Author Topic: The Laughter Of The Dark Gods.  (Read 2198 times)

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Khorne

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The Laughter Of The Dark Gods.
« on: December 18, 2002 03:06 am CST »
This is not for those of you light of heart or stomach.... it may take me some time to finish it. Because i have to change class's DAMN SCHOOL!

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I will be showing new sections by showing you the divider so you know whats new and whats old.
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The Laughter Of the Dark Gods

By William King (no not me!) Blah blah blah i know this is not myn not calling it my own and i give all credit to william king.


  From the back of his dark horse, Kurt von diehl stared into the chaos wastes. A strange red haze hung over rainbowlike sand-dunes in a breeze.
 
  He turned To look down at Oleg Zaharoff, the last survivor of his original gang. The Rat-like little man had followed him all the way from the Empire through the steepes of Kislev to these poisoned lands at the edge of the world. Now their path led clearly out into the desert.
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  "Its been a long road" said Zarharoff, "but we're here". Kurt Raised his hand and shielded his eyes with one black gauntleted hand.
  He drank in the scene. Visions of this place had haunted his dreames ever since he had slain the choas warrior and claimed his baroque black armor and his runesword. He rubed the inlaid skull on his chest plate thoughtfully. "Aye. Here hell has touched the earth and men aspire to godhood. Here we can become masters of our destiny. I have dreamed about makeing my way to the utter most north, to the black gate. I will stand before great khorne and he will grant me power. We will return and claim my inheritance from the brothers who outsood me". He spoke as a man who did not fully believe, as much to convince himself as to convince any listener. He had his doubts and he pushed them aside. Had not the armor already granted him a measure of the strenght of chaos? He made himself savour thoughts of his coming revenge/ Soon he would reclaim his ancestral lands from the treacherous kinsmen who had banished him to the life of an outlaw. Guided by the call that had lured him across hundred leagues, Kurt nuged his steed on down the path. With a last look back towards the lands of men, Oleg Zaharoff followed him. Night came, A darkening of the haze that surrouned them, a flickering of a fearful stars in the sky. Far, far to the north a dark aurora danced, staining the skiy a deeper, emptier black. They made camp for the night within a ruined building surrouned by grasping, fungus-covered trees. "This mus have been a farom once, before the last incursion of chaos" said Zaharoff. Kurt Slumped down agianst a blacked wall and gazed over at him interestedly. Zaharoff was a Kislevite and knew many tales about the wastes that boreded his native land, none of them reassuring. "Two hundred years ago, when the sky last darkend and the hordes of chaos came, they say that most of northern kislev was overrun. Magnus the pious came to my peoples aid and the host was driven back. But chaos did not give up all the ground it had conquered. This must have been part of the over run land" He picked up something, a small doll that had lain where it had been thrown aside. Some freak of this strange land must have preserved it, Kurt decided. Sadly he found himself wondering what had become of its owner. Shocked by his own weakness, he tried to push the thought aside. "Soon the horde will march agian" he said " We will drown the world in blood". Kurt was startled. He had said the words but they were not his own. They seemed to have emerged from some hidden recess of his mind. He felt something lurking back there, he wondered if he was going mad. Zaharoff gave him a strange look. "How can you be so sure. Kurt? we dont really know that much about this place. Only waht you have dreamed- and that your armor came from here. How can you be so sure that we will find what we seek and not death?" The words echoed too closely kurts own darker thoughts. "i know i am right. Do you doubt me ?" Zaharoff threw the doll to one side. " Of course not. If you are wrong we have lost everything." "Go to sleep, Oleg. tomorrow you will need your strenght. Doubt will only sap it." Kurt laid his sword and axe near at hand and closed his eyes. Allmost at once he fell into blood-Stained dreams. it seemed that he climbed towards some great reward over a mound of ripped and squirming bodies. No matter how fast he went he couldnt reach the top of the pile. A long way above him something huge, with baleful eyes, watched his struggles wit amusement. The sound of scuttling awoke kurt. He snaped open his eyes and seized up his weapons. Looking across at oleg he saw his companion was gazing around in fear. "They come" he said. Zarhoff noded. Von Diel arose and made towards the entrance. Before he reached it, he saw his way was barred by small beared figures clad in dark-painted armor and clutching axed and hammers. Their skins were green or white as the bellies of fish from some underground pool. They were the height of children but as broad as a strong man. Kurt knew they were dwarfs-but seduced to the path of chaos. "khorne has provieded us with a sacifice" said the leader in a voice as deep as a mine. Kurt beheaded him with one swift stroke, then lept among them, strikeing right and left with sword and axe. "blood for the blood god!" he cried, bellowing out the warcry which echoed through his dreams. "skulls for the skull throne!" He ploughed into the dwarfs like a malarkey through waves. Behiend him he left a train of red havoc. Small Figures fell clutching stumps of arms, trying to hold in place jaws that had been sheared from their faces. Kurt felt unholy joy surge through him, searing through his veins like sweetest poisin. It seeped into him from his armor. With every death he felt a little stronger, a little happeier mad mirth bubbled through him, insane laughter frothed from his lips. He had felt a pale foretaste of this madness in previous battles but here in the chaos wastes, under the eerie moons, it was like nectar. He was drunk on battle. "Kurt, look out!" he herd oleg cry. He twisted and took the stroke of a hammer on his armoured forarm. His sword fell from numb hands. He saw what Zaharoff had tried to warn him of. Two masked and googled dwarfs were manhandleing a long tube into position, bringing it to bear on him. He punched the hammer wielder in the face, feeling a nose break under the spiked knuckles of hs gauntlet, then swung his axe back and threw it.The weapon went spinning through the air and buried its self in the head of the leading dwarf. The warrior fell backwards, the tube lurched skyward and a gout of flame erupted from its tip. A white hot sheet of flame blazed past kurts face. Something impacted on the wall behiend him. The building exploded, horses whinnied with terror.
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He turned to look at the ruins of the old farm. Everyone else did the samefor one breif moment. Kurt stooped and picked up his sword. The remaining dwarfs looked at him.
    "Chosen of khorne"", said the nearest one. "there has been a mistake. We did not realize you were one of the blood gods champions. Lead us and we will follow."
     He bowed his head to the ground. Kurt was tempted to hack it off, to continue the bloodletting, but he restrained himself. Such followers might be useful."
    "Very well." Kurt said. "But any treachery and you all die."
    The dwarf nodded solemnly. Kurt began to laugh untill red tears ran down his face. His Laughter died in his throut. He pulled off his helmet to check for cuts and he saw Zaharoff start, a look of pure terror crossing his face.
    "What is it?" he asked. "What do you see?"
    "Your face, kurt. its beginning to change."

