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Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
Origins of the Current Lineage

Dating back some time in the Imperial Calendar, during the time of the Von Draks, a small hamlet existed near the dwarfen stronghold known as Zhufbar called Neinabent (Nine-Are-Ben). This hamlet was a prosperous place enjoying the protection of the Dwarfs nearby paying them a levy of thanks whilst still directly reporting to the Von Draks in the castle of Drakenhof. The people of Neinabent were a happy people fuelled by help from the nearby dwarfs and prospered under the rule of the now defunct House of Valda.

The House of Valda disappeared from Imperial records just before the rise of Konrad Von Carstein. The few facts which have been recorded about the House of Valda was that they were a diligent house that treasured diversity and lavished in the richest of things as a reward for their ongoing support of the local dwarfs, and their welcoming of all traders great and small. One of the only recurring notes on record was that the Castle Valda was one of the few places in Slyvania which had not been hit terribly by the Great Plague or by raiding Skaven. Whether or not this is because the Skaven chose to attack the more tactically sound space of Zhufbar, or that the House of Valda were simply lucky, is a matter of conjecture.


Lord Valde

The last remaining records of the House of Valda also indicated several other interesting facts, including a strange occurrence in the Houses family history. The head of the house requisitioned a network of tunnels be dug connecting the Castle to the Dwarfen stronghold shortly after the arrival of Vlad Von Carstein and the appearance of another few small towns around the Black Lake. These tunnels were denied by the Dwarfs as they saw the need to strengthen Zhufbar after losing it to Goblins before and having to rely on Sigmar to help bring it back for them. This happened to occur at the same time as one of the Houses heads returned from paying homage to Vlad Von Carstein and his bride Isabella. Interestingly, the head who returned was burned at the stake upon his return for dabbling in the Black Arts. His burning was supervised by a strange young woman, a lover of the youngest noble of the House of Valda, known as Genevieve.

This is where the records of the House of Valda finish and the real conjecture on the rest of history begins. The most prominent tale is that of the youth, the bat, the dwarf and the knight

Supposedly, this was not the last anyone saw of the burnt Valda. Three whole years passed and nothing remained of the site but reports kept coming in of empty grave sites and large packs of dead wolves appearing where there should have been the howling of the night. The locals simply put it down to the wolfs slowly moving nearer to the Lake because of the new towns appearing. A fourth year passed and people began to notice villagers were disappearing too. At first it was not noticed as the people in question were nothing more than local vagabonds, however a small group of Dwarf Rangers disappeared while doing a routine patrol and search for treasure from Zhufbar and the wrath of Zhufbar fell sharply onto the people of Neinabent. The dwarfs withdrew their support of the hamlet and began to divide their riches and trade between the smaller villages developing on the outskirts of the Black Lake. The House of Valda could tolerate this no longer and the now ageing head of the house felt that there was nothing left to do but try and protect their family heritage by finding out what it was that had caused despair in his town and killed so much. The dwarfs of Zhufbar agreed to this on the basis that they be the first to see the results of the hunt, even sending along one of their Thanes, Rahrak Loadsmasher, the only survivor of the attack on the Rangers.

Two whole weeks passed in the Worlds Edge Mountains as Loadsmasher and the House of Valda felt they were chasing ghosts around. The House of Valda was fully prepared to give in and it was only the Thane that really kept them going. On the fifteenth day of the exploration, the search party believed they had struck lucky when they came across what appeared to be a battle going on. To the House of Valda, it appeared that a noble Knight of Bretonnia was battling against an immense and terrible creature, a large bat of descriptions that one they would have seen in their nightmares. Indeed, the mere sight of the bat brought the word 'Varghulf' to the mouth of one of the party. Watching in awe as the knight fought the bat, the great monstrous creature appeared to be getting the better of the virtuous warrior when they decided it would be best to intervene. In a peculiar twist, the dwarf shouted to the attacking party that they should beware the Knight more than the Bat, but it was too late.
Dispatching the bat with the simplest of dispatch, the Knight turned on the party and mercilessly struck down each of them in turn, only sparing the youngest of the current house because he had held back his attack for a few moments to see the outcome. The knight was one of the infamous Blood Dragons and had come in search of the great bat to hone his skills. It was during this time that the boy noticed as well that the bat was not a mere creature of the night, but it had his grandfathers heraldry on a small piece of clothing hanging from its back. It was then that Blood Dragon spoke to the teenager.

