The Time of Ending (Chapter Nineteen up)

[antique_nova]

Hibberyjoo: I know what you mean about fleshing out. But there are two different types of stories that you are talking about. Short and long, at the moment Skirax is concentrating on a moderatly short story, well chapters. But if he wanted to write a fleshed out story, well the material that he has produced so far could make it almost the size of the Ciaphas Cain omnibus or bigger - he has another large thread as well. most writers like to write short ones and when they become a little bit more serious, then they will produce fleshed out ones like the Imperial Fist's Great Crusade - it is also alot easier to write fleshed out chapters when your in a prolonged war.

 

However, i assure you that the next few chapters will entice you and produce such ground breaking fluff that just looking at it will make your heart race! :huh:.

 

thanks

antique_nova

[Skirax]

Thanks guys for sticking up for me! ^_^ Appreciate it :P

[raptor1199]

who would want to read about emperor walking two chapters from khorne to changer of ways -_-

but we want moar!

[antique_nova]

So when is the double whammy chapter coming mate? I think the mob have suffered on cliff hangers for long enough! ;). However, these next two chaptesr may make the readers even more impatient -_- .

thanks

antique_nova

[Skirax]

Chapter Eight; The Road is Ever Winding...

 

Isha ran through the smoke, the twisting worlds of this realm appearing to show her the way out, only to treacherously snap shut on her.

A distant voice chuckled, "Keep searching my pretty, there is never a way out," the words hissing as though spoken by a serpentine being.

Isha despaired as she realised that she may well be here forever. She cried with despair at the thought *what did I do to deserve this, I did not choose to tread such a damning path!* her emotions were strong and she exerted a psychic scream that vented her loss, her frustration and her tears.

 

Unfortunately, nothing ever goes unnoticed by the warp and the chaos gods. Khorne licked his lips at such terror and Tzeentch saw a plan begging to unwind itself, but Nurgle, Nurgle the bloated; the diseased one; the putrid and the vile. Saw such helplessness and pitied such a soul from the bottom of his rotten heart, however it was the only one who knew who could exert such a scream. Isha, the beautiful goddess of healing, fertility and the harvest - a perfect god to partner with for his loving diseases and toxins. The great diseased god licked his lips at the thought of such fantasies! A world shaking belch rumbled the palace walls as the diseased god summoned his beautiful putrid looking minions, Nurglings came in waves at his calling and the very floor began to shake with bloated vile forms of his generals – the great unclean ones. They all bowed in union and the great Nurgle god’s face showed its appreciation as several poxes burst into life over several scars on its masters mumble rotten body, “My minions, my children and my lovely creations! Today, we go on a righteous mission, to claim what is mine! To claim a soul from the ecstasy god and to defile its very name with pus, poxes and plagues!” His very voice caused the warty seed pods that grew from cracked branches of gloomy willows to drop, only for the newly formed plague bearers to hack their way out and join their vile demonic brethren.

 

The followers of the sickly god belched their praises and appreciations as their god bellowed out orders and moved forth from his throne and called forth his minions to make ready for war.

 

In the realm of lust, excess, pleasure, perfection and hedonism sat the titanic form of the chaos god Slaanesh whose form changes every so often from male, to female, to hermaphrodite or asexual, sat upon his glorious throne as his maidens caressed his body and oiled his beautifully smooth skin, then the great god stirred. His mind slightly turning and his heart pulsing faster as he heard the cries of his prisoner, *Ow Isha, my beautiful plaything, your time of pleasure will come and when it does I will…*. However, before the god could continue with its thoughts of fantasy and ecstasy, a vile smell reached his perfect nostrils. The mere spell made him sick and the thought of what was about to come disgusted the great god. The thought of his beautiful realm, fouled by disease and other vile forms of crap disgusted the god. His minions sensed his displeasure and they worked all the harder, placing more intense oils onto the perfect body of their master and danced more intensely on the floor that was littered with toys unimaginable to mortals and play things for the prince and his maidens’ pleasures.

 

The beautiful god brushed aside his servants and emitted a long soothing tone, such a sound would melt the minds of mortals and you turn even the most pure minds into insanity as their minds would be driven by emotions that bordered on intoxicating at their bodies pumped itself full of emotions and adrenaline. From the depths of the beautiful palace of Slaanesh to the far flung reaches or its pleasurable realm, creatures all beautiful and flawless turned their heads at the sound of their master’s call, “My creatures, my playthings, our enemies are approaching! They seek to claim what they believe is rightfully theirs, what is rightfully ours! Our land, our beautiful fields that is full of our darkish delights and unexplainable pleasure. Do not let them pass, do not less them pass into death; give them their dreams! Take from them their hopes their dreams and give them their wildest pleasures! Clear the vile, unclean intruders and give them the desired forms of eternal flawlessness! To dance we go! For pleasure we bring!

