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| Back to Map of Norsca | |||||||||
| The Rainach Mor Betrayal and the massacre of House Tournig | |||||||||
| The great rusted iron doors to the keep boomed thrice, and from out of the flickering shadows in the hall shuffled four hooded mutants, their filthy cloaks hiding horribly twisted features and eyeless faces of misery as they chanted their litanies to the dark Gods. With repulsive clawed hands they heaved the vast thone room door open on its gigantic creaking hinges, forged in the semblance of leering daemonic faces, letting in the dreery dusk light with the screams and wails from the corpse-choked city streets outside, as three brutish warriors entered. The first, draped in a huge wolfs skin cloak over heavy chain-link mail, bore himself proudly before his two muscular body guards, the three figures displaying their gold-platted beards on barrel-like chests latticed in white criss-cross battle scars. All were armed with heavy iron-forged battle axes slung at their sides and Norscan round shields were fixed to the backs of their muddy cloaks. | |||||||||
| As the three Norscans paced forward toward a raised throne at the end of the passageway, the two body guards eyes flickered left and right muttering to each other in their native Gh�idhlig tongue, trying to pierce the gloomy shadows in between daemon-scrawled pillars of rock for any signs of attack with unnease. Yet the taller warrior to the front held his gaze fixed firmly ahead, his piercing blue eyes gazing forth from under blonde platted hair and his bare skin covered in swirling tatooes of Norscan battle runes. Red warriors markings were painted on the flanks of his face in wolf blood and his head was crowned with a horned war helmet from the treasure room of House Rainich Mor. As they neared the obsidian-carved black steps of the blood-slick throne, the two body guards stood back a few paces and bowed while their their lord knelt before the dark throne, pressing his pams flat across his chest in sign of Norscan greeting. | |||||||||
| "You sent for me my lord" he said, bowing low and averting his eyes from the seated figure in the darkness before him. Two red slits of baleful light gleamed with malicious evil within the smokey darkness of the throne, from where a vast bulky armoured form could be seen dimly in the smoke that whisped thickly from the heads of skull candels set into the sides of each pillar. A spine-chilling chuckle issued from unseen crooked lips as the Dark Lord of Ghoblach Fortress looked down upon the warrior with contempt. | |||||||||
| "Ah, I see my loyal chieftain has returned from his wanderrings in the west." his dreadful slithering voice sent a chill of cold through the bodies of the three Norscans and their minds trembled in disgust at the sound from the unnatural daemonic throat, knowing that damnation was upon them. "I trust the spoils of battle are going well to the House of Rainich Mor?" | |||||||||
| The Chieftain grinned revealing chipped yellow teeth sharpened into pointed fangs. "Aye my Lord, the southern weakling slaves you granted my House gives us good sport in the pit fights, and the Kislev women are most... appreciated." | |||||||||
| Chilling laughter slithered down from the darkness of the throne, and from the shadows surrounding the hall there came the wheezing echoes of muffled laughter on either side from black armoured Ghoblach guards in the darkness, sending the chieftain's hairs up on the back of his neck in revulsion and fear. | |||||||||
| "Whome do you serve?" boomed the Dark Lord before him, eyes blazing. The faint creaking sound of weapon straps being grasped tightly mixed with the slithering noise of steel being drawn in readinness form the shadows around him sent a sudden wave of fear through the mind of the Norscan Chieftain. He knew that a wrong answer would not only ensure he and his body guard suffered a long agonising torture but also that death would come upon the heads of all his household. | |||||||||
| "You my lord." answered the kneeling chieftain solemnly "I fight under your command to honour my father and his father before him who marched against the southern Empire under your black banner" From within the shadows, the Chaos Lords' lips turned in a snarling smile "That is wise, you will lead your house well with such wisdom." he sneered "Are all of your House of this same will?" | |||||||||
| "Aye my lord, they follow my blood banner through swamp, fen and moor. For if they do not fight, they will have their cattle taken and their roofs burned, leaving their kin to starve and freeze in the winter for the wolves." spoke the chieftain, rewarded with a spluttering cackle of evil glee from the throne before him. | |||||||||
| The cackling laughter ceased as quickly as it had began, and the silence that followed was filled with brooding malice "And now..." the voice slithered into his bleeding ears "Now it is time for you to return your end of the bargain." hissed his chilling voice "Two moons past I sent servant riders to each of the nine houses of your land, demanding their allegiance to the Gods of Chaos and to pledge their warriors and loyalty under the command of Ghoblach Fortress. Seven, including your own, have wisely agreed." He hissed grinning in the oily black shadows. The Lords voice then changed to one of spluttering fury: "From the foolish Chieftains of Houses Tournig and Dundonell however, I recieved a different message..." | |||||||||
