Posted: Thu Mar 01, 2012 5:22 pm
Army Name: The Court of Ulrain Trisanth 'Heartseeker'
General: Dreadlord Ulrain Trisanth
Captain Lieith Fellsweep
Captain Kulath Diestan
Philosophy: We serve out Lord Malekith, the rightful heir to the Phoenix Throne and indeed the entire World.
Quotes:
Ulrain "Let them come, I havn't had sport in awhile"
Ulrain "The Fools think they are geniuses, and the Geniuses know they are fools"
Lieith " Must we go though this again"
Kulath "I already told you, gold, flesh then blood in that order"
Background:
Ulrain Hearseeker’s tale is one drenched in blood and gold, a tale of death and glory wrought in pain and death and to Ulrain’s own laughter.
Ulrain was but a young Master of Iceblood keep, living behind its high walls, shielded from Druchii society. Ulrain’s Farther, the Dreadlord of Iceblood keep, a man that even the Witch King watches closely, decided that his youngest son should join his brothers on a great harvest, ordering him to join his brothers on a slaving trip. After much protest Ulrain finally agreed and gathered his own retainers instead of trusting his Father’s retainers. Thus Ulrain set off to the World Old with Lietih Fellsweep and Sheleth Darkmane.
Avoiding the High Elf sea patrols proved easy for Ulrain’s fleet, the black hulled ships slipping easily across the water to the coast of Tiranoc. Landing swiftly Ulrain led his Corsairs’ in several swift assaults on towns near Ulrain’s landing. Quickly slaying those that stood and defended and enslaving those that cowered away.
As the defenders arrived they were greeted with nothing but empty towns and corpses of these defenders with their hearts removed from their chests.
Sailing away from Ulthuan will hold’s full of slaves and food stores, often the same thing, heading for the old world. Ulrain had a rage in his heart and few dared enter his cabin on his ship, The Horrific, save Sheleth and Lietih and even then every rarely visit him. Brooding alone in his cabin Ulrain plotted and plotted, but the one thing that was ever present on his mind was his Farther, Lord of Doom and Master of Evil, Ulrain would forever be in his shadow even if he returned with a successful slave harvest, something would have to be done, Ulrain thought.
His fleet neared the Old World and Ulrain stood upon the prow of his ship and breathed deeply of the air and a dark, sinister smile drew across his lips. He ordered his mages to shroud his fleet in mists and darkness and for the fleet to wait, for what he gave no sign.
Days past and Ulrain said nothing; he merely paced up and down the deck of his ship uttering not a word to anyone. Then one day he suddenly ordered three ships to make for the shore of the empire, The Horrific amongst them.
The ships swiftly made land and ordered his raiders to dismount, dozens of Corsairs, Cold One Knights and Dark Riders, Ulrain intended to make the men of the Empire fear his very shadow. His army rode fast, his Dark Riders moving up into nearby towns sowing fear and menace before the arrival of Ulrain’s army.
The first town to feel Ulrains wraith fell swiftly as did the second, the third town however was under the protection by a Knightly Order. Ulrain attacked at dawn, his corsairs leaping from building to building in feats of skill and daring while Ulrain’s Knights, Lieith amongst them, roared down the streets, mowing down all that stood against them whilst outside the Raven Heralds rode down any that fled. At the center of the town stood the Knights of Ulric’s Hammer and there with them a Templar Grand master. Both Cold One Knights and Empire Knights gave the other chance to think and both burst into a rampant charge clashing in a storm of lance and shield. Ulrain and the Master found each other and quickly took to a fight, the master was quickly outmatched by Ulrains skill and speed and his rune etched blade sliced though the Armour of the master whilst taking no wounds himself, protected by the dark magic’s of his pendant. With one final swing Ulrain decapitated the Knights Master and roared his victory before he fell upon another Knight. As the battle wound down Ulrain and his Knights were all that was left, their Armour dented and bloodied, Lances broken and swords chipped.
After that battle Ulrain always led his raiders against the pathetic defenses of men, leaving a trail of blood trailing the entire length of Empires cost.
