| Faces In The Smoke Part i; New Rebellion Story... | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: 31st May 2006 - 11:18 AM (256 Views) | |
| Matt | 31st May 2006 - 11:18 AM Post #1 |
|
News Elf of the Twilight Host
|
1. The prison cells of the Ivory Tower were the domain of Plaguelord Bassik Dwarfripper. The plaguelord himself was a master at many things, many different attributes that the Rebellion had never wanted to bring into this war. That was going to change. Bassik was a hulking warlord adorned with lesions that glinted like medals in the half light of the gaol. His eyes were two chunks of warpstone imbedded in a mind so sharp it was rumoured that Bassik never forgot anything. That was very unfortunate for the cell’s latest inhabitants: “Your food-food,” Bassik held it to his own mouth, letting a glob of saliva mingle with the foul smelling protein. Bassik held the plate out, his eyes transfixed on the small huddled creature in the corner, “what you-you quiet now? When Mallekha brought you down here-here you didn’t stop proclaiming your innocence, a-a rather funny little song – don’t you agree?” Bassik could feel the merchant’s beady, little, treacherous eyes glaring at him beneath the roughspun brown robes; he resembled a man-thing banner. Ironic, Bassik laughed to himself. “Lord Bassik?” a hard voice called through the metallic door of the cell. “Excuse me-me,” Bassik spat at the creature huddled in the corner. Bassik left, locking the cell. The clangour echoed around the walls for a second. The rat that stood on the opposite of the nitre clad walls was elegant in the extreme, dressed in a flowing emerald cloak, tied in a doubled bow around his neck. This was Warlord Brackenfurr, a political genius some said; a complete idiot was the choice description from others. “Has he-he given you any information?” Brackenfurr was increasingly impatient. Bassik could tell that the Warlord of Clan Meek had had even more terrible news. The war wasn’t going well for the Rebellion of Flames and Brackenfurr had more to lose than most. “Not yet-yet,” Bassik conceded, “You interrupted me as-as I was about to renew the interrogation. Lord Ix is the one-one who is going to break first, unlike Warlords,” at this Bassik inclined his head towards Lord Brackenfurr, “Merchants understand that they-they are no use to anyone dead.” “Well let us hope that he-he breaks sooner than we think, the Bitterbridge has fallen. Khornson’s hordes are bearing down on-on the tower and this little wretch may be-be our only bargaining tool. I take it you-you are going to administer a stronger dose this time?” “Yes-yes I am,” Bassik nodded, “so far the side effects of the dosage has been quite mild but-but soon the floor of that cell will be swimming in pus and piss and blood,” Bassik grinned rotten teeth, Brackenfurr looked smugly disgusted. “Warlord Ashenfur has-has said that you have been performing experiments on the other prisoner?” Brackenfurr’s eyes glinted with a hint of a plan. “Yes-yes, that prisoner is being worked on-on by Brother Skrot, he-he says that he is getting close to creating a virus that may cause just the pandemic that you-you are looking for,” Bassik paused, “the-the only problem is administering it-it to the victim, it must be injected rather than inhaled.” Brackenfurr looked somewhat broken by that statement, “how long will-will it take to modify it into a-a gas?” Bassik was amused by the whirring cog in Brackenfurr’s mind. He often wondered to himself what this creature was: master-mind or moron? Are they so far apart? “Brother Skrot still hasn’t managed to extract the-the virus so it is impossible to say, but by-by most measures I would suggest that Khornson will turn this place into a smoking pillar before we manage to convert it into a gas.” For a second Brackenfurr’s façade shattered exposing his worry, but only for a second. Brackenfurr smiled a gleaming smile, green from warpstone, “I am sure I can find a-a way Plaguelord, thank you for your time. You should return to your charge.” Bassik watched Brackenfurr disappeared into the labyrinth of tunnels that would eventually