| As the Chaos Lord spoke, two hideous robed servants scurried forth holding iron-studded caskets, their wooden surface dripping with thick dark blood. Laying them at the feet of the throne, they opened the casket lids and stepped back. The chieftain peered down to see that the caskets each bore the severed head of a black warrior, their roughly hewn heads still encased in chaos armour bearing the mark of the dark Gods in dark blood. The chieftain knew then that the two houses that had refused the dark lords allegaince were now doomed because of this foolish insult against the powers of Ghoblash Fortress. He thanked his ancestors that his his advisors had told him to accept the allegiance, for he knew those caskets would soon hold the heads of the two traitor clan chieftains. | |||||||||
| "The old ways must be crushed and their roots ripped from the land, for the world is changing and darkness looms upon you. Light shall be quenched and the Dark Gods will turn this world into a seething ocean of blood, and only the faithful will be granted eternal life. Those that do not bow to the Gods of Chaos wll suffer eternal agony as their souls are tortured in the seven hells forever!" he boomed with a sick chuckling noise behind his terrible words. "The foolish pride of your people in their independence will be the death of the clans." boomed the Dark Lord, carefully watching the face of the Rainich Mor Chieftain before him for any twitch of anger to his words, but saw to his evil satisfaction and pleasure only fearful submission. | |||||||||
| "It is sooth that seven Houses have the wisdom to embrace Chaos in their souls. Those who refuse the embrace of the dark Gods must be crushed and death will be only the beginning of their eternal misery!" | |||||||||
| "Aye my lord, Aye." muttered the chieftain of Rainich Morr. The chieftain of House Tournig was wed to one of his sisters, yet now she was just another traitor to be put to the sword. The survival of his house depended upon it, and in his heart he suspected that the Chaos Lord knew very well of his close ties to the House of Tournig. Doubtless the evil creature got pleasure from sending blood against blood. Gripping his will and steeling himself internally, the chieftain knew his reaction would be being watched carefully, and that if he gave the wrong impression of where his true loyalty lay, his doom would come quickly. | |||||||||
| "The traitors will be crushed! My warriors will put the houses of Tournig and Dundonnel to the sword! Their women will..." the Chieftain was silenced in mid battle speech by the dread voice of the Ghoblach Lord seated at the black throne before him. | |||||||||
| "Fool! Halt and listen" boomed the Dark Lord from the darkness. "By marching openly against the two traitor houses, it would provoke the other western Houses to join with them in rebellion against Ghoblach Fortress, my seers have seen it written in the cursed entrails." He spluttered. "Cunning and secrecy must be used, and your House will not go alone... Come." The dark lord turned in his throne and motioned from the darkness to his left. From the shadows strode three Norscan Highlanders armed with drawn broadswords gleaming in the bloody candle light. Seeing the Highlanders Tartan colours and the face of their leader, the chieftain of Rainich Mor leaped forward into a battle stance and spat in disgust at the feet of the three Highlanders. | |||||||||
| "Rhakk'Tuk! Anach' Breae'lchut ai' strand!" bellowed the chieftain of the House of Rainich Mor in the harsh Norscan tongue, his eyes blazing in fury and swiftly drawing his battle axe followed closely by his body guard as his hated enemies approached with a sneer of contempt and wicked grins stretched across the faces the Highlanders. Sneering with contempt, the Highlanders Chieftain mockingly bowed to the Chieftain of House Rainich Mor before him. | |||||||||
| "Greetings blood cousin, House Lethiad swords are with you." he said with a twisted smile at his hated enemy. Once this fool had been of service in destroying the traitor clans, the House of Rainich Mor would be next thought the chieftain of Lethaid secretly behind his twisted smile. | |||||||||
| "Mwu ha ha ha!" came a dreadful cackle from atop the dark throne, as the emerging chieftain and his two soldiers stopped a few paces away from the battle-ready chieftain of House Rainich Mor. "Pathetic fool! Do you think if I wanted thee dead you would still be drawing breath? Ha!" the Lord spat. | |||||||||
| "As I was saying young fool, to crush the traitor houses without starting a rebellion against the Ghoblach rule, secrecy, cunning and surprise must be used. Therefore I have allied you with the leader of your houses hated enemy; the Laethaid House. It is an alliance none of the other houses would suspect and it will be the instrument of their doom." | |||||||||
| "Your orders are thus" the Dark Lord continued, now facing downwards upon the two rival house chieftains of Rainich Mor and Lethaid. | |||||||||