As his fleet crossed from Imperial waters to Norsca waters his fleet came under attack, though no ships were lost Ulrain had one final battle in mind.
He landed his entire army, three ships at a time until his warriors were ready to march, warned by their dark gods the hordes of Norscans were ready to meet them. Ulrain had hoped for such events, he led the armies of the dark gods across the land before coming back a valley upon which batteries of Bolt Throwers were hidden.
The Armies Ulrain took up inside the valley, behind its mouth, spears and swords ready, Corsairs hidden on walls of the valley, clinging to the wall with wicked hooks. The Norsemen waited for nothing and charged at Druchii line, volleys from crossbows and Bolt throwers did nothing to deter them but felled hundreds of the warriors of the Dark Gods before they fell upon the Spears of the Dark elves. The Durchii never gave anything, from behind their spear wall they were safe and the valley below was chocked with Norsemen. The Corsairs pulled handbows from their cloaks and added more fire to the battle, felling hundreds of Norsemen but they seemed to care little for the fallen. The fight continued, the Norsemen attacking the steadfast spear wall while crossbow bolts, spear sized projectiles and Corsair Handbows were fired.
Ulrain watched from a distance, having commanded Kulath to take the bulk of his army and hold the Noresmen. His Knights standing alongside him as they watched the Norsemen pile into the mouth, sensing his time Ulrain ordered his Knights into a charge. They slammed into the rear of the Norsemen horde with devastating effect, the battle ended when the last Norsemen fell to his knees, his heart ripped from his body and the tall, slender figure of Ulrain ‘Heartseeker’ standing over him, laughing.
Following his victory over the Norsemen, Ulrain found his ships holds almost overflowing with slaves and treasure from the surrounding Noresmen villages. So much so then many caught slaves were merely killed for food because there was no way to hold any more, it was an utter fortune of gold and flesh, enough to replace his losses and more so. With holds full his fleet set back to Naggaroth amidst the wails and cry’s of thousands of slaves.
The journey back to the land of chill was simple and uneventful, much the exhausted warriors relief. Ulrain was beside himself; he felt the closest thing to joy a Dark Elf could feel.
The journey to Clar Karond was a slow one, the ships so laden with slaves and loot, but their arrival was anything but quite. Arriving at the Slave-master tower for the court of Malekith to take their share of the gold and slaves, Ulrain offered the chance for the crews of ships to take their share and enjoy the pleasures of the Slave city before setting sail again for Naggarond and his Fathers keep. With most of the crew passed out in Flesh houses or wandering the city, Ulrain stayed abroad the docked ship and dreamed of his Father’s bloody demise, but his Father already had a plan for Ulrain.
An Acolyte of the Temple of Khaine, known to the uninitiated as the Assassins of Khaine, had been ordered to kill Ulrain and display his ruined body to all that would defy Ulrain’s Father.
The Assassin made his way past the sentries and slew all on the ship effortlessly. Sensing his quarry to be near the Assassin moved into Ulrain’s cabin and found his quarry sitting, reading something. The Assassin drew he poisoned blade, utterly without sound.
As the Assassin struck Ulrain leapt forward drawing his black blade. The Assassin leapt onto the table and rained a flurry of blows onto Ulrain. With great effort he danced and deflected the blade of the assassin, desperately trying to defend himself, knowing a single cut, scratch or wound would mean almost instant death, he needed to be flawless.
The Assassin’s blade slide across Ulrains, with his free hand Ulrain struck out at the Assassins legs finding purchase and bringing the Assassin tumbling, but he righted himself the instant his hand touched the wood. Ulrain sung his sword in fine arc and twist his body and army to bring his sword back so not to overextend but the Assassin was like water, flowing around Ulrains utter Dark Blade with seeming ease. Desperation was mounting in Ulrains chest as he fought with the temple assassin in the small room. Ulrain swept his sword out in feign attack, attempting to draw the assassins blade, but the assassin knew better and instead attempt a deadly riposte to Ulrains throat. Ulrain had a split-second, a glimmer of hope, Ulrains gauntleted fist slammed into the Assassins unarmoured midriff. The Assassin had been so focused on Ulrains attacks he had forgotten about his free hand. Fazed and winded Ulrain hammered another blow to the Assassins face, sending him a surprising distance across the room. Before the Assassin could recover he felt an icy sliver in his chest, then the ice spread, numbing his entire body. Looking at his chest Ulrain had plunged his utter Dark Blade into his heart; the Assassin saw nothing more than Ulrains alabaster face in a learning smile of fury and hate.