"You, child, are worthy and should not die in this manner."

The Knight had not seen Loadsmasher who struck like lightning and beheaded the vampire in one swift decisive blow, spraying the last of the House of Valda in blood. Loadsmasher approached the bat and examined its body, declaring it quite dead and attempted to leave. It was at this point he was shocked to see the last of the search party cradling the Bat in his arms. The youth knew that he had witnessed the Knight destroy his Grandfather and still felt a shred of loyalty to the beast. Infuriated the dwarf threatened to make the boy the same way if he did not follow Loadsmasher back to Neinabent immediately. The boy took his challenge. It was his last mortal act. The dwarf struck the boy cleanly, knocking him to the ground with a blow from the heft of his sword, then beat him with the hilt in the face cursing the Bat and the Dragon, whichever had killed his former squadron of Rangers. Feeling heavy, the dwarf left the youth and began to make his way back to Zhufbar to make them aware of what had transpired.

As the youth lay dying with his eyes transfixed on the sky, he heard a small sigh from his left, turning his head with his remaining strength, the youth noticed that the Bat was not there anymore, it was gone. Returning his gaze to the sky, the snout of the great beast was in his face and it picked him up by the scruff of his neck and bit into the youth slightly. A small wound appeared next to the ones caused by the Dwarfen sword and the Varghulf gave the youth a perved form of what Imperial Records came to know as the Blood Kiss. Not knowing what was going on, the youth passed out and believed it was the last thing he would ever do.

Three days later he was unceremoniously proved wrong when he awoke, cold as death and filled with the joy of the night. A great thirst gripped his heart and in one fell swoop he turned his attention to the only food supply readily available to him, the Blood Dragon. Its cold bitter tang still held the Dhar the youth needed to be able to gain strength and a strange vigour filled him, yet it was a cold vigour and this needed to be rectified. Searching for a way, the youth was greeted by the Bat once more, and in its maw it held the Dwarf, Loadshammer, who was struggling against the beasts great might. Dropping it, the boy noticed that the Dwarf was crippled by the Bat. Loadshammer burst into a flurry of curses in all the languages known to him, the only one the youth recognised was the word 'vampire' in his native tongue, to which he simply acknowledged and drank the dwarfen blood. Once again, the tang of blood was cold yet it was more fulfilling than last time, and the youth simply smiled as he saw the fallen sword, the same sword which had killed him. A grim smile crossed the youths features as he felt the swords easy weight in his hands. It was then that he beheaded the dwarfs corpse as the dwarf had done to the knight. With this act, the youth accepted his fate and returned to the town, leaving the Bat in the mountains for a few days.

Legend says that upon returning to Neinabent, the youth took up his seat as the head of the house and had ruled as his family always did ever since, not caring for the favour of the Dwarfs and letting the castle fall into decay. Anytime an emissary has come to the castle looking for a tithe or to try and negotiate with the House of Valde, the Emissary has been paid and had lavish dinners thrown in their honour. After five days the same thing would happen as they were wished on their way home with the Lord Valde (the very same youth) saying the following words on their departure;

"Please, go and see Grandfather, he would be most pleased to meet you."




Ninja Edit: More to come!
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Lord Valda looked out on the field of battle for the first time in a century as the Dwarfs of Zhufbar dared to venture into his land to try and demand levy once more. They had come to this place under the assumption that it was like the other townships which had developed around the nearby lake. Those mindless fools had listened to every word the dwarfs had said and even pointed them in his direction. It was their way of getting back at Lord Valda for his Grandfathers constant attacks on their cattle. It was almost certain they told the Dwarfs of the loss of their kin at the hands of the beast which they believed dwelled within the dark castle on the hill.

The dwarfs would soon see the real beast that lived in the hill.

As Lord Valda roared his defiance at the ranger patrol heading towards his castle, he knew that these were merely the vanguard of a larger force making its way through the hills, almost certain to arrive moments after their scouting kin. It was a simple trap and one Lord Valda had anticipated. His minions had told him of the battle of a thousand cannons which saw an army of might ogres felled thanks to the dwarfs and the empire. He did not want to fall for the same trap. As Morrslieb rose in the sky, Lord Valda knew that staying in his castle was inviting the artillery he feared so. After all, what better target was there for a cannon than the wall of a castle. Standing upon his battlements, Lord Valda addressed the dwarfs, his cunning mind working its magic as they neared the entrance to the castle.