| "Listen well for if either of you fail, both your deaths will be long and slow, and the last visions you will see will be your women and children being buned alive!" boomed the dark lord, sending tremors of terror down the spine of the two chieftains standing before him. | |||||||||
| "You, Chieftain of the House of Lethaid, are to feign an alliance with the House of Dundonnel against Ghoblach rule, stating that Norsca should be freed from the taint of chaos. I will give thee corpses of a score of my followers who have recently fallen in the north to quell their suspicions of the truth of your words." the Chaos lords eyes blazed with hunger and liked his pale lips with a long forked tongue as he spoke, seeing visions before his black helm of the betrayals and massacres to come. | |||||||||
| "To you, Chieftain of the House of Rainich Mor" boomed the dark lord, his blazing eyes swivveling to the first chieftain once more who trembled under the hot gaze" I shall give the flayed pelts of a dozen of my war hounds as proof of your war against the armies of Ghoblach. Take them with you to the house of Tournig. | |||||||||
| "Each of you shall hold feasts in your houses halls honouring your alliance with the chieftains of the traitor houses and their men." the Dark Lord hissed with malicious glee as he recited the plan of betrayal whispered to him by the Dark Gods. | |||||||||
| "Break open your casks of mead and place six drops from these phials into each barrel" the Dark Lord continued, as a hooded figure shuffled forward presenting an obsidian crystal phial filled with dark viscious liquids to each of the chieftains. "Make sure your men drink not from those barrels, for this poison acts swiftly open those who drink of it. A heavy weariness will fall upon the traitor chieftains and their men. They will be expecting a trick, as suspicion runs rife among the clan houses, and so my Ghoblach Sorcerers have divised this poison which has no magical trace and no distinct smell or taste that their clan rune priests may detect." As the Dark Lord spoke, the two chieftains eyes narrowed and their wicked grins spread across their faces as they thought of the murder, rape and plunder that would follow the betrayal massacres of the two traitor houses. | |||||||||
| "Once asleep, kill them all and send me the heads of the two chieftains in the very same caskets they foolishly sent me as the answers of their betrayal. While the feasting commenses, send your warriors in secret to the traitor houses. They will be supported by my troops sent under cover of darkness to the traitor houses." The Dark Lord knew very well that they would not need his wariors aid for they relished in slaying the enemies of their houses and had the men to do so if the traitor clan chieftains and their guards were disposed of. Their real purpose would be to ensure that there was no further betrayal from the chieftains before him. | |||||||||
| In his black heart and posessed soul he could feel the ancient power awakenning across the lands that had errupted suddenly three moons past in the far south east. The Dark Lord of Ghoblach Fortress knew not what the Dawi Zharr were upto in the Darklands, his spies had not yet returned from those ash-choked lands, but evidently they had delved too deeply and had awoken a power that had slumbered for eons. Whatever the cause, his black seer sorcerers whispered to him that great ancient powers from the time of the arcane engineering days of the Old Ones had stirred into life once more, one of which was pulsing in their magically-attuned hearts like a flesh-imbedded glowing ember, somewhere in the lands of Norsca. The Dark Lord had immediately started plotting dominion over the Norscan houses, planting seeds of hatred and corruption amongst the highland clans and sending them against each others throats like rabid hounds to make the conquest of Norsca easier for his armies. They were fools, easilly tricked and corrupted puppets in his evil hands, and their souls would writhe in eternal agony in the hells of chaos by the time he had finished with them. | |||||||||
| Thinking this the Dark Lord cackled from atop his shadowy throne looking down on the Norscans below him, and the laughter of the two chieftains joined in, each secretly thanking that their houses had the wisdom in swearing alliegance to the Lord of Ghoblach Fortress. To think that their own houses may have easily suffered the fate that the traitor houses would soon taste had they slain the messengers and refused allegiance themselves sent trickles of sweat down their spines. The two chieftains stood and nodded upwards to the Lord. | |||||||||
| "It will be done. Death to the traitors!" they said in unision, before turning and marching away from the throne towards the door, sending glares of hatred toward each other as strode away from the Dark Lord. | |||||||||
| Before the doors opened and they walked down through the twisted horror streets of Ghoblach Fortress, the booming voice of the Chaos Lord followed them with a last command: | |||||||||
| "Destroy everything... leave no man, women or child alive!" | |||||||||
| -SlythRa | |||||||||