With the Assassin dead and new rage in his heart, he called for his crews and lieutenants back and set off back to the gulf of Naggarond. His fleet cut across the steel-gray waters of the land of chill driving for Naggarond, seat of the Witch King and Ulrains own father.
The fleet landed without incident and Ulrain ordered the army to prepare to assault Iceblood manor the outside walls of Naggarond while he, Lietih and Kulath rode ahead to the manor.
Ulrain and his retainers arrived to see the gates to the fortified manor open to them, spears and crossbows lining the walls but no calls of warning went out. Ulrain and his retainers rode slowly into the mouth of the manor and in the courtyard stood the tall, alabaster figure of Ulrains father. Tall even for an Elf and clad in ornate sliver Armour etched with deep, blood red runes of power and his sword glowing with balefire. Ulrain stepped from his Cold One, his own black blade in his hand shield in the other. Father and son store at each other, Ulrain with the fire of hate and rage, his father regarded Ulrain with nothing more than cold disdain, looking upon him like he would a household slave.
The two paced around waiting for the other, it was many long moments before the battle began. Ulrain struck, flashing his blade in a feigned assault which was checked at the last second, but his father moved with an unnatural grace, effortlessly sidestepping the blade strike and swiping his sword in a wide arc. Ulrain was almost to slow to stop the sword stroke and managed his shield in time to save the blow. The shield shattered under the impact, breaking the bones of Ulrains army all the way up to the shoulder. Ulrain staggered back, fighting the rising white-hot pain from his arm. He unleashed a hail of blows on his father, their swords clashed in a flurry of multi-coloured sparks but Ulrain couldn’t make any blows land and his father was ready to riposte, Ulrain struggled for his life, fearing his death he fled for his mount but his father was like deathly spectre, rushing to his fore and launching an attack again sending Ulrain on the defence. His strength waning he called to his cold one to aid him, at the order the Cold one leapt to its masters aid. The beast moved quickly but Ulrains father turned and sliced at the cold one witch leapt nimbly back and presented Ulrain with his chance. Ulrain rushed at his father, barely ducking the swipe of his father and stabbed his black blade into the joint of the plates in Ulrains father’s armour.
His father’s eyes went wide, his mouth opened to speak but Ulrain silenced him with a headbutt. Ripping his sword from his father’s chest Ulrain cut his father head from his shoulders, It bounced wetly away as a roar of outrage and terror went though the soldiers of the manor.
General opinion of:
High Elves: The hated kin, misguided as they are they deserve no mercy for their treachery and bloated arrogance over their betters, No mercy.
Dark Elves: Those that follow the Witch king, by fear or faith, are the true rulers of the World
Wood Elves: Strange Elves, they may yet be brought back into the true fold, otherwise they must be burnt away
Dwarfs: Short, proud fools, they make excellent slaves and built our fortified cities and they will do so again
The Empire: A Nation of fools, they may one day learn to serve us
Brettonia: Worse than the Empire, they deserve nothing to be destroyed
Orcs and Goblins: Brutish, stubborn, powerful, once used as slaves but proved to much trouble, better to wipe them out
Lizardmen: the descendants of greater sires, better they die quickly
Vampire Counts: Vile undead that break the very laws of the world, wipe them out
Tomb Kings: Vile undead that break the very laws of the world, wipe them out
Ogres: Larger Orcs with a more ravenous hunger, let them starve
Skaven: A race to close to our own, perhaps the most dangerous, wipe them out
Chaos: Pawns to easily used
Beastmen: Vile creations of the warping power of chaos, wipe them out
General: Dreadlord Ulrain Trisanth
Captain Lieith Fellsweep
Captain Kulath Diestan
Philosophy: We serve out Lord Malekith, the rightful heir to the Phoenix Throne and indeed the entire World.