“Foul masters of Zhufbar, I am Lord Valda and I stand before you today bemused. What brings you to my keep?”

A lone dwarf stepped from the rangers, their captain.

“Do not try and weave a spell of words on us. We have come to avenge our kin, Vampire.”

The final word felt painful in Valdas ears, he did not like to be associated with the pestilence of Sylvania and the Von Carsteins. He had seen their work and wished to be no part of it. That was why he had fled to these mountains.

“Very well then Dwarf, if you do not want to talk, then you shall feel my wrath.”

As the last word escaped Lord Valdas mouth, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, and looked down to see a bolt protruding from his chest mere inches from his heart. He fell back a few feet and to the Dwarfs it looked like the Vampire had fallen from the battlements. The reality could not have been further from the truth.

A roar of pain escaped the keep followed by an indistinguishable roar. The Dwarf patrol felt the ground shake at the second roar seemed to last a lifetime. One of the stout rangers fell to one knee as the full horror of what shook the earth revealed itself. At first they saw Lord Valda rise, laughing. A great flapping noise could be heard, and a pair of great leathery wings appeared followed by an enormous rotting head. Lord Valda leapt onto the creature with un-natural quickness. The dwarfs swore new oaths as they were greeted by a zombie dragon. Its decaying head was mocking them as it flew in the sky. The ranger captain could not contain himself any longer.

“Open fire my kin.”

Crossbow bolts flew into the air but none of them could reach the great rotting wyrm. The air around the dwarfs began to grow heavy as the dragon led out a great pestilent breathe, a gulp of air so poisonous it would have slain any dwarf. As the rangers began to drop, Lord Valdas laughter could be heard. Pointing at the fallen dwarfs, a few magical words escaped his mouth and they began to rise again. The captain reached for the musicians horn and his last gasp, let his kin know the time to advance was now. As the last of his breathe escaped him, he was warmed to see the expedition force of Zhufbar crossing the hill. There was hope yet.

Lord Valda bellowed in disgust at the sight of the army he knew was hiding. Raising one hand to the sky, he pointed at the oncoming dwarf host and roared at the night. Bats, ghouls and wolves appeared at first, followed by Grandfather. The doors of his keep opened and the House Guard walked out along with armoured skeletons, ready to take the war to the Dwarfs.
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

The Battle of Schwarzberg is one which has fallen off Imperial records due to the lack of Imperial involvement in it. The dwarfs of Zhufbar have recorded it in their 'Book of Grudges' as the Night of the Black Beasts due to the nature of the creatures which attacked and slaughtered the Zhufbar host that night. The survivors of the battle returned, only to die a few days later of a mysterious poisoning which their medical experts could only put down to virulent noxious fumes. The only words of the fumes which the dwarfs spoke of was the great and terrible breathe of a dead wyrm that simply stood on the expedition Commander, killing him outright. Others spoke of the expeditions standard bearer challenging a grinning glowing skeleton in ornate armour, only to have his head atop his banner in mere moments.

The obvious sentiment was it was best to leave whatever lived in the Castle Valda and to return when a full and proper force could be committed to bringing the beast within to justice. The clouds of billowing thunder that surround the Castle act as a mocking gesture to Zhufbar and occasionally a small host will venture to the Castle to attempt to right the wrongs against their kind, only to be seen on the battlements facing the Dwarf stronghold days later.

More recently, the Empire decided it would try and investigate the happenings of the Castle Valda, even going so far as to send one of its devoted priests out to get a better idea of the beast which held counsel in the damned place. While this was attempted, the priests head was returned three days later, to the gates of Nuln with a message to not bother Lord Valda again. Emmanuelle Von Liebwitz and Wolfram Hertwig have both advised the Emperor Karl Franz that the castle is something best left to the more qualified dwarfs to deal with. The Emperor concurred with their judgement as there were more pressing matters on his doorstep.

The news of the lack of commitment to removing him was was one which caused a great deal of elation with Lord Valda. Now he was unopposed in his own micro-realm and could do as he pleased for a while. This had a bearing on Lord Valda's greater plans as some say Lord Valda has left his castle for the moment, heading in the direction of the blasted fortress of Nagashizzar. In his stead he has left his progeny, Mordred 'The Fireblood' in charge and a series of raids by skeletal horsemen have occured against the occupants of the villages near the Black Lake.