 

Deep within the palace of untold desires of unsung hopes, stood the form of Isha, her form graceful from the flowing silk that clung to her shapely legs and her once beautiful body that was now covered from freshly applied cuts over her exposed chest. She felt cold, she felt hopeless and she was lonely, her bruised arms horridly covering her naked torso as she heard the unmistakable whispers of footsteps. Her mind ran with saddened thoughts as she prepared his body and her soul for the coming torture. The door swung option and in came the flawless form of the dark prince, She who Thirsts, “Hello, my sweet darling” the sound flickered around the walls with such calmness before they entered the ears of his prisoner. The very words sickened Isha to the core as she showed her disgust and replied, “Do what you will, but know that you shall never have my pleasure” her voice bitter and slightly shaken, but only anger could be heard through her voice. The prince himself could only smile at such words; such hope would keep him pleasured while he fulfilled his darkest fantasies with such a beautiful figure. “In time my play thing, in due time we shall endure new fantasies and I will take you to places that you will have never dreamt of!” His face darkened as he stopped himself from carrying out his words as he turned the door that held his prisoner and moved gracefully to the field of battle to attend to his minions – leaving Isha to ponder on what cruelty and perverseness that the dark prince had in store for her.

 

Just beyond the Dark Prince's realm stood the army of Nurgle, the very air surrounding the beautiful realm was tinted with the smell of disease as its very appearance turned a to a hint of green. However, the fragrant fumes from the combined might of Slaanesh’s host pushed back the putrid fumes and the very sight of daemonettes draped in electric shades, whites and pastels silks that left their right side of their chest uncovered, while items of jewelry bearing erotic motifs hanged from their slender frames caused the diseased ones to dribble in droves as their perverted minds began to exercise their imagination. It was not until the Dark Prince chose to reveal himself that the minions of Nurgle went into an incontrollable fit of ecstasy and pleasure as their minds overloaded and their senses were melted at the very sight of the flawless god. “Where is your god!” Boomed the titanic figure, the vile army in front of him fell silent – save the occasional popping of warts and belching that accompanied the putrid horde.

 

Pushing and shoving his way through the ranks of Nurglings to plague bearers, his mere form was the carrier of a million diseases, poxes and warts and more. He was a favored servant of his patron and its name was Scabeiathrax, “Give yourself up to the god of Mortality and morbidity and our god shall reward you well” his voice started to shake with the effort of standing up to a true god. The dark prince enrage at how a daemon, even a favored daemon of his demonic god-brothers could talk to like this! “All, such an option, we shall see how you resist our temptations and our offers” mocked the dark prince, “Yet, your god cowers behind its disgusting walls and vile appeara..”. Stopping midway through his sentence, the voice upon his lips died as he ate his words and the full fruit of Nurgle’s plans were laid bare. It was now Scabeiathrax’s turn to smile to reveal his broken teeth and vile drool,” Move forth, minions of Nurgle! We go forth to spread his beautiful diseases and to infect the clean, the pure and the lust ridden host!

 

Far, far away stood Nurgle and his colossal swollen sickly slimy ridden form as he moved through the first circle of Avidity, such a god could see through his own greed and that everything that he could possibly want lied in front of him and within his realm. The next circle, the circle of gluttony could not even offer a prize greater than the one that he eyed within the Palace of his dark brethren – Slaanesh. The third circle, circle of Carnality, however proved much more difficult as half of his followers fell to the trap of their perfect desires, which was to rule in Nurgle’s place, however the perfect desire of Nurgle’s heart lay deep within Slaanesh’s palace. The circle of Paramountcy, the forth circle, felt like home; it was as if the putrid god was back at home in his own diseased palace. The next, the circle of Vainglory was nothing more than a mirror of Nurgles own self as he struck posses towards the mirrors that showed his current form as he passed them while laying hatching poxes and Nurglings in his wake as he stepped into the final circle where the form of Isha stood in his garden, in a page. Her figure was slender; the silk cascaded off her attractive shoulders and slid down her shapely thighs and onto the floor where she stood naked and exotic before him. “Fill me with your diseases, change me into your desires and let me taste the toxins of your love!” her voice was bewitching, full of lust and full of love. It was only until Nurgle realised that she was but a dream and only managed to come to the fact that he had not yet fulfilled his fantasies of taking the beautiful god Isha into his realm of macabre paradise of death and pestilence.

 

Forcing herself to calm down, Isha regained her senses and felt better now that the cuts had healed themselves. However, what she didn’t know that something lay beyond the door, something immense, bloated and vile.