Quotes:
Ulrain "Let them come, I havn't had sport in awhile"
Ulrain "The Fools think they are geniuses, and the Geniuses know they are fools"
Lieith " Must we go though this again"
Kulath "I already told you, gold, flesh then blood in that order"
Background:
Ulrain Hearseeker’s tale is one drenched in blood and gold, a tale of death and glory wrought in pain and death and to Ulrain’s own laughter.
Ulrain was but a young Master of Iceblood keep, living behind its high walls, shielded from Druchii society. Ulrain’s Farther, the Dreadlord of Iceblood keep, a man that even the Witch King watches closely, decided that his youngest son should join his brothers on a great harvest, ordering him to join his brothers on a slaving trip. After much protest Ulrain finally agreed and gathered his own retainers instead of trusting his Father’s retainers. Thus Ulrain set off to the World Old with Lietih Fellsweep and Sheleth Darkmane.
Avoiding the High Elf sea patrols proved easy for Ulrain’s fleet, the black hulled ships slipping easily across the water to the coast of Tiranoc. Landing swiftly Ulrain led his Corsairs’ in several swift assaults on towns near Ulrain’s landing. Quickly slaying those that stood and defended and enslaving those that cowered away.
As the defenders arrived they were greeted with nothing but empty towns and corpses of these defenders with their hearts removed from their chests.
Sailing away from Ulthuan will hold’s full of slaves and food stores, often the same thing, heading for the old world. Ulrain had a rage in his heart and few dared enter his cabin on his ship, The Horrific, save Sheleth and Lietih and even then every rarely visit him. Brooding alone in his cabin Ulrain plotted and plotted, but the one thing that was ever present on his mind was his Farther, Lord of Doom and Master of Evil, Ulrain would forever be in his shadow even if he returned with a successful slave harvest, something would have to be done, Ulrain thought.
His fleet neared the Old World and Ulrain stood upon the prow of his ship and breathed deeply of the air and a dark, sinister smile drew across his lips. He ordered his mages to shroud his fleet in mists and darkness and for the fleet to wait, for what he gave no sign.
Days past and Ulrain said nothing; he merely paced up and down the deck of his ship uttering not a word to anyone. Then one day he suddenly ordered three ships to make for the shore of the empire, The Horrific amongst them.
The ships swiftly made land and ordered his raiders to dismount, dozens of Corsairs, Cold One Knights and Dark Riders, Ulrain intended to make the men of the Empire fear his very shadow. His army rode fast, his Dark Riders moving up into nearby towns sowing fear and menace before the arrival of Ulrain’s army.
The first town to feel Ulrains wraith fell swiftly as did the second, the third town however was under the protection by a Knightly Order. Ulrain attacked at dawn, his corsairs leaping from building to building in feats of skill and daring while Ulrain’s Knights, Lieith amongst them, roared down the streets, mowing down all that stood against them whilst outside the Raven Heralds rode down any that fled. At the center of the town stood the Knights of Ulric’s Hammer and there with them a Templar Grand master. Both Cold One Knights and Empire Knights gave the other chance to think and both burst into a rampant charge clashing in a storm of lance and shield. Ulrain and the Master found each other and quickly took to a fight, the master was quickly outmatched by Ulrains skill and speed and his rune etched blade sliced though the Armour of the master whilst taking no wounds himself, protected by the dark magic’s of his pendant. With one final swing Ulrain decapitated the Knights Master and roared his victory before he fell upon another Knight. As the battle wound down Ulrain and his Knights were all that was left, their Armour dented and bloodied, Lances broken and swords chipped.
After that battle Ulrain always led his raiders against the pathetic defenses of men, leaving a trail of blood trailing the entire length of Empires cost.