The times, however, are not all prosperous for the House of Valda. Some have heard rustling in the tunnels beneath the Castle suggesting that Lord Valda and his digging may have come across one of the infamous Skaven tunnels. The final nail in the proverbial coffin is that a small Waagh has been redirected from the Moot in the direction of the Castle Valda. The halflings have decided they do not want to be at war with the Vampires on another front and are using the Orcs to their advantage. This has not deterred Mordred though and a campaign of guerilla warfare against the Orcs to lead them back to the Moot has been launched with the aid of his skeletal horsemen and Grandfather.

While there is a lot going on in his sires absence to cause disdain, Mordreds only real concern is why Lord Valda feels he needed an immediate audience with The Great Necromancer himself...
 

Get of W'soran

CN's Lord of Masks
True Blood
Apr 23, 2008
9,239
Behind the Throne
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Nicely written it was easy to picture what was going on in the story due to the great descriptions.
I espeically love the end of that last part, very interesting :)
Can't wait for the next installment!
 

Disciple of Nagash

Oldblood
Staff member
Feb 12, 2008
27,732
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Indeed, looks like things are going to get interesting when he joins the RP
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

He is VERY interesting though the next few pieces about his time in Nagashizzar are going to be my literary masterpiece for Lord Valda.
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Through the dark he came,
out of the smoke and the fire,
holding nothing but shame,
and a great burning ire.
The man they called the Beast
Who walked through the night
as he came to feast,
on all malice and spite.


The first verse of the "Tale of the Tower & the Beast" - a contemporary work recorded by one of the Nagashi who saw the coming of one who saught audience with the Great Necromancer. Many have interpreted this as Valda coming to Nagashizzar.

The night had been old even before Valda reached sight of one of the sentries of the citadel known as Nagashizzar. They had first thought that one of the rogue nomads of the surrounding tribes had come to the gates to pay homage to the Great Necromancer. When they saw that it was one of the dread Vampires, alarms began to go off and a small party of the dread Nagashi came out to meet Valda. Without saying a word, he simply attacked them and killed them all, taking the head of their chieftain and presenting it when he finally got to the gate.

There were no words exchanged between the gatekeeper and Valda as the gates opened without any second glance. Valda walked into a courtyard glistening with images of death and Valda knew these were images of Khemri burning and dying. All around, skeleton sentries walked by normal people as if nothing was different about them. In desolate corners, Valda could smell ghouls and worse. It was everything he had expected as a second great gate loomed. Standing before it, he presented the chieftains head once more and answered by mocking laughter from on the ramparts of the second gate. What answered was not something normal mortal men would be able to comprehend and it was then that Valda realised what he was standing in. This was a holding put, Nagashizzar was surrounded by them, to hold the creatures of death that the assistants of the Dread Lord no doubt worked on. One such creature was the master of the second gate.

Leaping from the rampart, the gatekeeper swiped at Valda. The Black Beast sidestepped the swipe and made a slight cut in the side of the gatekeeper. Enough to draw blood but not a fatal wound. The gatekeeper took the warning and stepped back. Nursing the flesh wound, he began to bark madly and incoherently. A noise responded like a bee hive had been disturbed. Valda assumed a guarding stance and waited for whatever was coming.
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

A Sheppard's cry gathered his flock,
yet the Beast did not flee,
as the gatekeeper began to mock
for his herd he did see.
From the shadows, many came
their numbers terrible and great
but their fate was all the same
as the Beast got through the gate


The ghouls all began to come from the shadows, one by one they clawed and leapt at Valda who's un-nerving speed was tested by these flew loving monsters. Each who came though, was put to the sword as quickly as had answered the cry of the gatekeeper. As each fell though, they began to rise once more. Valda felt the weight of numbers bearing down on him and realised that there was more to this than met the eye.

The Gatekeeper.

