Darkcity Jesters

"Pain is the only universal constant" – Urien

Perilus coalation and their truculent past

The first wave of Eldar was no match for Ozzy. The battle lasted a mere hour, but most of the Eldar managed to escape off planet. As they watched the last jetbikes dissapear over the horizon Ozzy ordered everyone to stand down. “They will be back, don’t underestimate them. We took them by surprise and they will be ready next time. If the rumors are correct, she won’t back down until they get at least a moral victory.” Frank laughed over the vox “HAHA. Whats your beef with her? And what’s the deal with all the pretty dudes in blue? Should have taken a picture for Drach to enjoy before his bedtime!” Ozzy sniggered but didn’t reply.

They garrisoned around the abandoned space station, some of the equipment still worked but the radar was down. Because of this Ozzy sent out Reavers to patrol the area so they wouldn’t get attacked by surprise. Frank and Ozzy sat down in one of the observation towers as the night fell across the dead lands of Rust. “Hey Oz, what was up with that Fab guy?” “Fabius? Well, a lot. He was once one of the Imperium finest Apothecarians, his black eyes once shined bright purple. One of the 3.rd Legions finest men. The Emperors Children wouldn’t have had their numbers without him.” “Sounds like a big time guy. What does he want with us?” So Ozzy told the story, the story that would shape their future in one too many ways.

“It was back in 796.M37, we, mine and Drachs forces went on a suicidal raid on a 3.rd Legion citadel. It went far better than expected and we took hundreds of slaves. One of them caught Drachs eye, no other than  Fabius Bile himself. Drach; who at the time was the leader of The Coven of the Thirteen Scars; was amused to hear Fabius brag about his nightmarish experiments. Even though many a Astartes had had their stomach turned just by hearing the stories, this was but the work of a novice compared to Drach and his millenia of wielding the scalpel. Together they built the living and breathing Tower of Flesh still standing today because of Fabius’ elixirs and runes inscribed in the walls. To reward him for his help, Drach taught him his lesser secrets, secrets never bestowed upon a human. This, of course, did not go down well with some of the other Kabals and Drach made sure Fabius made it out of Commoragh before he surely would be assassinated. In the millenia to come they have kept in touch and worked on projects better left unspoken.

Fabius’ dear friend Lucius uses the same drugs we use and is in great debt to Drach. Even though Lucius is no friend of the Dark Eldar, he has found our cocktails useful, and Drach is not one to turn down a proud addict. To repay his debts Lucius agreed to share some of the traitor legions gene-seed with Fabius and Drach for their next project. I ordered this project, the Noise Marines has always fascinated me, and to have some under my command would increase my chances to start a new Kabal yet again greatly. But, as things often go in projects like these, it would not be so. We created 6 specimens, technically Space Marines, technically Noise Marines, in practice something we had never seen, or wanted to for that matter. The combination of the corrupted gene-seed, runes and Drach’s drugs, left them mutated and uncontrollable. Drach would spend years reshaping them, replacing their once perfect organs with remains from battlefields and dead slaves.

After decades Drach thought he had gained control over them, but he was oh so wrong. In ways unknown they managed to escape Commoragh and were not seen for 2 years. Then, one day, Lucius got a report of Laer being present in the outskirts of their third biggest Citadel. Drach, Fabius and Lucius headed there and found the 6 specimens eating the xenos’ spines. They dared not approach them, but just watched them finish off the last of the Laer. The 6 fell to the ground and gave no sign of life. They were transported back to Drach laboratories. One week later they all woke at the same time, staring blankly and breathing heavily. They spoke as men, looking around, questioning only the chains on their hands and feet. Fabius was amazed, they spoke to him about their past, their time in the service to the Emperor and how they used to fight alongside Fulgrim. To this day we don’t know what happened with them, but we do know that the Laer was used to create the first gene-seed for making Noise Marines.