 

The dark prince’s face turned from glee to outright ugliness as the rage within him exploded and he jumped forth into the sea of pestilence and plunged his many talons deep into the disgusting form of Scabeiathrax, he twisted and turned his beautifully formed talons within the disease ridden corpse and found purchase into something that moved, that pumped the very life that this corpse relied upon. The bloated unclean one however was not pleased as the prince of pleasure roared his delight at ripping out the heart, among other organs, that powered the daemon Scabeiathrax and down fell the form of the bloated god’s chosen champion. The daemons who were unfortunate to be in the shadow of the great unclean one were crushed under its’ weight as it collapsed onto them and any other daemon unlucky enough to stray under the fallen champions rotting falling form. As quickly as he had slain the putrid prince, the dark prince disappeared back to his palace – as something dark and fearful floated within his mind.

 

Out in front of the bloated god, stood Isha; afraid and disgusted by what she saw. “Time to go sweety!” Nurglings dribbled out from his mouth as he spoke, the sight disgusted Isha even further and she was forced to keep her sick within her least it take over her, “You vile thing, diseased ridden corpse, I shall never submit to your ill and disgusting schemes!” her mind revolted at the sight of pox ridden smile that revealed drool that poured from between his broken mouldy teeth. “Now, now darling! I have something special in store for you. Now hurry along!” Shaking his finger at her as he spoke, Isha resisted but the touch of Nurgle drained her strength as she was engulfed within the colossal form of Nurgle.

 

The prince spat his disgust as he danced his way back to his palace and saw the trails of slime and recent helpings of pox that riddled his beautiful hall and down the path of his pleasure chamber. His eyes widened at the shock of what he would see when he reached the diseased ridden chamber and saw the acid dripping from the hole that the great god of pestilence had made as his exit point, what shocked him even more was that Isha was no where to be found.

 

Back on the battlefield where the daemonettes, seekers and the keeper of secrets now toyed with the minds of their defeated enemies, turned their heads as they heard the scream from their master that chilled him to their very cores. The princes personal maiden’s, who had only just arrived in his personal chambers where his throne resided, were the first to have their emotional senses overloaded as their seductive forms were contorted by the sounds waves that omitted them from the dark prince’s scream. Their bodies writhed in agony over such emotions that were incompatible with a lesser daemon as they exploded and covered the pox covered hall with their own bits and gores. The scene was grim and from the darkness of the hallway that leads to the prince’s personal torture chamber, shone the bright eyes of hatred and vengeance.

 

Back in the garden of Nurgle, thick sheets of buzzing swarms of black, furry flies litter the sky, and twisted, rotten boughs entangled with grasping vines cover the mouldering ground, beneath an insect-ravaged canopy of leaves. Defiled fungi both plain and extraordinary break through the leaf-strewn mulch of the forest floor, puffing out vile clouds of spores. Muddy rivers slither across the bloated landscape. At the heart of the garden; decrepit and ancient, yet eternally strong at its foundations, stood the form of Nurgle who toiled within his cauldron, a receptacle vast enough to contain all the oceans of the worlds of the galaxy, as he brewed his finest concoction and brought it before the glowing figure within his rusty cage. “Drink up, my sweet little darling!” his mind almost melting with the anticipation of his new found toy, “Never!” screamed Isha, her flawless face screwed up at the sight of such a foul mixture that lay within the vast cauldron. The vile god smiled even more as his hand gripped the lower part of Isha’s beautifully formed face.

 

Just the Plague Father's touch leant Isha a series of pock marks across her cheeks, his disease ridden finger causing her much pain. She writhed as he leered over her, and he began to tip the bubbling goo down her throat; the touch of the toxin-riddled soup burnt her mouth and caused her to scream out in pain. Her eyes widened until it seemed they would burst from their confines in her skull. Her tongue turned a light green shade, and her very eyes were riddled with the marks of disease. She felt her organs shut down systematically until only her heart was left, beating her infected blood around her failing body.

In a moment of pure madness she lashed out, knocking the tipped ladle from Nurgle’s grip, which flew across the cage and hit the cage wall; flecks of the liquid landed on the bars of the cage, which fizzled and popped until, where once there were steel rods, now stood an acid dripping hole. Isha who became aware of Nurgle screaming, could only stare in awe at the chance of escaping this hellhole once and for all.

 

But it was not to be as the putrid god himself filled the hole with his colossal form and carried out unimaginable acts which produced screams that covered all four realms of the warp.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, I would love to take credit for this monumental story, but the glory goes (begrudgingly -_-) to antique_nova!

Stand up and take a bow!

[antique_nova]

As a tribute to this story, Skirax stared off the first few sentences and i wrote the rest. However, the last chapter is very similar to one of his own as i felt that it was fitting to finish the chapter with one of Skirax's very own, with a few words changed -_-.

