Post by Dracon Sotrak on Jun 14, 2005 20:31:46 GMT
The Dracon looked out from his ship. He readied himself for another raid on another pathetic human planet. There had to be something better than this. His race had been forced to raid and pillage for countless generations and nothing more. Was there ever going to be a great war of the Dark Eldar? One last Crusade to try and distinguish themselves on the history of the universe, one more great war, not with chaos or alien allies alongside, just his race.
He spat thinking, about the saving curse Vect had given them. To survive they had to be a pirate band, ransacking small out of the way planets on forgotten systems, pathetic. What happened to the great race that once stood like Gods as the rest of the universe was made up brutish Orks and primitive humans. The Necrontyr were a problem but never a serious challenge, the Star Vampires trying to emulate their own Gods, always failing, always massacring, always brutish. Never did they stop in their marching, just shooting. So basic, thought the Dracon, attaching his various blades to his person. He had never found guns appealing. They didn’t have the grace and they deathly silence of the blade. He observed the planet again. It looked liked it had once been a small farming planet, but the powers of industry that follow humans like dogs were beginning to take it over. Nothing had ever been built in the Web Way, or before it, that spurted fire and fumes. No. Humans were better dead. They would have to be destroyed as well. Plaguing galaxy after galaxy with worlds made up of steel and concrete, all for a rotting man in a chair. Why do they persist in serving this wretched skeletal heap? Who are they to try and command the universe when they cannot even govern themselves?
In the distance across space he could see the pulsing Eye, the hideous warp that held the one who had cursed him and his race. The Eldar believed that they could make a God to finally bring an end to Her? Fools. What good would that do if there is no one left to see the revenge? Nothing, but nothing, would stop her existence, no matter how the Eldar wished it to be. Living in hope was too dangerous. No longer was it us that controlled the universe, but shifting between the delusional Humans and the infernal powers of Chaos. The Orks were just existing, never getting powerful enough to equal the humans. The Tyranids, the brooding horde, masses of them, always needing new planets to feed. They were powerful and ever growing, continually troubling the Imperium. Would they once again reach the heights of old, to launch another raid like Ultramar? Who knew.
“Dracon.” The Dracon was stirred out of his thoughts by a Mandrake. “Dracon, we are ready.”
“Yes, yes. I will be down in a moment.”
“As you wish, lord,” said the Mandrake, bowing out the door. It was time to continue his curse. The universe was in a shambles, and maybe, just maybe, it would be the Dark Eldar who restored order. The likeliness was second to none, but the small bit of Eldar left in his soul lived in hope.
He spat thinking, about the saving curse Vect had given them. To survive they had to be a pirate band, ransacking small out of the way planets on forgotten systems, pathetic. What happened to the great race that once stood like Gods as the rest of the universe was made up brutish Orks and primitive humans. The Necrontyr were a problem but never a serious challenge, the Star Vampires trying to emulate their own Gods, always failing, always massacring, always brutish. Never did they stop in their marching, just shooting. So basic, thought the Dracon, attaching his various blades to his person. He had never found guns appealing. They didn’t have the grace and they deathly silence of the blade. He observed the planet again. It looked liked it had once been a small farming planet, but the powers of industry that follow humans like dogs were beginning to take it over. Nothing had ever been built in the Web Way, or before it, that spurted fire and fumes. No. Humans were better dead. They would have to be destroyed as well. Plaguing galaxy after galaxy with worlds made up of steel and concrete, all for a rotting man in a chair. Why do they persist in serving this wretched skeletal heap? Who are they to try and command the universe when they cannot even govern themselves?
In the distance across space he could see the pulsing Eye, the hideous warp that held the one who had cursed him and his race. The Eldar believed that they could make a God to finally bring an end to Her? Fools. What good would that do if there is no one left to see the revenge? Nothing, but nothing, would stop her existence, no matter how the Eldar wished it to be. Living in hope was too dangerous. No longer was it us that controlled the universe, but shifting between the delusional Humans and the infernal powers of Chaos. The Orks were just existing, never getting powerful enough to equal the humans. The Tyranids, the brooding horde, masses of them, always needing new planets to feed. They were powerful and ever growing, continually troubling the Imperium. Would they once again reach the heights of old, to launch another raid like Ultramar? Who knew.
“Dracon.” The Dracon was stirred out of his thoughts by a Mandrake. “Dracon, we are ready.”
“Yes, yes. I will be down in a moment.”
“As you wish, lord,” said the Mandrake, bowing out the door. It was time to continue his curse. The universe was in a shambles, and maybe, just maybe, it would be the Dark Eldar who restored order. The likeliness was second to none, but the small bit of Eldar left in his soul lived in hope.
[glow=red,2,300]Very well written.