Bashing his hand forward, snapping the neck of yet another ghoul, Valda leapt with un-natural dexterity for someone of his size and landed beside the gatekeeper. As he landed, the gatekeeper plunged a dagger into a weak point in the armour of Valda and the vampire stalled for a moment. It had been a long time since he had been wounded and he knew this was not skill on the part of the gatekeeper, merely a lucky shot. Grabbing the gatekeeper by the throat and the dagger arm in his firm grasp, Valda lifted the 'keeper into the air several inches. Removing his hand from the gatekeepers throat, Valda held him suspended from the dagger arm as the gatekeeper tried vigorously to let go and break free of the iron grip. Smashing his hand into the 'keepers un-armoured chest, the liquid which exploded out of it was far from blood. It resembled pus and Valda pulled out what he believed was the beasts heart. What he actually got was a solid pebble of warpstone, smooth and unspoiled even by the blood pus of the gatekeeper. Looking at his heart, the keeper showed a surprising amount of strength and fell to the ground. It was only then that Valda realised the scope of the what the gatekeeper was. The gatekeeper was a Vampire just as he was.

For a moment, Valda felt sorry for one of the proud Vampires having to be brought down to the level of the vermin, the prey. Only Nagash was capable of such a thing as Valda wondered what heinous crime the gatekeeper had done to be given this dastardly duty. The magnitude of pain the gatekeeper must have gone through in having his heart replaced by warpstone. Looking at the gatekeeper as his lifeblood faded away, Valda felt momentarily tempted to drink the blood-pus oozing out of where the gatekeepers heart had been. Sneering inwardly at the thought, Valda came to his senses and realised that such a gesture was one of the progeny of Abhorash for a worthy opponent. The gatekeeper had not been a worthy opponent, he was simply in the way. It was then that Valda realised that even the great vampires were indispensable to the Great Necromancer. Crushing the warpstone to dust, Valda threw it into the air as the second gate opened without anyone seeming to operate it. Attendant poured out of the next chamber, dregs dragging the corpses that Valda had created off for more devilish experimentation within this monument of spite. Valda walked on past the dregs though, uncertain of what he was going to find within the next part of the greatest citadel in the known world.
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

The flock has been shown the fear
and they knew the Beast was defeat
so they would not go near
lest their corpses become rows, so neat
time would tell of his ravenous fury
and at the foot of the gate
he would continue his story
and onwards to find his fate


A deep feeling of remorse surged through the iron will of Valda as the gate closed behind him once more. A great obsidian hall beckoned him in. Its polished colours were dark and foreboding as the air itself felt heavy with a great sense of history. There was a tang of sweetness in the air as Valda. felt something whisper softly into his ear. Valda recognised the voice at once and felt like his dead heart was beating again for a second. In an instant his sword was out and spinning round, Valda was brought to an abrupt halt as it swept over nothing. His sword had been too quick for anyone to dodge and Valda felt a fire burning again where his soul had once been. The creature too quick to hit had become apparent. A black cloaked figure stood where the sword was supposed to have hit and Valda finally choked out a word. It was laced with tension as well as angry beyond belief.

"Supreme...?"

The woman simply nodded, not responding verbally. Her garment was simple but covered a females modest frame. She was no woman however, she was one of the dreaded Druchii and she was faster than any normal human. Lifting her hood to reveal a visage of battle scarred beauty that was so typical of Dark Elves, she did not smile, or even acknowledge the sword blow that had been aimed at her.

"You must leave this place at once."

Valda growled intensely.

"Why is it not for me, Supreme?"

"He knows you are here and he will not hesitate to send you to your doom. Why do you think I am here?"

The choking sensation did not cease as Valda brought his sword back for a second swipe at the Sister Supreme. As he brought it in the arc aimed for her head, he found the sword knocked out of his hand and a pain in his chest where she had hit him. He was on the floor and he hadn't had a chance to blink.

"Leave, now, you have already brought enough of your pain to this place."

Walking calmly away, Valda went to move and realised he was unable to. The Supreme had hit him in just the right place to paralyse him temporarily - the remains of his heart. It was with this that the black cloak appeared to vanish into the walls and the ghouls came once more. They believed they had found an easy morsel in Valda now that the Supreme was done with him.

Finally sitting us as the ghouls circled, Valda grabbed his sword and began to mouth words of magic. The magic in the air grew and grew as the tips of the creatures tongues felt a tang of sourness. It was an un-natural and unpleasant feeling as their strength began to fade away. The creatures realised what was happening a moment too late and as they tried to scurry towards Valda. Their legs gave from underneath them and they became as their former masters warpstone heart. Dust.