I would like to thank Skirax for his support and the trouble that he brought along when helped each other from our stories. I also remember the first time you asked me for help with this story, ahh the first story. Calgar dead, by unconventional methods! Brilliant as always!

thanks

antique_nova

[raptor1199]

that was after fall of eldar or something?

[calgar101]

Quite good but a lot of things could be shortened; you over explain most of the details.

[astartes88]

poor xeno..... not

[antique_nova]

This was a flash back to a time after the fall of the eldar. This chapter has a lot description because it's a flash back and they usually have more description than dialogues and action. The chapter was meant to show the uglyness of the warp and how cruel Isha's life was as a prized prisoner of the gods. So basically, it's just showing a fraction of the horrors of the warp that a human mind can imagine, in a way it's an unpleasant chapter, because of the setting. But i think it's produced the right effect.

 

While i was summing up Isha's life, Skirax was busy working on the main plot :).

 

thanks

antique_nova

[Dosjetka]

Wow...no that, that was...vile, disgusting, horrible, cruel, etc...yet I loved every single bit. There is a greata mount of detail and I think the detail really has it's place here! *bows to antique_nova* :D

[Sons of Horus]

uhm... yuck :D

[antique_nova]

Skirax: Pssst, the latest chapter is this one, not the one i pm'ed you! :jaw:, i am still finding mistakes!

 

I noticed something and i felt that the chapter missed something - a fight. So i added in two paragraphs to the chapter and a little extra for Nurgle's great escape! Skirax will edit the chapter later when he has time. But i will post up the newer version until he changes the first chapter 8.

 

Chapter Eight; The Road is Ever Winding...

 

Isha ran through the smoke, the twisting worlds of this realm appearing to show her the way out, only to treacherously snap shut on her.

A distant voice chuckled, "Keep searching my pretty, there is never a way out," the words hissing as though spoken by a serpentine being.

Isha despaired as she realised that she may well be here forever. She cried with despair at the thought *what did I do to deserve this, I did not choose to tread such a damning path!* her emotions were strong and she exerted a psychic scream that vented her loss, her frustration and her tears.

 

Unfortunately, nothing ever goes unnoticed in the vast waste of unpredictable energy that is the warp and the chaos god's domain. Khorne licked his bloody lips at the sound of such despair that rang within his hall of skulls and Tzeentch saw a plan begging to unwind itself in his ever shape shifting palace, but Nurgle, Nurgle the bloated; the diseased one; the putrid and the vile. Saw such helplessness and pitied such a soul from the bottom of his rotten heart, however it was the only one who knew who could exert such a scream. Isha, the beautiful goddess of healing, fertility and the harvest - a perfect god to partner with for his loving diseases and toxins. The great diseased god licked his lips at the thought of such fantasies! A world shaking belch rumbled the rotting palace walls as the diseased god summoned his beautiful putrid looking minions, Nurglings came in waves at his calling and the very floor began to shake with bloated vile forms of his generals – the great unclean ones. They all bowed in union and the great Nurgle god’s face showed its appreciation as several poxes burst into life over several scars on its masters humble rotten body, “My minions, my children and my lovely creations! Today, we go on a righteous mission, to claim what is mine! To claim a soul from the ecstasy god and to defile its very name with pus, poxes and plagues!” His very voice caused the warty seed pods that grew from cracked branches of gloomy willows to drop, only for the newly formed plague bearers to hack their way out and join their vile demonic brethren.

 

The followers of the sickly god belched their praises and appreciations as their god bellowed out orders and moved forth from his throne and called forth his minions to make ready for war.

 

In the realm of lust, excess, pleasure, perfection and hedonism sat the titanic form of the chaos god Slaanesh whose form changes every so often from male, to female, to hermaphrodite or asexual, sat upon his glorious throne as his maidens caressed his body and oiled his beautifully smooth skin, then the great god stirred. His mind slightly turning and his heart pulsing faster as he heard the cries of his prisoner, *Ow Isha, my beautiful plaything, your time of pleasure will come and when it does I will…*. However, before the god could continue with its thoughts of fantasy and ecstasy, a vile smell reached his perfect nostrils. The mere smell made him sick and the thought of what was about to come disgusted the great god. The thought of his beautiful realm, fouled by disease and other vile forms of crap disgusted the god. His minions sensed his displeasure and they worked all the harder, placing more intense oils onto the perfect body of their master and danced more intensely on the floor that was littered with toys unimaginable to mortals and play things for the prince and his maidens’ pleasures.