The 6 had one big weakness, even though just as strong, if not stronger, than their comrades, they would envy them. By now, they looked the same, but felt imperfect. Again, they disappeared. They seeked out the Keeper Of Secrets N’Kari on Gheistos and offered their lives and service to Slaanesh in exchange for the Princes perfection.  They were blessed, not in ways commonly deemed positive, but blessed non the less. They removed their body armour, and proceeded to cut their torsos thousands of times. They continued to bleed, but never bled out, the knifes went deeper and deeper until N’Kari made them stop. They were now deemed perfect in the eyes of She Who Thirsts and would now forever be in her debt, forever to make war on the Imperium, indulging in the resistance they would meet. Each bolter round would become a trophy on their skin and perfect their being. They then came back and joined Fabius’ ranks, loyal and determined to serve.”

 

Frank looked a bit baffled. “And I thought I was fucked up… I bet they don’t have tits like me though!” Ozzy sighed deeply this time. “You have yet much to see, but I think you somehow might fit in just fine where we’re headed with this.” Not much else was said that evening.

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Coma soul walking

3 weeks had passed. Frank had been introduced to many members of Ozzys crew, well, not crew, mercenaries who joined his raids from time to time. “Why haven’t we heard anything from Drach yet?” Ozzy ignored the question for the 15.th time this day. “Can we raid, like… anything?” Frank mumbled.

Franks withdrawal was making him very restless. Ozzy had denied him to use drugs outside of battle, resulting in Frank picking random fights in the street. “Fine! We’ll go see him.” They went to Drachs Palace and into his laboratories. Franks eyes fired up from just the smell and sound of the place. The general aura of misery and pain fueled his mood beyond what any measly street fight ever could. Body parts were hanging on the walls like trophies, the floor was sticky and the smell vile. Towards the northern wall the Wraithknight was standing, modified almost beyond recognition. Next to it, in a glass capsule the pilot was floating in a green liquid. “The fine Lady Maylis helped me with the cocktail. He’s alive, yet not conscious, yet feels everything, manipulated senses.” “Ha! Freak! What does that mean though?” Ozzy uttered. Drach admired his work and said: “Everything he knew is gone. Except the memory of his brother. Every sense he had is taken away. Except the pain only the mind can create. He will never die. He will never live again. This is art.”

Drach had done it, the Wraithknight was operable by anyone now. Frank wanted to take it to battle at once, but was strongly advised against it, as the maneuvering system was not perfected and still difficult to master. He told them to head to the southern parts of Rust to test it, the terrain was ideal and the planet had been deserted for ages, not even an Imperial recon strife had been done in 30 years. Drach whispered to Ozzy that he had to show off the creation to a friend of his while they were there, Fabius Bile. This was not good news, but had to be done, this weapon would change things for Ozzy and Frank from now on.

 

Ozzy had heard of military activity on the surrounding planets so he decided to bring a full crew for this training mission. The only confirmed rumor was that the Imperial Guard had showed up to Warrens End. He had his suspicions on what was going on, but took no chances. “Bring the Lances!” If at all possible he wanted to avoid this conflict and just get the walker up and running. Should they attack him though, he would not mind decorating their lumpy armoured vehicles with black polka dots, as he liked to describe it.

As they arrived on Rust Frank just ran off with the Wraithknight, shooting its Starcannons at, well, anything. He swung the sword around like a child would a wooden stick, while still maneuvering the walker masterfully. Frank seemed to have no issues. He jumped down from the cockpit and ran over to Ozzy: “Let’s kill us some M’urinz!!!” Ozzy giggled: “Calm down princess, how come you move it so perfectly?” Frank sighed. “It just does what I tell it to. I do have a terrible headache though.”

“You should be dead.” A voice behind them said. Ozzy just laughed, but with a bit of fear in his voice. “Fabius, I was expecting you tomorrow.” “A truly fine job by Drach  on this.” Ozzy and Frank took at step back while Fabius walked towards it. He attempted to climb the cockpit, but stopped halfway. “Ha! Bastard Eldar…” The psychic activity of the Soulstone in the hull was interfering with all of their heads, yet Frank seemed to be able to handle it better than even the mighty Fabius. He turned around to Ozzy, telling news that made no sense to Frank. The ‘plans were coming along’, ‘Drach will be expected to deliver’, ‘debts will be collected’, ‘great rewards for the loyal’ and ‘sacrifices will be required for Her’. He left them with one last message:

“You’re not alone on this planet.”

