilts a fraction of an inch in aknowledgement of the information. "Of course they have. Kill the leaders of the rebellion, and any who have entertained them. We are second only to the Black Hand, and I will not tolerate this from my lessers."

"As you wish it, Archon-Incubus."

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Deep shadows in deeper alleys flicker with unnatural life, shifting and writhing with the passage of Demons That Stalk Men. The Dark City never sleeps, having neither night nor day beneath the crushing weight of the bloodstained sky.

For the first time in centuries, the second most powerful kabal has the entirity of its forces within Commorragh, and no one is ready for it.

Ri paced out of the shadowy background of the chamber towards Rath, through a small concealed door. She wore what she usually wore; her form-fitted breastplate, mail skirt, and high boots. She is fairly tall, even for the Eldar, and is rather slim and shapely. Vambraces made of some sort of leather cover her forearms, and likely conceal more then a few different weapons. She moves rather slowly though, but it seems to be intentional. Her hair is the purest of black, tinged almost purple; a sharp contrast to her pale white skin. It was rumoured amongst some of her lesser warriors that she had the power to enthal a man from thirty paces with so much as a look. Her ruby-red lips sertainly added to the allure of her thin face, one which had obviously enthralled Rath, but to what extent she didn't know.

Smiling as went, only the soft click of her heels could be heard on the floor as she approached Rath's new throne. She new who used to sit here, and she knew full well what Rath had done to get where he was today. She didn't begrudge him that. She figured she'd do the same thing, if she had half the chance. She walked up beside the throne, and leaned in with her eyes closed.

"So my Lord, what news?" she whispered softly in his ear with her dark voice, so quiet that even his hearing would render it barely audable. She knew full well what news had come, but has wanted to hear it from him. She smiled darkly as she stepped back a pace and turned to face him.

Rath's head flicks towards Ri for a moment, the masque of his helm impossible to read for emotion.

"It has begun. The rogue faction is in turmoil. The Black Hand has not yet moved, though some of the lessers are scrambling to counter us. The Fleets have been dispatched to Mars, as we won't need them here."

He regards her for a long moment. "Have you readied your forces? Nascia will be here shortly."

Ri's smile vanished as the name of Nasica was mentioned. As Rath's daughter, she had to respect the brat, but that didn't mean she had to like her. Ri knew that Nasica had no respect for her, even less so after the dissappearence of her mother. Still, Ri knew she that they both had their uses, and that Rath would keep them both around for as long as he needed them, no matter how they got on.

"Excellent. And yes, they're prepared. What would you have me do?"

the dissappearence of her mother.

OOC: Must resist urge to gloat...

In any case, if word of this gets to me, I may just release Mieka in order to stir the pot...

((C'tan, you enjoy poking hornet nests, don't you?))

The jealousy on Ri's face is easy to read. Rath knows she can't help herself, she's a dark eldar. Passionate and wild, with emotion on the sleeve.

"What have you to report from our agents among the lessers?"

He gently sets N'wah Man to the side of the throne, so that his gauntlets rest lightly upon the wraithbone itself. The throne is pale white, and slightly translucent, and gleams in the harsh artificial light within the chamber. The gnarled shape must have taken centuries to grow and sculpt. It had been taken from one of the chambers housing an Avatar of Khaine, long ago, and left here as a symbol of Man'men's might.

"Are you ready to kill Vect?"

((C'tan, you enjoy poking hornet nests, don't you?))


OOC: Yes, now, If she could just be properly brainwashed, and sent with the Nightbringer (I don't actually care if he's lost in the web...) I'd have a plan... :idea:

"Kill, my lord? Would it not be much more pleasent to take him alive?" she smiled wickedly when she knew Rath would agree. Before he could start, however, she began laying out her plan.

"The simplist way to seize Vect is to have him isolated and surrounded. If we can sway his Incubi to our side, then victory will be ours. Even his household would crumble if the Incubi betrayed them, opening the warp gates for our forces to bypass all of their defences. Yes, an offer must be made. But what do we have, my lord, to offer then? Something that they'd want, something not even Vect can provide..."

"Leave the incubi to me. I will handle them personally, Ri."

Rath's imposing helm, with its scorpion-tale crest, turns towards her. The softly glowing red eye peices stare at her as if peering into her soul.

"I may permit you an escoret of Incubi, should you perform well in this matter. Our Kabal's final ascension to power rests upon the disposal of Vect and the fall of the Black Hand."

<TAG>

Inspiring...

The sounds of battle rage outside the stone hall; screams and gunfire and the howl of gravitic engines. Blood flows in the streets, literally in streams and small rivers where the fighting is fierce.

Rath's metal boots tick against the stones as he walks, a slow tempo that seems in time with the pulse of the fighting outside. The gran chamber yawns open at the end of the hall, dwarfing the gathered dark eldar within. Few are on hand to witness the ocassion, though they are more than enough.

Incubi in thier omnipresent armor flank the throne and doorways, while eldar in less formal attire linger in a broad circle around a chained and gagged man upon the floor. The crowd parts for Rath and N'wah Man.

"Asdrubael Vect, the legendary Lord of the Black Heart. Know that you are cast down as the useless are cast down. Death's Fist clutches Commorragh, now, and the Black Heart passes into memory."

Turning to address the Incubi, Rath says, "Give him to the Haemonculus."

Power, thinks Rath as he returns to the throne. So this was what compelled Mieka. Well, Rath would not make her mistakes.