 

The beautiful god brushed aside his servants and emitted a long soothing tone, such a sound would melt the minds of mortals and turn even the purest minds into a state of insanity as they became driven by emotions that bordered on intoxicating and life threatening to their bodies as it pumped itself full of wild emotions and adrenaline. From the depths of the beautiful palace of Slaanesh to the far flung reaches or its pleasurable realm, creatures all beautiful and flawless turned their heads at the sound of their master’s call, “My creatures, my playthings, our enemies are approaching! They seek to claim what they believe is rightfully theirs, what is rightfully ours! Our land, our beautiful fields that is full of our darkish delights and unexplainable pleasure. Do not let them pass, do not less them pass into death; give them their dreams! Take from them their hopes, their dreams and give them their wildest pleasures! Clear the vile, unclean intruders and give them the desired forms of eternal flawlessness! To dance we go! For pleasure we bring!

 

Deep within the palace of untold desires of unsung hopes, stood the form of Isha, her form graceful from the flowing silk that clung to her shapely legs and her once beautiful body that was now covered from freshly applied cuts over her exposed chest. She felt cold, she felt hopeless and she was lonely, her bruised arms horridly covering her naked torso as she heard the unmistakable whispers of footsteps. Her mind ran with saddened thoughts as she prepared his body and her soul for the coming torture. The door swung option and in came the flawless form of the dark prince, She who Thirsts, “Hello, my sweet darling” the sound flickered around the walls with such calmness before they entered the ears of his prisoner. The very words sickened Isha to the core as she showed her disgust and replied, “Do what you will, but know that you shall never have my pleasure” her voice bitter and slightly shaken, but only anger could be heard through her voice. The prince himself could only smile at such words; such defiance would keep him pleasured while he fulfilled his darkest fantasies with such a beautiful figure. “In time my play thing, in due time we shall endure new fantasies and I will take you to places that you will have never dreamt of!” His face darkened as he stopped himself from carrying out his words, then exited the room and moved gracefully to the field of battle to attend to his minions – leaving Isha to ponder on what cruelty and perverseness that the dark prince had in store for her.

 

Just beyond the Dark Prince's realm stood the army of Nurgle, the very air surrounding the beautiful realm was tinted with the smell of disease as its very appearance turned a to a hint of green. However, the arising aroma that excreted themselves from the combined might of Slaanesh’s host pushed back the putrid fumes. The very sight of daemonettes, draped in electric shades, whites and pastels silks that left the right side of their chest uncovered with items of jewelry bearing erotic motifs hanged from their slender frames, caused the diseased ones to dribble in droves as their perverted minds began to exercise their imagination. It was not until the Dark Prince chose to reveal himself, that the minions of Nurgle went into an incontrollable fit of ecstasy and pleasure as their minds overloaded and their senses were melted at the very sight of the god's flawless appearance. “Where is your god!” Boomed the titanic figure, the vile army in front of him fell silent – save the occasional popping of warts and belching that accompanied the putrid horde.

 

Pushing and shoving his way through the ranks of Nurglings to plague bearers, his mere form was the carrier of a million diseases, poxes and warts and more. He was a favored servant of his patron and its name was Scabeiathrax, “Give yourself up to the god of Mortality and morbidity and our god shall reward you well” his voice started to shake with the effort of standing up to a true god. The dark prince enrage at how a daemon, even a favored daemon of his demonic god-brothers could talk to like this! “Ahh such an option, we shall see how you resist our temptations and our offers” mocked the dark prince, “Yet, your god cowers behind its disgusting walls and vile appeara..”. Stopping midway through his sentence, the voice upon his lips died as he ate his words and the full fruit of Nurgle’s plans were laid bare. It was now Scabeiathrax’s turn to smile to reveal his broken teeth and vile drooling,” Move forth, minions of Nurgle! We go forth to spread his beautiful diseases and to infect the clean, the pure and the lust ridden host!

 

Far, far away stood Nurgle and his colossal swollen sickly slimy ridden form as he moved through the first circle of Avidity, such a god could see through his own greed and that everything that he could possibly want lied in front of him and within his realm. The next circle, the circle of gluttony could not even offer a prize greater than the one that he eyed within the Palace of his dark brethren – Slaanesh. The third circle, circle of Carnality, however proved much more difficult as half of his followers fell to the trap of their perfect desires, which was to rule in Nurgle’s place, however the perfect desire of Nurgle’s heart lay deep within Slaanesh’s palace. The circle of Paramountcy, the forth circle, felt like home; it was as if the putrid god was back at home in his own diseased palace. The next, the circle of Vainglory was nothing more than a mirror of Nurgles own self as he struck posses towards the mirrors that showed his current form as he passed them while laying hatching poxes and Nurglings in his wake as he stepped into the final circle where the form of Isha stood in his garden, in a cage. Her figure was slender; the silk cascaded off her attractive shoulders and slid down her shapely thighs before falliing to the floor where she stood naked and exotic before him. “Fill me with your diseases, change me into your desires and let me taste the toxins of your love!” her voice was bewitching, full of lust and full of love. It was only until Nurgle realised that she was but a dream and only managed to come to the fact that he had not yet fulfilled his fantasies of taking the beautiful god Isha into his realm of macabre paradise of death and pestilence.