 

Ozzy sent out a recon and; because of the small size of the planet; quickly got a response: “She’s here. Lyanna  is here.”

“Aw shit, this isn’t gonna look good.” Frank knew little of history, but would quickly learn about how the Craftworlds believed that the Dark Eldar was the destroyer of this former Maiden world and its inhabitants. “We didn’t, I didn’t, but now I’m here again, with this… this… Wraithknight that we, well.. we… Wow, bad first impression.” Franks eyes turned purple again, he jumped up in the Wraithknight and screamed: “From now on, until eternity, this vessel will be known as Hummingbird, and today it will spill the blood of our past brothers!” Ozzy aligned the Ravagers and Venoms and followed Frank, who was jumping towards the horizon, the sight bizarre indeed.

 

Frank had of course no idea what a Hummingbird actually was. He couldn’t even remember where he had heard it. But non the less, he was absolutely sure it was one of the many foul creatures that lived on Terra. Frank used to tell stories about how the Hummingbird almost killed the Corpse God! Very few believed him, but several children got horrible nightmares. Frank would never learn what a Hummingbird actually was, but I think that is for the best. I’m looking forward to seeing this… foul creature, the Hummingbird do our bidding. ~ Ozzy

 

Meet your re-maker

After a pretty rough journey through the webway, Ozzy and Frank pulled up to Drachs dock.
He hated that name, but even Ozzy had problems pronouncing the name which he prefered. Ozzy and Drach had been friends for centuries, loyal allies with the same goal, yet so different in execution. Drachs palace was built in the style of old eastern Terran tradition. Dragons and some fat guy decorated every inch in green, red and golden colors. At the pompous gates they were greeted; well, not greeted, more like shouted at; by two guardian Talos. “What are you doing here disgrace?” They were both facing Ozzy, but their tail-mounted guns was constantly pointed at Franks face. Ozzy laughed, scratching the Talos’ tummy, “We’ve brought Drach a new toy.” They let them pass, screaming: “You better not call him by that name!”

Walking down the hallway the lights grew dimmer, the indescribable stench became stronger and the style turned more and more morbid. Paintings of vile orgies and brutal torture hang side by side. “Who is this guy?” Frank asked. “He’s the richest Haemy in all of the Dark City, the most brutal, unstable and sickest of them all. He’s also the best. Some say he made a pact with Slaanesh herself, fuck if I know.” One of the Kabalite carrying the Wraithknights pilot stopped and started vomiting. The stench was truly horrific. Ozzy stuck his leather glove in the pilots mouth, grabbed his jaw and dragged him down the stone stairwell to the basement where Drach was awaiting their arrival.

“Greetings young master Ozzy, I hear you stained my floor yet again.” Ozzy laughed like a pig getting slaughtered. “At least it was just blood this time!” They gave each other a hug, awkward of the sort. Ozzy going in like he wanted more, Drach like he was about to touch a woman. Apparently women wasn’t his thing. Drach gently pushed Ozzy away and ran his hand through his pale white hair, shrugging. “Who’s this?”. Ozzy looked confused at Frank. “Oh him? He wants you to make a Wraithknight work again, HAH!” “You both know that’s not possible without the twins souls being intact” Drach said. Ozzy looked down, then over at Frank, laughing: “What were we thinking? HAH, oh well, sorry to waste your time.” Frank didn’t dare to say much, but slightly raised his arm, pointing at Ozzys hand. “OH FUCK, that’s RIGHT!” He let go of the poor guys jaw, the pilot’s head slammed against the stone floor. Blood, teeth and torn skin.

Drach slipped his hand under the guys ribs, his metal nails tearing trough his skin, lifted him up, shook him and stared deep into his eyes.

“What name do you go by?”

“Yemil”

“Are you ready to be reborn?”

“I’m ready to die!”