lead him to the Phoenix’s side. The plaguelord removed a leaden box suspended from a cracked leather belt around his waist. He grinned. It is time for your medicine Lord Ix. 2. Brackenfurr returned into the light with little more than a few nitre stains on his perfect attire. The warlord didn’t have the time to worry about how he looked at this moment; the Brotherhood had closed off escape due to the uncovering of their little plant. Brackenfurr recalled the many times he had called for the thorn to be removed but like a perennial weed it just kept growing back. Brackenfurr’s little world was caving in very quickly, it was time for even Clan Meek to make a stand. The news of Brother Skrot’s new virus had been welcoming to him but he knew that a gaseous form wouldn’t be available any time soon – that thought was worrying. Warlord Ashenfur could have used the new gas in his gas blowers – yet there was no need worrying over something he couldn’t change. Warlord Brackenfurr pushed open the heavy door to the Rebellion’s inner sanctum. Lady Niqueeka was tense; she was stalking around the chamber, her gait staggered and jumpy. “My Lady,” Brackenfurr’s voice echoed around the spherical room. This was the first time in moons that he had seen Niqueeka alone, every day now it seemed she had some new warlord to entertain in her bid to bring new blood to her war. “Lord Brackenfurr,” she smiled with sad eyes, “what news?” Lady Niqueeka had obviously heard of the Battle at the Bitterbridge. Her black fur, often pristine was now dull. “News that may change our fortunes in this-this war,” Brackenfurr played the emotions in his eyes. False hope was better than no hope. “Brother Skrot makes advancements as we speak, soon we should have a new weapon against them. Lord Bassik is certain that the merchant will crack under the strain of his unique methods of torture. I am yet to meet with Lord Ashenfur today but he reports that our losses at the Bitterbridge were not catastrophic. It is said that Warlord Stinkhair still lives.” “Is he captured?” “No, I believe he escaped, however he lost the relic he found in those excavations, the one that dated back to the time of Grey Seer Stopfen’s huge inferno at the place.” “Brothers Bassik and Skrot do us great service in the dungeons. Yet if our forces continue to die on the battlefield who will be left to fight their battle? Brackenfurr you know that we are fighting beasts and orcs and the undead. You expect us to claim victory when we are using glorified slaves?” something about Niqueeka’s tone made Brackenfurr wary. “What is it that you are asking exactly Lady Niqueeka?” Brackenfurr’s tone was cold. “I am-am saying that we all have to make sacrifices,” Niqueeka’s eyes looked sad, “I need the tokens you are creating from the City of Levels.” Brackenfurr was shocked. “Certainly,” he couldn’t control his tongue. He had to leave. “Excuse me while I make the arrangements.” Brackenfurr was a cocktail of anger, understanding, disappointment and maniacal joy. In the darkened corridors of the Ivory Tower, Brackenfurr fell back against the wall and closed his eyes. “Lord Brackenfurr?” a familiar voice asked him. 3. “Who are you working for?” Bassik’s voice was calm but firm. Ix barely moved from his huddled space. Bassik laughed. “Who are you working for?” Bassik’s voice was harsher. He slid the hinges of the ebony box open and withdrew a dangerously sharp looking contraption with a deep purple liquid shot buried beneath the metallic surface. Bassik pressed it to the creature’s pallid skin, skin that he had shaved for this humiliation. “Who are you working for?” Bassik pricked the skin slightly, watching a bud of blood perch on the clammy creature. He could smell the fear, the fear of the loins. He readied the needle to inject the fluid. “I…I was working for Khornson, the beast, he came to me, he did and his minions. There are others, he says there are others, but he doesn’t tell me. Don’t put that stuff in me; please don’t put that stuff in me,” Ix almost made Lord Bassik take pity on him, the wailing, the babbling. He was hard pressed not to laugh. Bassik