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Prince of Commorragh

Man dies and is reborn as a Drukhari from the Warhammer 40k Universe watch as his story unfolds.

Clucky · Others
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14 Chs

Gaze from beyond

As the Drukhari warriors boarded their sleek, razor-edged ships, Alera's presence commanded authority among her wyches. They moved with a lethal grace, their armor adorned with spikes and blades that gleamed under the ambient light of Commorragh's eerie glow. The air hummed with anticipation, a volatile mix of bloodlust and elegant savagery.

Alera strode confidently towards her own ship, a dark vessel that seemed almost alive with sinister energy. I was in awe, taking in the scene's with my soul sense with a mixture of dread and fascination. The prospect of the raid ahead loomed large in my mind, coupled with the knowledge that this venture was as much about power and prestige as it was about survival.

Inside the ship, the atmosphere was tense yet charged with a strange kind of camaraderie among the crew. Drukhari warriors sharpened their blades and checked their gear with meticulous precision. I scanned those around my mother and could see the Astartes at the corner of the ship standing still while some Drukhari slashed at her sides.

Alera, who seemed contemplative as she gazed out into the abyss beyond Commorragh. Her eyes, betraying a hint of satisfaction and hunger for the coming conflict, scanned the horizon as if already envisioning the chaos they would unleash upon their enemies.

"Mother," I ventured cautiously, breaking the silence between them. "What exactly are we expecting to face in this raid?"

Alera, a smile playing on her lips that held a touch of amusement. "We'll be targeting an Archon who has fallen out of favor," she explained, her voice carrying a chilling certainty. "He's made enemies within and outside his own ranks. It's a perfect opportunity for us to not only assert our dominance but also to secure more resources and influence."

The Drukhari way of life, steeped in intrigue and violence, was starting to become clearer to me. Survival here meant constantly maneuvering through treacherous waters, where loyalty was a fleeting concept and power was the only currency that truly mattered.

As the ship hummed to life and began its departure from Commorragh, I couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline. The cold beauty of the webway stretched out before them, a labyrinthine network that promised both swift travel and unpredictable dangers. I could sense the world distort into a billion shades and I felt a connection with something beyond.

The journey was relatively short, but every moment was charged with anticipation. Alera and her warriors were prepared mentally and physically, honing their senses and steeling their resolve. I simply observed, feeling the weight of my new existence settle upon me with each passing moment.

Upon arrival at their destination, a bleak and desolate world scarred by war and corruption, the Drukhari wasted no time in making their presence known. The ship descended with predatory grace, landing amidst the ruins of what once might have been a prosperous city.

Alera and her warriors disembarked, stepping onto the blood-soaked soil of the planet. The air was thick with the stench of decay and the distant echoes of battle. He could sense the fear of the inhabitants, those who hadn't already fallen victim to the ravages of war or the predations of the Drukhari.

Alera's voice cut through the grim atmosphere, her words carrying across the battlefield with chilling clarity. "We strike swiftly and without mercy," she commanded, her eyes blazing with predatory zeal. "Let them feel the wrath of the Wych Cult of Venom."

The raid unfolded like a well-rehearsed nightmare. Drukhari warriors moved with lethal precision, their every strike a testament to centuries of honed skill and unbridled cruelty. I found myself swept up in the chaos, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer brutality of their assault.

I fought alongside my mother, my instincts sharpened by the urgency of survival. Together, we carved through enemy lines with ruthless efficiency, leaving a trail of carnage and terror in our wake. Alera's leadership was unquestionable, her tactics as ruthless as they were effective. 

While I was unable to give physical help I would call out to her when enemy flesh grafted monstrosities grew too close to my liking and could even slightly affect the projectiles launched toward her with my senses.

Amidst the chaos, I sensed the Astartes warrior they had brought along—a formidable presence clad in tainted armor, her allegiance uncertain but her skill undeniable. She fought with a savage grace, her movements a deadly ballet of destruction amidst the battlefield. Her wounds seem to only drive her further into a rage slaying beast after beast.

As the raid reached its crescendo, Alera's plan unfolded with brutal clarity. The Archon's forces, caught off guard and weakened by internal strife, crumbled before the onslaught of the Wych Cult of Venom. Alera's warriors relished in the screams of their enemies, their thirst for agony and domination sated for the moment.

Victory was soon to be ours, but I knew that in Commorragh, success was fleeting. The raid had secured us resources and influence, but it had also stirred the embers of greater conflicts to come. In the world of the Drukhari, where betrayal and ambition were as pervasive as the shadows themselves, there was no rest for us wicked.

