Marcaunon the Bloody

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Soulsmith
Dark Rider
Posts: 137
Joined: Wed Jul 11, 2007 7:30 pm
Location: Buckinghamshire, England

Marcaunon the Bloody

Post by Soulsmith »

here's some fluff of mine, didn't take long, I hope you like it :)

Marcaunon the Bloody

Marcaunon slowly watched as the small force of wretched human scum wormed their way into formation. Looking up, he could see the form of his banner rippling in the wind. His black hair did the same, the dark tendrils flowing freely in the breeze. It wound its way around one of his spiked spaulders, the armour red like the colour of the blood soon to be spattered upon them. The shouts of the humans, jeering at him and his noble Druchii occupying the hill brought a sneer to his cruel face. His captain on his right snarled, angered at the insolence of the soon to be slaves in front of his master. Pants and roars could be heard to his left, the mighty group of cold one knights, unfeeling in their armour, watching the humans closely, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to pierce human flesh with their cruel lances. The humans suddenly shrieked and stopped their cavorting as Marcaunon's beastmaster reared in his manticore, the fierce beast twisting uncontrollably, awaiting the taste of flesh. On his right, next to his unit were the corsairs, his main men, ready to take for their lord Malekith. Next to them were his warriors with crossbows, trained in the fierce deck-to-deck combat of the black arks. Two huge Reapers stood next to them, their bows pulled taught, ready to unleash their bolts into the enemy lines. Marcaunon's twisted smile widened as he viewed the barbs. At the edge of his line was a large chariot, again pulled by snarling cold ones. This was finally flanked by dark riders, ready to outflank the human's petty troops.

His captain looked over to him, awaiting the command.

'Ready my friend?' he smiled to the captain, his hand retrieving his cruel sword from its scabbard. His other arm reached round to his back and grabbed the graceful, yet brutal, shield.

'I am eager to torture and slaughter the foe my lord.' he said, his voice slightly muffled by his chainmail gorget.

'Tell the men to slaughter all who oppose us. Make prisoners from the weak.' he said monotonously, unemotional.

'Yes, Sire.' he grunted, his eyes betraying his smile. Suddenly Marcaunon's sword went up. The horn was sounded, the unearthly sound rippling over the battlefield. Mighty roars of beasts erupted as Marcaunon took the first steps towards the enemy. Slowly walking his pace increased. The Executioner's huge Draich's raised upwards as they pounded towards the foe with him. The ground shook as the cold ones ran towards the enemy, their charges snarling, huge jaws open, teeth hungrily displayed. The manticore lept into the air. Bolt's darkened the air as they neared the foe. A scream went up as the executioner's blades ripped through flesh and armour, tearing into the human warriors.

'For Khaine!' Marcaunon screamed, sending his blade darting through the throat of one human warrior, his shield smashing into another. Screams erupted as the unit to his left fled before the mighty cold ones, being caught and skewered mercilessly. Today, would be a good day.

++++++

Stars glinted above a blanket of smoke as the smell of burning flesh filled the air. The beasts had taken their share and the corpses were starting to smell. Marcaunon wrinkled his nose, his long black hair trailing in the wind as he entered the command tent. Inside his captain and a younger elf sat at a table. The table was a rough construction of black stone and metal. Upon it was a large helmet, conical like all Druchii helms, a chainmail gorget laying lazily upon the table. The crackling of fires from outside was joined by ones from inside the pavilion. They did little to drown out the moaning of the slaves.

'Tell them if they don't shut up I'll cut out their tongues.' Marcaunon said in disgust, the vile human barbarians worth little to him.

'Of course, lord.' his captain said, nodding, a smile upon his face as he left, his armor ringing, a metallic clunking sound as the chainmail rustled beneath it.

'So, boy.' Marcaunon almost spat the words.'What news do you bring me on the eve of such a sweet victory.' he finished, rubbing some dry blood of of his gauntlet.
'Pardon me sir, but beastmaster Ra'kalthar says that the beasts smell something.'
'Probably the humans.' Marcaunon snorted. Suddenly a scream ripped through the air. It sounded human.
'Oh now what!' he boomed angrily, grabbing his shield off of his back and drawing his cruel sword. As he pounded through the camp, a strong wind picking up, blowing smoke all around. Fires rippled in the blow, sparks jumping. Druchii were appearing from tents, all in different assortments of armor, awaken from their revelry. Each knelt down as Marcaunon passed, the mud chilling them and dirtying their clothes. That was little price to what would happen if they stood. They sighed as he moved on, grabbing weapons and anything else and following. More screams were coming, the sound of chains moving as the slaves shook their manacles. As Marcaunon approached the slaves, he noticed the commotion. One of the slaves, obviously dead by the amount of blood on him, was beginning to move. His eyes were rolled back in their sockets and he moaned softly. Another human screamed as it bit him, falling upon him and feasting.

'By Khaine's mercy.' Marcaunon swore as one of his executioners swiftly dispatched of the walking corpse. The flutter of wings caught Marcaunon's attention as he turned his sword swinging out. Above the camp he could see large bat-like figures fly past, a silhouette upon the moon. Suddenly action whirled around him. Flaming long dead corpses shambled towards them, the poor slaves a meat wall between the Druchii and the beasts. They went under, their screams filling the cold night.

'Get back in your grave!' he screamed, rushing towards the beasts as one neared, his blade disemboweling it as another fell on his shield, silenced when its head was removed by a quick counter attack. Lashing out, the dagger in his shield hand bursting through a skull, he spotted a black cloaked figure

'Wheres your master?' he questioned evilly, a smirk splitting his face.

C&C welcome
Forging souls anew....

Name : Ildren Vrak'nair
Height and Weight : 5'11, 85kg
Character Age : 164
Class: Warrior
(WS): 4
(S): 4
(T): 3
(D): 3
(I): 4
EQUIPMENT
Warrior: Long Sword, Shield, Light Armour.
SKILLS
None
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