A rousing ovation was given to this act as somewhere in the dark of the obsidian hall there was a cackle that became hearty laughter to the ears of Valda. A trio of figures emerged from the shadows and were clapping slowly now, almost mockingly. This, however, was not the Supreme, it was a vampire flanked by a pair of necromancers. The necromancers were quite obviously twins as they were identical and even had the same mannerisms. The only thing difference between them another was their magical staffs. The cloaks they wore were typical of Necromancers, dark neutral colours and their skin was as pallid as the dead they raised. The Vampire, on the other hand, was a magnificent specimen. He was easily the size of Valda, though he wore no armour. His raw muscle and sinew would have been enough to protect him from any harm which came his way.

Valda brought his guard up as the small party of undeath got to within a few metres of him, the Vampire leading and the Necromancers behind. Valda knew that they were not a welcome party and prepared for what was going to be his longest day.
 

Disciple of Nagash

Oldblood
Staff member
Feb 12, 2008
27,732
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Really liking this Voltaire, first time I have seen a piece of someone trying to infiltrate Nasgashizzar and you are writing it very well.
 

The Dark Lord Mr Fluffy

Master Necromancer
True Blood
Dec 23, 2007
2,586
Eire
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

I completely agree - well done I must say, haven't read that well written a piece in a while
Although that seal penguin came close...
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Thanks, nice to know Valda is the boss of his own destiny (kudos to anyone who gets the reference). I apologise and have tidied up the grammar and spelling issues of the previous piece.

Seal Penguin loving is the inevitable result of them looking SO lovingly at each other in the Antarctic...
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

As black clouds rained in his eyes,
the Beast would soon rage,
as the thunder bellowed in the sky,
he would need to turn a page,
For this is the place of broken dreams
where nothing is certain to be
between the sound of the dying screams
and the fear of what you could not see


The muscular vampire stopped and placed his huge hands behind his even bigger back. Raising an eyebrow, he decided that he would applaud Valda's efforts. While applauding the muscular vampire addresed the Necromancers, almost passively watching the other vampire.

"Now observe here, Phear, Phobos, how this morsel of our true potential fights. He is a student of the craft as must as he is a dealer in it. Death, I mean. While he is dead, in himself he still feels very alive." The vampire extended his hand to Valda to help him up, the grim smile on his face was betrayed by his yellow eyes and grey skin. "I am Talion. Welcome to the end."

Taking Talion's hand, Valda felt himself hoisted into the air as a spectacular strength exerted enough force over him to break him arm. It was only through pure athletic ability that Valda managed to turn the fling into a platform to land on Talion's immense chest. Doing a spin on the spot, Valda jumped and pushed both feet towards the ground in a blow that would turn any normal adversary into paste. Talion, however, did not move, he simply laughed and grabbed Valdas leg.

"How rude, I was only trying to help you up."

In an instant Valda was airborne as Talion flung him across the room. It was at this point that Valda noticed the Necromancers were gone from sight. The moment after he crashed into the wall leaving a large hole in it. Amazingly he still had control of his sword and had not broken anything that was unrepairable. Picking himself up, Valda assumed a defensive stance and ran at Talion. Running as quickly as he could, Valda landed his sword square in the chest of his foe and pushed on to it. Sneering, he was surprised to see Talion laughing.

"A strong attack, but a foolish one. Observe."

The observation was Valda's nose breaking as a huge fist smashed into his face sending him back to the hole in the wall made moments earlier. The second impact only served to highlight how big the hole made by the first in the ebony wall was. Standing and clutching his nose, Valda spat precious blood onto the floor and found his quarry upon him. Dodging fist blows that would break him into pieces, Valda tried to return them and found the strength in his limbs had gone. A stiff kick from Talion finally landed and Valda felt a rib crack. Looking, he could finally see the Necromancers who had been in the room. They appeared to be chanting and it was then that Valda realised what was wrong. They were aiding Talion. Grasping his sword once more, Valda swept it in an arc that cut off Talions foot. Still not hurting, the wound simply knitted itself up as Valda began to painfully make his way to stop the Necromancers. Raising the remnants of his magical strength, the ghosts of those who Valda had recently killed began to appear around the Necromancers as they stopped chanting and began running from the large chamber.

Dropping his sword, Valda smiled. "Relying on mortal tricks to beat an immortal will never work you know." The irony laced Valdas voice "I would never rely on Necromancers for my abilities, my abilities are my own."