As his fleet crossed from Imperial waters to Norsca waters his fleet came under attack, though no ships were lost Ulrain had one final battle in mind.
He landed his entire army, three ships at a time until his warriors were ready to march, warned by their dark gods the hordes of Norscans were ready to meet them. Ulrain had hoped for such events, he led the armies of the dark gods across the land before coming back a valley upon which batteries of Bolt Throwers were hidden.
The Armies Ulrain took up inside the valley, behind its mouth, spears and swords ready, Corsairs hidden on walls of the valley, clinging to the wall with wicked hooks. The Norsemen waited for nothing and charged at Druchii line, volleys from crossbows and Bolt throwers did nothing to deter them but felled hundreds of the warriors of the Dark Gods before they fell upon the Spears of the Dark elves. The Durchii never gave anything, from behind their spear wall they were safe and the valley below was chocked with Norsemen. The Corsairs pulled handbows from their cloaks and added more fire to the battle, felling hundreds of Norsemen but they seemed to care little for the fallen. The fight continued, the Norsemen attacking the steadfast spear wall while crossbow bolts, spear sized projectiles and Corsair Handbows were fired.
Ulrain watched from a distance, having commanded Kulath to take the bulk of his army and hold the Noresmen. His Knights standing alongside him as they watched the Norsemen pile into the mouth, sensing his time Ulrain ordered his Knights into a charge. They slammed into the rear of the Norsemen horde with devastating effect, the battle ended when the last Norsemen fell to his knees, his heart ripped from his body and the tall, slender figure of Ulrain ‘Heartseeker’ standing over him, laughing.
Following his victory over the Norsemen, Ulrain found his ships holds almost overflowing with slaves and treasure from the surrounding Noresmen villages. So much so then many caught slaves were merely killed for food because there was no way to hold any more, it was an utter fortune of gold and flesh, enough to replace his losses and more so. With holds full his fleet set back to Naggaroth amidst the wails and cry’s of thousands of slaves.
The journey back to the land of chill was simple and uneventful, much the exhausted warriors relief. Ulrain was beside himself; he felt the closest thing to joy a Dark Elf could feel.
The journey to Clar Karond was a slow one, the ships so laden with slaves and loot, but their arrival was anything but quite. Arriving at the Slave-master tower for the court of Malekith to take their share of the gold and slaves, Ulrain offered the chance for the crews of ships to take their share and enjoy the pleasures of the Slave city before setting sail again for Naggarond and his Fathers keep. With most of the crew passed out in Flesh houses or wandering the city, Ulrain stayed abroad the docked ship and dreamed of his Father’s bloody demise, but his Father already had a plan for Ulrain.
An Acolyte of the Temple of Khaine, known to the uninitiated as the Assassins of Khaine, had been ordered to kill Ulrain and display his ruined body to all that would defy Ulrain’s Father.
The Assassin made his way past the sentries and slew all on the ship effortlessly. Sensing his quarry to be near the Assassin moved into Ulrain’s cabin and found his quarry sitting, reading something. The Assassin drew he poisoned blade, utterly without sound.
As the Assassin struck Ulrain leapt forward drawing his black blade. The Assassin leapt onto the table and rained a flurry of blows onto Ulrain. With great effort he danced and deflected the blade of the assassin, desperately trying to defend himself, knowing a single cut, scratch or wound would mean almost instant death, he needed to be flawless.
The Assassin’s blade slide across Ulrains, with his free hand Ulrain struck out at the Assassins legs finding purchase and bringing the Assassin tumbling, but he righted himself the instant his hand touched the wood. Ulrain sung his sword in fine arc and twist his body and army to bring his sword back so not to overextend but the Assassin was like water, flowing around Ulrains utter Dark Blade with seeming ease. Desperation was mounting in Ulrains chest as he fought with the temple assassin in the small room. Ulrain swept his sword out in feign attack, attempting to draw the assassins blade, but the assassin knew better and instead attempt a deadly riposte to Ulrains throat. Ulrain had a split-second, a glimmer of hope, Ulrains gauntleted fist slammed into the Assassins unarmoured midriff. The Assassin had been so focused on Ulrains attacks he had forgotten about his free hand. Fazed and winded Ulrain hammered another blow to the Assassins face, sending him a surprising distance across the room. Before the Assassin could recover he felt an icy sliver in his chest, then the ice spread, numbing his entire body. Looking at his chest Ulrain had plunged his utter Dark Blade into his heart; the Assassin saw nothing more than Ulrains alabaster face in a learning smile of fury and hate.