 

Forcing herself to calm down, Isha regained her senses and felt better now that the cuts had healed themselves. However, what she didn’t know that something lay beyond the door, something immense, bloated and vile.

 

The dark prince’s face turned from glee to outright ugliness as the rage within him exploded and he jumped forth into the sea of pestilence and plunged his many talons deep into the disgusting form of Scabeiathrax, he twisted and turned his beautifully formed talons within the disease ridden corpse and found purchase into something that moved, something that pumped the very essence of life that this corpse relied upon. The bloated unclean one however was not pleased as the prince of pleasure roared his delight at ripping out the heart, among other organs, that powered the daemon Scabeiathrax and down fell the form of the bloated god’s chosen champion. Those who were unfortunate to be in the shadow of the great unclean one were crushed under its weight as its colossal form threaten to collapse ontop of them and any other daemon unlucky enough to stray under the fallen champions rotting falling form. As quickly as he had slain the rotten champion, the dark prince disappeared back to his palace – as something dark and fearful floated within his mind.

 

Out in front of the bloated god, within the dark prince's personal pleasure chamber, stood Isha; afraid and disgusted by what she saw. “Time to go sweety!” Nurglings dribbled out from Nurgle's mouth as he spoke, the sight disgusted Isha even further and she was forced to keep her sick within her - least it take over her. “You vile thing, you diseased ridden corpse, I shall never submit to your ill and disgusting schemes!” her mind revolted at the sight of the pox ridden smile that revealed the drool that poured from between his broken mouldy teeth. “Now, now darling! I have something special in store for you. Now hurry along!” Shaking his finger at her as he spoke, Isha resisted but the touch of Nurgle drained her strength as she was engulfed within the colossal form of Nurgle.

 

The prince spat his disgust as he danced his way back to his palace and saw the trails of slime and recent helpings of pox that riddled his beautiful hall and down the path of his pleasure chamber. His eyes widened at the shock of what he would see when he reached the diseased ridden chamber and saw the acid dripping from the gaping hole that the great god of pestilence had made as his entry point, what shocked him even more was that Isha was no where to be found.

 

However, putrid fumes reached the great prince’s nostrils as he turned to look above, only to see filth of titanic proportions falling towards him, but this god was a god of speed when it came to combat and he dodged the mass the mast with ease – or so he had thought. The titanic filth laughed as it dropped from the ceiling into the god of ecstasy, colliding with the god’s smooth backside and onto the trail of slick and slime that he had produced earlier.

 

He screamed as the mass collided with his slender frame, the poxes from the filth gnawed at his skin and oozing juices that stuck to the filthy mass scared his very soul with its uncleanness. His back arched with the pain and disgust of the impact, but his mighty horns tore into the backside of the Nurgle god only to pop the bubbles that released a cloud of flies and toxins that stung the prince’s vision and robbed him of his sight for a few precious seconds. Such damage could be healed instantly by a god of the warp, but the pleasure god’s pride was cindered and in tatters as he turned around to see the revolting god sliding his way out of the prince’s palace and into its decaying realm – laughing.

 

All attempts in avenging his damaged pride became in vain as the palace shook with the tremors of the Nurgle god as he broke wind and moved further out of the prince's reach.

 

Back on the battlefield where the daemonettes, seekers and the keeper of secrets now toyed with the minds of their defeated enemies, turned their heads as they heard the scream from their master that chilled him to their very cores. The princes personal maiden’s, who had only just arrived in his personal chambers where his throne resided, were the first to have their emotional senses overloaded as their seductive forms were contorted by the sounds waves that omitted them from the dark prince’s scream. Their bodies writhed in agony over such emotions that were incompatible with a lesser daemon as they exploded and covered the pox covered hall with their own bits and gores. The scene was grim and from the darkness of the hallway that leads to the prince’s personal torture chamber, shone the bright eyes of hatred and vengeance.

 

Back in the garden of Nurgle, thick sheets of buzzing swarms of black, furry flies litter the sky, and twisted, rotten boughs entangled with grasping vines covered the mouldering ground, beneath the insect-ravaged canopy of leaves. Defiled fungi both plain and extraordinary broke through the leaf-strewn mulch of the forest floor, puffing out vile clouds of spores. Muddy rivers slithered across the bloated landscape. At the heart of the garden; decrepit and ancient, yet eternally strong at its foundations, stood the form of Nurgle who toiled within his cauldron, a receptacle vast enough to contain all the oceans of the worlds of the galaxy, as he brewed his finest concoction and brought it before the glowing figure within his rusty cage. “Drink up, my sweet little darling!” his mind almost melting with the anticipation of his new found toy, “Never!” screamed Isha, her flawless face screwed up at the sight of such a foul mixture that lay within the vast cauldron. The vile god smiled even more as his hand gripped the lower part of Isha’s beautifully formed face.