“I will grant both.”

“Just kill me!”

“I won’t kill you, I will unmake you”.

Somehow Frank could feel what the Eldar felt. Drach was now literally massaging Yemils intestines. He had no energy to fight, to scream or interact in any way. “Bring me the vessel and it’s soulstone, my work starts now.” Drach shouted enthusiastically as he dragged the Eldar to his laboratories. Ozzy shouted “Thanx Drach, you’re a fucked up dude, but I like you!” Drach stopped, dropped the Eldar, and moved slowly against Ozzy. You could tell that Ozzy realized what he’d done, but he just stood there, accepting whatever were about to happen to him. Drach bit Ozzys neck, ripped the flesh off and ate it. “You should know better than calling me by that name.” Ozzy held his hand over the bleeding wound. “I’m sorry… Colon Complimentaris.” Frank could tell Drach was smiling as he turned his back and walked away.

“I’ve always hated that name. Even if we all chose ancient Terran names, he just HAD to take a latin one. I don’t even know what it means, but it pissed the fuck off a Blood Angel in a challenge once, said it was pissing on their pride. I call him by Drach for fun, he may make me bleed, but he’ll never kill me, I know his weakness, his secret, the only reason he’s alive.” ~ Ozzy

Empathy and revenge

Last nights events was nothing new to Frank. Many like him struggled to survive in Commorragh, they were the lower rank of Kabalite warriors, barely deserving of their name, as they were not a member of any Kabal. Two days had passed, Frank spent his time drawing pictures of the victims of his last raid, the walls were full of them. As his wounds was almost healed he signed up for the next raid, hosted by the Black Hearts. His hatred against them wasn’t enough to stop his need for funds and the sheer pleasure of soul-feasting.

Something seemed off this time though, the commander did not inform them on where they were going and support from the Black Heart was limited. The fleet was a special design by an infamous Archon called Ozzy, a quick hit and run force with only one thing in mind. As the fleet took off from harbour the others stood up and started yelling at the commander: “Where are we going? Why have we not received any orders? What is going on?”. Frank closed his eyes and tried as best as he could to close out their pointless whining. “This is just another raid, we might die, unfortunately we may not.” he whispered. Some of the other warriors heard him, gave him a disapproving look, but sat down, as Ozzy gave them no answers. The others followed.

The cold click sounded all around the fleet as the intercom was activated. Everyone but Frank reached for their gun as if something big was about to happen. The pilot calmly said: “…Prepare to downfall in 5 minutes, Target: sector 45 of Altansar, deploy only heavy weapons, never wander outside 1,5 clicks of commander ship. Approx battle duration 15 minutes. Only target: Eldar Wraithknight, goal: annihilate.” Everyone stood up; including Frank this time; staring with their dead eyes at Ozzy. Ozzy laughed. “What? You’ve been killing Necrons for weeks now, not up for the challenge?”. Half of the men threw down their weapons and left the deck, cursing the name of the God they all hated. Ozzy looked out towards the few who were too deep in debt to leave: “This… Machine, has a bounty on his head, given out by Vect himself. It’s the twins that slayed my brother Victor. You have been chosen to revenge his Kabal, Vects pride and at last… give you the biggest bounty you’ve ever earned.” Franks enhanced eyes turned from green to purple, this was it, this was where he could prove himself.

Frank ran up to Ozzy and requested to be on the front Ravager. Ozzy layed his hand on his shoulder and said: “You’ll be my right hand, I havent seen determination like this sense Victors last battle at the Cadian gate.” Frank had no reply, the adrenaline left him mute, determined to serve his dead master one last time. Planetfall was imminent, gripping his Dark Lance like it was a part of him. The battlefield was like nothing he had seen before. The Eldar had pushed back the Chaos and was on the brink of victory. The black dirt was covered with corpses, the blood turning the purple sand to a back scorched earth looking terrain. This sight made even more of the remaining crew to flee. Ozzy looked over at Frank, “Don’t worry about them, they are only here to prove a point, the recruitment ranks need higher quality, the Black Heart is only here to kill off the weak.”

