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post #1 of 2 (permalink) Old 12-05-11, 11:02 PM Thread Starter
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Default Orobas

It was the uncomfortable chill of the room that brought Ashera out of her slumber and back into reality. When her eyes peeled themselves all the way open, she jumped back in both fright and shock, for the room she found herself in was not the same one that she came to rest in. All Ashera remember before she closed her eyes was that she lying down on her bed, weary from the long day debating with the Seer Council. But how she ended up in this abysmal room was a frightening mystery to her.

Ashera stood up and looked around the room, seeing that maybe the build of this cell would give her a clue as to where she was. Its walls she noticed were made of a polish black marble, smoother than any stone or material that she has ever known or felt. Its floor was that of the same as the walls, but yet damaged and worn out from what appeared to be careless maintenance, odd when compared to the other surfaces of eerie elegance. Across from her on the other end of the cell shrouded in faint darkness were two chairs and a small table, all three built out of metal in which boasted a wicked appearance. Other than those findings, the room itself was bare of any architectural hints that she was familiar with, a chilling realization.

With nothing else better to do, the young farseer slowly walked over to the chairs and took a seat, waiting for something to happen to put in optimistic terms. But yet it was not a moment later till something happened. Outside of the barred cell door, voices that which were rough and malicious talked loudly as if they were arguing. Ashera’s hairs on her neck stood erect as the voices got louder and clearer as they approached her cell door. She couldn’t make out a single word as to what they were saying, but deep within her mind she could tell that these individuals were not that of friendly nature nor weak in strength. As the two personages on the other side seemed to be at the height of their enraged bickering, a third voice entered the party, this time not malicious and boorish but charismatic and calm. The two loud individuals shut their traps when the third voice spoke, Ashera guessing that this might be a person of high authority and power.

Her skin began to crawl in silent terror as she heard a loud clang and thud by the cell door, fearfully guessing that these unknown visitors were about to join her, probably in a very hostile way. With a horrendous screech the cell door opened and in stepped a dark figure, the poor light barely showing a crude and ugly silhouette.

“I am so sorry for the lack of proper lighting Ashera, if I knew you were coming today I would have better accommodations for you in place.”
After the sound of a snap of fingers, the vents in the floor light up brightly with a red volcanic glow. It did its job to improve the seeing capabilities around her, but not by that much.

“So Ashera, would it be rude of me as to ask how are you doing?” The dark figure said as he pulled out the chair next to her and took rest right across.
Her blood began to flow dangerously fast as the figure leaned back casually, extending his legs out enough as so she could only see the feet. But yet they were not feet… but horse hooves.

“Forgive me for that, it’s just that I haven’t stretched out in a long time. My muscles have been protesting for some time for me to do that after this long day of dealing with inferior… associates…”

Those hooves, though only just a body part, glared right back at her in such a horrible manner that she almost felt compelled to scream bloody murder out of pure disgust. They were terrible looking, appearing as if they could be responsible for causing many deaths in unspeakable ways. But her undesired wish to scream dissipated when those hooves retreated back into the shadows as her visitor sat up properly, leaving her with only the thought of what other hidden disfigurements this visitor might harbor.

“You know what? I think it’s still a little too dark in this gloomy room. Just give me a moment to brighten things up…”

Ashera let out a blood curdling scream as the visitor finally vanquished the darkness in the cell.

“Is there something wrong farseer?”

Ashera’s bowls danced unpleasantly as she continued to stare at the visitor’s ugly black horse head, the hideous appearance almost too much for her extreme mind. Why was she instilled with some much fear she did not know. She has faced the demonic before, faced the sins of mortals incarnate and yet was able to face them steadfast. But this monster however was reeking of something worse, an odor that which was most foul and overwhelming.
“So tell me Ashera” the visitor said “how are you doing?”

She didn’t want to respond to this atrocity of a demon, but yet her lips and tongue rebelled against her desire to resist interaction with this thing.

“Who are you?...” She muttered.

“Oh forgive me, I am so sorry for introductions… My name is Orobas… And I have some very important matters to discuss with you.”

Those last words puzzled her. How was she in any manner part of this demon’s agenda?

“What is it that you speak of your wretch?”