Turning to see the muscular beast, Valda noticed he already appeared to have lost some of his bulk as Valda began to chant an ancient litany as his eyes began to glow red. Talion was stuck to the spot as Valda clasped his right hand together, giving an ungodly signal to the ghosts to descend on Talion. Clawing at the ghosts, Talion never noticed Valda approaching him with his sword drawn. The ghosts had tkane the last of the fight out of Talion. Valda almost felt like he was issuing a mere formality to Talion at this point. Smirking, Valda readied his sword as the ghosts stopped, Talion stopped clawing and finally noticed the immense vampire before him. Valdas voice was filled his arrogance as he brought his sword round in an arc meant for Talion head.

"I never thanked you for helping me up friend."

With that, Talions head hit the floor as the ghosts simply looked on. Valda left out a hard breathe and fell to his knee, the fight had taken its toll on as he watched Talions head contort into a malicious growl and start fading away to dust. In second, the only thing left of him was a small pellet of warpstone that Valda pocketed for later use. Further ahead of him, the ghosts began to walk into the wall and one appeared to be signalling that this was the way to go. It was the ghost of the gatekeeper.

Letting himself slip slightly, Valda became as the ghosts and slipped through the wall, onwards into Nagashizzar.
 

Disciple of Nagash

Oldblood
Staff member
Feb 12, 2008
27,732
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

How did I miss this?? I keep track of most of the fluff on this site. Anyhow another nicely written piece Voltaire and an nice challenge, though if the power of his opponents keeps on going up like this I dead to think what his final challenge will be like.
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Brain over brawn had won his first day
and the Beast continued jaded
trying to find his slippery way
whilst the shadow of the past faded
into the dark and the glorious sky
up the steps of doom
for those who watched with curious eyes
seeing nothing more than gloom


Coughing slightly as he came back in corporeal form, Valda felt an iron taste in his mouth. The vampire he had just fought had taken a heavy toll on Valda in what had been a disgustingly short space of time. The chunk of warpstone where Talions heart once was, rested in his pocket. He was certain he would need it now as it was the second such piece he had received on the day. Reasoning he would not be exposed to the real magnificent power of Chaos. Feeling his muscles ache for a moment, the ghosts that he had followed simply nodded to him, as if acknowledging his pain. They formed a circle around him as the warpstone in his hand began to glow. Letting go of it, a strange renewed vigour filled his arms and legs, his chest felt lighter and the pain was subsiding. He coughed again and this time there was no pain, or blood. On the contrary, his lungs felt renewed and better than when he had actually been alive so many years ago. The ghosts disappeared. Valda thanked the departed as they left for somewhere he would never see. Paradise.

Letting the room come into focus around him, Valda could only see stairs made from finely crafted basalt. Heading up them, he noted how none of a number of skeleton sentries actually seemed to care what he was doing, they browsed past him like he was not there. It was disturbing more than anything as Valda knew he should probably be fighting them off with the hilt of his sword as they swarmed him. Maybe the Supreme had been right along, did He know that Valda was coming. The stairs seemed to last forever, and after two hundred steps, Valda felt himself want to be breathless simply so he had a reason to stop. Every time he wanted to stop though, he could swear he saw a flicker of a black cloak a few steps in front of him. The spiralling frame of the staircase seemed to be having an effect on his perception or perhaps it was the Warpstone. Whatever the case, Valda pressed on and on, hoping to catch the figure that was in front of him. His speed was unmatched as he cleared hundreds of stairs in mere moments. Nothing seemed to be able to make him fast enough to catch it, to catch her. Finally, after what must have been a thousand stairs, Valda let himself slow a little. It was only then that he noticed a peculiar incidence. The basalt was changing colour around him to match his mood. It had been an intense crimson as he rushed up the stairs and was now going from a regal purple to a soothing blue. As he realised, it started to turn orange as his alarm got higher. Calming slightly, Valda looked up and noticed he was nearing the top of the stairs. It had only taken a very rough hour to get to here and the thought of what awaited at the top made Valda both eager and fearful.