 

Just the Plague Father's touch leant Isha a series of pock marks across her cheeks, his disease ridden finger causing her much pain. She writhed as he leered over her, and he began to tip the bubbling goo down her throat; the touch of the toxin-riddled soup burnt her mouth and caused her to scream out in pain. Her eyes widened until it seemed they would burst from their confines in her skull. Her tongue turned a light green shade, and her very eyes were riddled with the marks of disease. She felt her organs shut down systematically until only her heart was left, beating her infected blood around her failing body.

In a moment of pure madness she lashed out, knocking the tipped ladle from Nurgle’s grip, which flew across the cage and hit the cage wall; flecks of the liquid landed on the bars of the cage, which fizzled and popped until, where once there were steel rods, now stood an acid dripping hole. Isha who became aware of Nurgle screaming, could only stare in awe at the chance of escaping this hellhole once and for all.

 

But it was not to be as the putrid god himself filled the hole with his colossal form and carried out unimaginable acts which produced screams that covered all four realms of the warp.

 

thanks

antique_nova

[raptor1199]

new one is better ^_^

[Skirax]

Yeah...

 

I'll post Isha's path to Slaanesh soon and then the Emperor's return to realspace.

[Custodian Athiair]

great overall :cuss i'm having trouble following when everything is set.

but i think i get it now ;)

i'm just having problems linking Isha to the story line (does it get mentioned eventually?)

 

thanks, keep going Skirax (i've read them all)

 

Athiair :P

[Skirax]

The timeline will become obvious next post, hopefully up on Friday.

[Skirax]

Chapter Nine; Beauty is Pain

 

Isha ran into the cloud, her blood up and her eyes afire with hatred. The being in the clouds laughed at her as she swatted at shadows and ghosts, the very world about her twisting and turning. She snarled, her beauty turning sour but for a moment, before smoothing out and forming once more.

'Such tasty beauty,' slurred the voice. Isha felt a clammy layer of mist settle on her skin, and she squirmed in it's grasp. 'Hold still, my pretty.' She felt a wave flow through her golden hair.

'Keep your hands off of me!' roared Isha, and the clammy layer fell off of her.

The air turned dark around her, and the skies fell down in a storm of iron shards.

 

 

Hope you liked the VERY short preview, and I knoe it's been a long time but I'll post the rest soon hopefully.

[Skirax]

Ok, I know it's short, but the rest should be up later!

[Skirax]

Chapter Nine; Beauty is Pain

 

The first feeling she experienced was a general itching... it crawled all across her supple skin, the wretched and ripped flesh knitting back together. She groaned, the feeling not painful exactly, but not entirely comfortable either. As her shape took form once more, she felt her blood vessels flood with the essence of life once more, and sighed contentedly as the flow of oxygen to her muscles was reborn anew, lifting the strain of holding her decrepit form together.

She lifted her head, and saw a golden sun burning down on her skin, tanning the pale flesh a rich brown. How long had she been her? she thought, and as if by command the sand around her etched out the words,

NOT LONG ENOUGH

She recoiled, the sudden realisation of a malign being watching her every move, even inside her head. She stood, and looked directly at the sun, ignoring the searing pain as her retinas were scorched. She stared intently, and as she looked at the roiling mass of gas, the orb dimmed until it was barely a flicker in the dark sky. A sneering face leered back at her from within the orb, and she walked backwards slowly, attempting to get away from the floating orb of nightmares.

But the further she walked, the closer the sun got, until it was right in front of her. The fire burned with as though it was alive, and despite herself, Isha reached out to touch it. The fire recoiled from her touch, thick beads of sweat slowly rolling down her forehead, and she pressed her hand further in until she came to a small sphere of cool liquid. Confused, she closed her hand around it to bring it out, but upon touching it, the ball exploded, causing the sun to fall apart. Wind rushed at her face, causing her hair to fly, the heat burning deep scars on her face. She screamed, the pain echoing across her body in a wave if shock. She slumped backwards, landing in the desert floor as everything went black. She stared at the sky, panting viciously, the scars on her forehead slowly stitching themselves back together. Her features began to pale, the effort of the last few hours having drained her almost to the point of complete blackout.

The wind began to blow again, this time swirling about her, directly above her head. She stood up, her charred hair blowing about her head, and a malicious face began to leer at her from the heart of the maelstrom. She face was etched with millions of deep and self-inflicted scars, from which millions of tiny daemons fell in droves.