smiled at the fickle merchant, “Thank you,” he watched Ix’s eyes brighten and his lips part into a smile. Bassik plunged the syringe into the soft flesh. He laughed as the violet liquid bubbled through the needle into his blood stream. **** The meeting was heated. Brackenfurr was in the middle of a tirade about his own personal income and how he expected the rebellion to use his generosity to its full use. Brackenfurr was trying to save face; he knew that, he was well aware of Niqueeka’s plans to use the City of Level’s vast accounts to her advantage. A master stroke in the war, that Brackenfurr had neglected to tie up. “…it-it seems I may have slightly overestimated the actual figure in my-my coffers, there is-is 10% less than my-my original estimate but there is more than enough to expand the Rebellion to her former grandness – as you can see I have-have been saving for a while,” everyone laughed a political laugh. “Now I shall pass you-you onto Plaguelord Bassik who has come to report a-a breakthrough with both the weapon and the prisoner.” Brackenfurr took a seat – a cat with sour milk. “We-we have the confession,” Bassik started, “Merchant Ix and most likely the other warlord was working with Khornson. I-I say when we march against the goat we-we tie him to the banner,” Bassik grinned. Morrik Ashenfur laughed obviously semi-supporting the idea. “Even Ix deserves a trial,” Mallekha the Overwhelmer, the original accuser of Ix interjected. He was preoccupied watching his nurgling children fumble across the ebony table, engaged in some primitive form of hide and seek. “I will entrust that matter to you-you then Warlord,” the Blood Vixen nodded in his direction. “Now we must deal with Lord Khornson and his beasts. Bassik I trust that you-you have a plan for that too…?” Lord Morrik Ashenfur sat up, war was on the cards. 4. The albino assassin twitched as he sat before the famous Warlord. “Quarrit,” Warlord Brackenfurr gestured, “you know that-that I have had you-you watching that creature in-in Nuln for the-the longest time now, while he readies my-my war plans? Well I need a rifle, a Hochland Long Rifle, it is of greatest importance. Remember if you fail me, I will kill you. Good day, you are dismissed.” “My-my payment?” “Yes, yes you will get your payment when you return. I-I have a small problem that I need sorted first.” “But I-I still get my payment?” “Yes you-you do.” “Just to-to make sure, I-I want half now.” “What?” “Half now, half later?” Brackenfurr turned away, reaching for a pistol holstered in his robes, “Here.” He said throwing a pouch at the table. Greedily the assassin reached for the coins. He had never expected a bullet of solid warpstone. The executed assassin sprawled on his desk. Brackenfurr looked disgusted. He stepped out into the corridor, “somebody clean up that mess and send me-me a competent assassin – I have work to do!” ____________________________________________________________________ Thank you all for eading, Please tell me what you thought, Love Matt xx |
|
Wise Words of the Rebellion: "When you run the gauntlet of the Rebellion of Flames, you must expect the unexpected" Warlord Morrik Ashenfur. "Why is it, that as a culture we are more inclined to death than songs?" Warlord Brackenfurr.
| |
![]() |
|
| daemonic badger | 31st May 2006 - 12:10 PM Post #2 |
|
Veteran/OAP
|
Nice The pace is picking up in the rbellion... and ill be chucked into the fray sooon enough
|
![]() |
|
| Thraskittar | 4th August 2006 - 04:22 AM Post #3 |
![]()
Shatterskar
|
Threadomancy alert! I just noticed this... And A. Why wasn't I informed of this fluff? B. After the assassination attempt, he was found by Greyseer Blink's acolites and brought to Blink's hidden lab C. Ix has a mettalic exo-skeleton and arm and would be quite able to take Bassik 1 on 1. D. If my character was infected with a virus then that would mean he's dead, which I would not allow... See why using other peopple's characters in fluff without permission is bad. |
|
W/L/D - Army 13/10/5 - Skaven 0/0/0 - Tzeentch DL ![]()
| |
![]() |
|
| « Previous Topic · Fan Fiction and Fluff · Next Topic » |