  Kurt and his warband pushed on further into the wastes, seeking foes to slay and booty to plunder. Each day as they marched kurts face became more twisted, Mmore like that of a beast. At first there was discomfort, then pain, then agony, but he endured it stoically. The dwarfs seemed pleased, taking it as a sign that their master was blessed by the blood god. Kurt noticed that oleg could no longer look at him in the face.
   "What is wrong." asked kurt. They were standing atop a bute of wind-sculpted ebony, looking down at a landscape where crystalline flowers boomed.
   In the distance, far north kurt could see dark clouds gathering.
  "nothing, kurt.  i am uneasy. we have encounterd no one for days anda strom is comeing from the north. by the look of those clouds it will be no natural tempest."
   "come, oleg, you can be honest with me. We have known each other long enought. That is not what worries you."
  bah im done for now my hands hurt reallllyyyyy badddddd
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969 06:00 pm CST by Khorne »
When two remain, so does the war, one must fall for there to be a reckoning.

Khorne

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Re: The Laughter Of The Dark Gods.
« Reply #1 on: December 18, 2002 05:36 am CST »
Updated my hands hurt like fork but i shall push on and type more   :(
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969 06:00 pm CST by Khorne »
When two remain, so does the war, one must fall for there to be a reckoning.

Khorne

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Re: The Laughter Of The Dark Gods.
« Reply #2 on: December 18, 2002 08:47 am CST »
Updated again  ;D
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969 06:00 pm CST by Khorne »
When two remain, so does the war, one must fall for there to be a reckoning.