The sand began to run with wind, landing on its wings and flying with it around her. She began to scream, lashing out with her roughened hands, clawing desperately at the mist. Isha ran into the cloud, her blood up and her eyes afire with hatred. The being in the clouds laughed at her as she swatted at shadows and ghosts, the very world about her twisting and turning.

‘Come, come, pretty,’ rolled a lazy voice. ‘You know, you put up a hefty fight, but you stand no chance against one of my power,’ slurred the distant voice, and a huge gust of wind knocked her from her feet and sent her sprawling across the sand. She snarled, her beauty turning sour but for a moment, before smoothing out and forming once more.

'Such tasty beauty,' slurred the voice. Isha felt a clammy layer of mist settle on her skin, and she squirmed in its grasp. 'Hold still, my pretty'; she felt a wave of pure disembodied power flow through her golden hair.

'Keep your hands off of me!' roared Isha, and the clammy layer fell off of her.

The air turned dark around her, and the skies fell down in a storm of iron shards. Many sliced into her flesh and cut her arms to ribbons. She cried in pain as the world imploded.

 

The daemons wrapped themselves around her, their breasts brushing softly against her skin. She wanted to turn and run, but a deep lust within her made her stay where she was, enjoying the depraved actions of the daemons before her. One began to softly caress the other’s lips with her own, and another slowly draped her long tongue across another’s bosom.

‘This is not what I wish for, Slaanesh,’ whispered Isha, though the words were lies.

‘Do not taint my ears with such lies, young one,’ hushed the God, who walked slowly over from its throne. Isha was stood in a tent like structure, the walls shifting and changing with every passing second. The floor was covered in all manner of rugs, some animal, and some human. Isha laughed inwardly at the weakness of the Mon-keigh, and a shy smile danced its way across her lips. Slaanesh came over to her, and put its forefinger softly under Isha’s chin, lifting the broken God’s head to look at it. It wore a mask of perfect gold and pink, a thing of beauty that portrayed the God’s most willingness to be beautiful in the eyes of all beings.

‘Join me, young one,’ whispered the God in Isha’s ear. ‘We could explore the darkest and most depraved corners of each other’s minds,’ said Slaanesh, before looking Isha deep in her eyes and kissing her tentatively on the lips.

Isha pulled back for a moment, thoughts racing through her mind at what was happening. She was facing the most difficult decision of her millennia long life; ignore the God’s false promises and continue the Spartan life that she had, saving millions from the diseases of Nurgle.

Or, give in to her darkest desires and abandon the galaxy for an existence of selfish indulgence.

And then she thought, is the galaxy grateful for what she did? Did they – could they – ever thank her for what she did? No. Instead, she had been abandoned long ago to a life of pain and misery. Well, enough was enough.

Isha looked Slaanesh deep in the eyes, and pressed herself against the God’s form in an embrace of pure ecstasy.

She screamed inside her skull as she realised the full horror of what she had just done.

 

 

 

 

Well, finally. Sorry it's been so long guys, but hopefully it'll have been worth it. :P

[calgar101]

Very good chapter and very good teaser! i am jealous of your abilities to make long chapters!

[Skirax]

Thanks, Calgar *gets out oil and sprays it on joints* There, that outta loosen things up a bit :P

[Skirax]

I'mm dissapointed ;) I finally pump out a story, and only Calgar comes along to read it! (By the way Calgar, I didn't mean it like, 'It's only Calgar')

[Skirax]

Chapter Ten Preview:

++Planet Wide Transmission++

 

This is Lord Castellan Creed.

 

Citizens of the Emperor, of Cadia, hear me now. Above the planet of the Cadian Gate stands the most powerful and largest Chaos Warfleet to ever enter Imperial space. The fleet is battering the space defenses, and a system wide retreat has been called. The Astartes detachment that held of the World Eaters at Arx has been called to the defense of the Cadian Gate.

 

But fear not, loyal servants of the beneficent Emperor! As we speak, Astartes reinforcements of the Imperial Fists are making the greatest of haste to rally the Cadian defenders.

 

Every man shall do his part.

 

System wide conscription has begun.

 

Every civilian shall return to their designated hab-block.

 

May the Emperor watch over us.

 

++Transmission Ends++

 

**

 

"SPARTANS! PREPARE FOR GLORY!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hope you enjoy the small teaser...

 

By the way, I recommend listening to this to get you into the spirit of the chapter. Don't listen to the music, listen to the words and you'll see what I mean.

[Simoleo-Brother marine]

I go away for *counts on fingers* 3 and a bit months, and this is what you do?

Skirax, it's brilliant!

Keep it coming mate :)

 

-Simoleo