“Oh let us not resort to name calling please… I have had a long day and the last thing I want to have is a foul conversation consisting of hate and fear… Now then, let us get back to business shall we?”

Ashera began to cold sweat, terrified as to what this business was.

“You see, your craft world holds a particular object that I need… something that was originally mine and I would love to have to back. So I am asking would it be so hard as to return it? I promise no tricks nor treachery in this act… just a simple return to its true owner…” Orobas politely asked.

What was this monster talking about? Why in Isha’s name would her craft world, an eternal enemy against all that is corrupted and tainted, hold such a cursed treasure? She could only tell by his attitude that this could only be a trick.

“I know, an eldar craft world in possession of an object of demonic origin seems absolutely ridiculous and absurd. But believe me young child, your world has one, and it is mine and I simply want it back. Is it that hard to believe?”

“What is this dammed object that you speak of?” She muttered hatefully.

“A particular amulet… one that contains a certain aura of great influence and essence… Trust me when I say your people have it, for I have seen them personally take it away from my grasp is a manner which I say was most rude. Now then, are you up for this simple task or do I have to do it myself?”

Those words rang out a message that she could not ignore: either she must comply or a greater act of genocide was in place. Logically one would choose to execute the prior choice, but even though she was absolutely terrified and intimidated by Orobas, she would rather die than work a plan with the corrupted.

“Tell me demon… what is it that is so important about your little piece of jewelry?”

“I knew a curious girl like you would ask!” Orobas laughed “It is an item that you need to worry about, just that it belongs to me. So are you up to such a simple task or do I have to send other servants to fulfill this? Your choice child.”

Ashera lost it.

“I would rather die than to participate with this scheme! Dealing with your kind hellspawn is nothing but ruin and I will not commit a traitorous act upon my people! I know what you are going to do I shall not lower myself to retrieve such an item! Besides hellspawn, any attempts to retrieve it are laughable and insane! No force from the warp can overcome my people and our might! Go ahead and try to get it, but you will only see failure in the end!”

Orobas leaned back and smiled.

“Very well then child. I shall do this myself. Be gone now! I shall see you soon…”

A bright flash of light followed by a heavy weight of forced slumber and before Ashera knew it she was on the ground, lost in the land of dreams and rest.

Ashera moaned in agony as she woke up, her eyes like before heavy and upset over this undesired and unnatural slumber. Once fully conscious, Ashera sat up and surprisingly found herself in her chambers once more, sitting on her bed as if this all a nightmare. But she couldn’t believe in such a simple conclusion, the terror felt and nightmarish sights were too vivid to simply brush off as a bad dream. But as she looked around the room, she noticed that her windows were shut. Curious as to why they were closed, Ashera walked over and with her gifted mind lifted up the wraithbone seals. But the sight she saw was not like before.

The landscape of her beloved world was ruined and stained with blood, towers and spires caked with ash and cinders. The ground and causeways below were in rubble and layered with the bodies of her kin. This sight, this genocide of her people sent her into hysteria like none other. She collapsed onto the ground and grieved uncontrollably, not only because her world was in ruin and dead, but because she was wrong and Orobas was right. She should have picked the task to do this by herself, choosing damnation rather than the sacrifice of her people. But her stubborn dignity and blind hatred of anything demonic made her choose the careless choice. She had only herself to blame for this bloodshed and traitorous deed.

Once the tears ran dry and empty, Ashera stood up and picked up the letter that appeared. She opened it slowly and read its dammed message.

“Hope you learned your lesson about being a selfish child… For as I said before, if you won’t do it, I will. But do not be that of poor spirit child… For I have another offer for you, one that will ease your deserved sorrow and pain… Just twist the dial to the left if you want salvation, twist to the right if you damnation…


Ashera looked upon the table and saw a strange device, one that had an ornate knob and two symbols. To the left was the mark of Slaanesh… the other was her craftworld banner. Her mind was too broken and full of shame to make another terrible choice and she knew there was only one way to fix her shame. She chose the left.

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post #2 of 2 (permalink) Old 12-20-11, 06:21 PM
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Default Hi

Overall, the story was fun to read, with a twisted hook at the end.

Grammar, spelling.

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
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