Alera brought her forces to heel outside the serpentine tower, the last bastion for the damned Archon to hide. The Astartes sat bleeding profusely, unable to help myself. I asked "Why do you have such a warrior by your side mother?" She replied telepathically "Entertainment, I have most enjoyed breaking her in, besides she is not a terrible warrior even if she did serve that corpse god for as long as she did she picked up a few tricks."

"So she is similar to an extra pawn?" I continued "I suppose hardly even a pawn but regardless. Why the interest in such a weak fighter? We have plenty of beautiful Drukhari for you to cement your position in the future." She seemed quite confused. "Much better lovers than anything the Mon-keigh could produce." she laughed.

"Not for sex Mother" I sighed "I just wouldn't have imagined you could turn one of the Astartes to your side." she smiled "Oh they are quite resilient but once they break they are as good as done. I have lived long enough to find unique ways to break even the strongest of minds."

While our internal discussion was going on I gazed at a Drukhari from the Wych torturing the 3 guards left outside the tower. She was lithe and elegantly ripping flesh from bone laughing and giggling the whole time as she cut the male Drukhari's face into shreds.

"Scream louder!!! YEsss MORE MORE MORE MORE!" the woman continued as the man was convulsing from the poisons attached, his demise likely to happen at any moment. I could see the woman regaining some youth and vigor from the exercise. I've begun to wonder if my soul vision is normal or if it was also enhanced beyond regular Drukhari.

That's also the moment I noticed what looked like a splinter cannon pop out the window of the tower and obliterate the woman with the three guards in one blow before turning to the bulk of our forces.

"INSIDE NOW YOU WHELPS I WANT THEIR HEADS ON PIKES" Alera shouted walking unbothered by the scene to the entrance she was carrying blades and needles all throughout her body I could also sense what seemed like a bolter lodged under her armor. The doors opened and they walked up the wildly twisting stairs.

"Dumb bitch served right for taking those toys from us." I heard what seemed like a younger Drukhari mumble toying with her blades looking around while she danced into the tower. She tossed blades in the air and right before they left my senses they exploded killing what seemed like 3 Drukhari above.

Mother moved through the battlefield with an animal like grace every movement was a dance of untold beauty. She twirled and tossed serrated knives like a dance from hell. The blades always found their mark and it was as if the bullets from their weaponry simply glanced off of her.

"It's beautiful." I caught myself mumbling as she struck another monstrosity off the stairs and to its demise below. She giggled "I haven't had this much 'inspiration' in a while." She danced through the enemy ranks like a noble at a ball flesh fell from the tiniest of wounds she inflicted corrosive poisons working their way through their bodies.

To say I was enraptured was an understatement: hex rifles shot at us from all angles and despite it all she dances twirling elegantly through the air to the rhythm of war. The few shots that did land on our ranks simply made them fight even more tirelessly; they smiled and killed even more of the Archons forces.

All the while I could sense the change in my soul more clearly than ever. It was like every drug ever imagined: the bloodlust, the savagery, the smile as eyes popped out of sockets and screams of terror raged throughout the battlefield. In a way I knew I was in love. It was as if this universe molded me to enjoy the thrum of war.

Seeing the carnage only heighted my anticipation at being born. I yearned for this chance to fight for all that I was worth. While stuck in my ideations I sensed my soul growing even more than before. The combat around me seemed to slow. I could sense an ascension of my perception and even my body grew slightly more and my soul seemed to change color.

A vibrant sickly purple that felt more beautiful than any color I had ever perceived in my entire life. I felt if I were to draw on my soul I could truly begin to affect the world in a way far stronger than most. A gaze landed on me and I shivered harder than I ever have before.

Slaanesh was gazing and I was found wanting I could feel her try to wrap her mind around my soul she hungered for me life a newfound delicacy. I heard a whisper that sounded like every perfect melody. The sound so tempting , like a lover moaning or a performer singing.

"SOON" the words shook my consciousness. My soul flickered like a candle light. I could feel my perception darken and then the sensations vanished like they were never there.

"Ezdazar ?" I heard worry in her voice. I found this strange. Why did my mother, a Drukhari, care for me? It made so little sense but it seemed like it did all the same. "I'm okay. I could feed on some of the energy of the battle and it caused me to be a little disoriented mother." I answered with a weary voice.

I am a status symbol for her that should be all the value I have to her but she cares so deeply it's like my very being affects her in some way. I know I could be misreading it but my soul is sure she really does care for me. Was this some form of protection given to me by whatever sent my soul here? If so, why? And why is Slaanesh waiting?

Let me know if you guys are enjoying so far I am terrible at pacing and if you guys have any suggestions on how to do better let me know it's my first time puting this much effort in.

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