A freezing chill went down Franks spine as the Ravager hit surface. Even he had never seen this many corpses. They had landed 1 click away from the huge monster, originally white and blue, but the battle had left him gray with strains of blood all over. “Truly an amazing creation!” Ozzy screamed as he turned the Ravager around and ordered everyone to ready their weapons. “First FIRE!”, it hit it’s torso. It stopped for a while, it’s crystal still intact, standing back up aiming its terrifying weapons against the Ravager. “Second FIRE!” he screamed as he fired his Dark Lance. A direct shot to the head, it fell over and the cockpits shell cracked. Ozzy looked down on Frank with hopeful eyes: “This is your chance, rise to glory. third FIRE!” Sweat was running into Franks eyes, the scar around his neck was itching like never before, his hands were shaking. The third shot left almost everyone on deck deaf. Ozzy bent down on his knees, holding his hands tight over his ears. “Did he hit it?”

Franks shot had only hit the right leg of the Wraithknight, but it was enough to leave it immobilized. Frank and Ozzy went over to inspect, Ozzy drawing his gun to deliver a final headshot to the poor pilot bleeding to death halfway out of the cockpit. “Stop!” Frank said. He dragged him out, pulled the glass-like shards out of his abdomen and patched his wounds. “You have compassion for this posh lowlife Frank?” Ozzy laughed. “No, but I know someone who can make his useless life purposeful.” Frank said, looking up at Ozzys demeaning look. “We’ll take him back to Commorragh and see what the Haemonculus can use him for.”

Ozzy summoned a bigger craft and ordered the Wraithknight to be transported back to Commorragh. He turned to Frank “This is beyond anyones grasp, we can’t use this for anything but puppet dolls in the arena.” Frank took off his armour, blood was running from his neck, chest, arms and legs. It wasn’t from this battle, it was pure body alterations made by his Haemonculus. “If I’m still alive by tomorrow, so will it be.”

“I know what my craftworld brother will have to go through, yet still, I want him to feel what I feel” – Frank

Frank

All alone. The abandoned house of Victor, the legendary Archon who died 4 years ago, had been empty ever since. The many hidden corners of the webway had proven useful for outcasts like Victor after The Fall. Even though all of Victors followers had abandoned their headquarters, Frank stuck around, waiting for the next great leader. Victors skull was still hanging on the wall. Macabre as it was, Frank would never part with it, no matter the price offered by even the wealthiest Haemonculus.

Things had changed over the last decades, even though Commorragh was filled with a wide diversity of broken creatures, the Trueborn still had the upper hand and used it for nothing but their own means. Frank was a gun for hire, but not for sale. Good as he was, many wanted him gone, several attempts made on life. Last nights raid had left him wounded, a deep cut in his neck. The Kabal of the Last Hatred had hired him, put him on the front lines, and left him to die as soon as they had gathered the corpses they desired for their atrocious rites. His only reason for survival was by a Raider, taking a last sweep of the area while blasting their Torment grenade launchers. The terrorized fools screamed in fear as the phantasm gas broke whatever will they had to live. Franks mutilated body was taken back, not because they cared, but for display and entertainment. After several hours in a comatose state they pumped him with experimental drugs and left him by his doorstep. He crawled towards the livingroom and tried to stand up. Limping over to Victors skull, his head derailed into immeasurable pain and everything darkened.

 

He banged his head at the cold steel wall. The room was dim and had a distinct smell of copper and warm bodies, just like it always was. The deafening thunder-storm, the screams for the streets below, he didn’t even notice, but the constant whispers in his head would make a sane man tear his ears off. Three more bashes, then two more. Dark purple blood-like liquid poured from between the crooked stitches around his neck. His deep grey eyes deluded before he passed out on the floor. Nothing but luck had kept him alive for centuries, now he longed for eternal darkness. Or freedom from past sins and debt. Or was it revenge? Hate, the hate, it grows…

Dark Eldar gone wrong

This is a blog for my Dark Eldar army. Battle reports, hobby progression and fanfic to come.