With the Assassin dead and new rage in his heart, he called for his crews and lieutenants back and set off back to the gulf of Naggarond. His fleet cut across the steel-gray waters of the land of chill driving for Naggarond, seat of the Witch King and Ulrains own father.
The fleet landed without incident and Ulrain ordered the army to prepare to assault Iceblood manor the outside walls of Naggarond while he, Lietih and Kulath rode ahead to the manor.
Ulrain and his retainers arrived to see the gates to the fortified manor open to them, spears and crossbows lining the walls but no calls of warning went out. Ulrain and his retainers rode slowly into the mouth of the manor and in the courtyard stood the tall, alabaster figure of Ulrains father. Tall even for an Elf and clad in ornate sliver Armour etched with deep, blood red runes of power and his sword glowing with balefire. Ulrain stepped from his Cold One, his own black blade in his hand shield in the other. Father and son store at each other, Ulrain with the fire of hate and rage, his father regarded Ulrain with nothing more than cold disdain, looking upon him like he would a household slave.
The two paced around waiting for the other, it was many long moments before the battle began. Ulrain struck, flashing his blade in a feigned assault which was checked at the last second, but his father moved with an unnatural grace, effortlessly sidestepping the blade strike and swiping his sword in a wide arc. Ulrain was almost to slow to stop the sword stroke and managed his shield in time to save the blow. The shield shattered under the impact, breaking the bones of Ulrains army all the way up to the shoulder. Ulrain staggered back, fighting the rising white-hot pain from his arm. He unleashed a hail of blows on his father, their swords clashed in a flurry of multi-coloured sparks but Ulrain couldn’t make any blows land and his father was ready to riposte, Ulrain struggled for his life, fearing his death he fled for his mount but his father was like deathly spectre, rushing to his fore and launching an attack again sending Ulrain on the defence. His strength waning he called to his cold one to aid him, at the order the Cold one leapt to its masters aid. The beast moved quickly but Ulrains father turned and sliced at the cold one witch leapt nimbly back and presented Ulrain with his chance. Ulrain rushed at his father, barely ducking the swipe of his father and stabbed his black blade into the joint of the plates in Ulrains father’s armour.
His father’s eyes went wide, his mouth opened to speak but Ulrain silenced him with a headbutt. Ripping his sword from his father’s chest Ulrain cut his father head from his shoulders, It bounced wetly away as a roar of outrage and terror went though the soldiers of the manor.
General opinion of:
High Elves: The hated kin, misguided as they are they deserve no mercy for their treachery and bloated arrogance over their betters, No mercy.
Dark Elves: Those that follow the Witch king, by fear or faith, are the true rulers of the World
Wood Elves: Strange Elves, they may yet be brought back into the true fold, otherwise they must be burnt away
Dwarfs: Short, proud fools, they make excellent slaves and built our fortified cities and they will do so again
The Empire: A Nation of fools, they may one day learn to serve us
Brettonia: Worse than the Empire, they deserve nothing to be destroyed
Orcs and Goblins: Brutish, stubborn, powerful, once used as slaves but proved to much trouble, better to wipe them out
Lizardmen: the descendants of greater sires, better they die quickly
Vampire Counts: Vile undead that break the very laws of the world, wipe them out
Tomb Kings: Vile undead that break the very laws of the world, wipe them out
Ogres: Larger Orcs with a more ravenous hunger, let them starve
Skaven: A race to close to our own, perhaps the most dangerous, wipe them out
Chaos: Pawns to easily used
Beastmen: Vile creations of the warping power of chaos, wipe them out