Sighing, he sprinted up the final few steps and hit the top running into what looked spires. The spires were made of the same basalt that the spiral staircase had been made of and they were all changing colour constantly. Valda was sure it was an illusion created by those around him. A strange noise was coming from them like the humming of a whale. It was joyous and soothing. Too soothing. The illusion was getting stronger and Valda felt his senses slipping away from him. Feeling the world standstill for a second, the smell of gunpowder suddenly filled the air as a shot pierced the calm and Valda felt his shoulder explode in pain. Trying to heal it quickly as he waited for a second shot, Valda felt a slightly nauseous sensation as if he was being blocked. As the bullet finally became dislodged, Valda noticed why it had hurt to magically retrieve it. The bullet was made of obsidian, the anti-magic material. Stinging, Valda picked up a whisper on the wind.

"I have you in my sights beast, I see you..."

Raising his sword, Valda adopted an open defensive posture as a second shot rang out. This time though, he saw it coming and sliced the bullet mid-air.

"Who are you?" He remarked to the shifting towers "Why are you shooting at me?". It was odd for Valda to say such a thing as he had not had much opportunity to see this sort of technology in action, he had only seen dwarfs use it before and heard of it in the place known as Nuln. To think of one of the Vampires using it filled him with dread. The whispering voice returned, it was clearly female in origin and had a distinctive Kislev tone to it. It was almost sexual in a mocking way, teasing the air around Valdas ears.

"Because you are my prey."

A third shot rang out from an unseen quarter and Valda's knee buckled. His armour had not been dented but he was stinging where it had hit anyway. The bullet was not from the same place as the first and Valda cursed as he supposed this female was going between the Towers in the shadows of the bright colour. The voice continued to whisper in his ear, it was laced with spite.

"You are my prey, and I am the Hunter. This is the way we shall succeed in this Old World, by embracing new ideas. My home of Kislev was one such place, they embraced a queen of ice until they discovered what she was, she was my mother, my maiden, and now, she is gone because people will not embrace new ideas. I shall show them all the error of their ways though. Out with the old, in with the new..."

This mad woman was probably right about the ideals of the new versus the old. It was a notion he would ponder a different time and one Valda would be sure to keep in mind if he survived. Turning to where the stairway had been with a sense of urgency, there was nothing now, only a sealed hole that served to complete the plateau. Concentrating, he finally healed his shoulder, his armour re-knitted itself at his beckon, such things were simple in small amounts. Listening for another shot, holding his sword ready, the whispering continued.

"So come Valda, Beast, let me show you why new idea's and visions will let us reign Supreme."

Finally, another rifle shot rang out from another unseen quarter, aimed straight for Valda's head. It sang as it flew through the air, and Valda only had mere seconds to stop it.
 

Disciple of Nagash

Oldblood
Staff member
Feb 12, 2008
27,732
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Nice how you managed to get round the increase in power, choosing a challenge strong in another area. Quite a unique piece as I didn't expect to see a gun. The ending is an excellent cliffhanger, I'm really looking forward to seeing how Valda is going to avoid being killed. I have my theory but I'll have to wait and see............
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

When the darkness is providing the fire
burning his flesh to the bone
it invoked the Beasts great ire
as he found himself not alone
There were voices preaching to banish the old
and start everything anew
the Beast could feel nothing but cold
as he never knew what to do.


As the bullet sang true through the air, Valda moved his head with every bit of un-natural speed he could muster in a vain attempt to avoid the inevitable. What happened in reality was a different matter as the bullet pierced Valda left cheek and passed straight through his ear. The move had been quick, but not quick enough. Howling in pain, the Scourge of Schwarzberg reached to his cheek and looked at his hand, now covered in a deep red blood. Tasting it, there was nothing refreshing or even redeeming about the iron tang on the tip of his tongue. Looking around to the shifting towers, a chill wind blew at Valda as the beast he was facing began to speak again. The same disdainful sounding female voice appeared to be coming from everywhere now. The authority in it was laced with the confidence that only sexual prowess can bring.

”You are a relic of a bygone age, as many of the current Vampires are, Amadeus Valda. You are a creature constrained by the old staples of morals and tradition. These are the same things that have stopped out kind from taking over the world. They have stagnated much of the planet. The Dread Lord Nagash thinks differently though and with it he tried to bring light to Khemri.” The voice was speaking of a history Valda had known, and he knew it was nothing so noble as the advocating of change, merely self-preservation. ”Do you not see this?”

Three more shots rang out in the seemingly endless spires. Valda had more time to respond this time and with a sharp slice of his sword, two of the bullets were simply deflected away. The third however, hit its mark and with that, Valda’s left knee exploded in a shower of bone, armour and sinew. It was the single most painful sensation that he had ever felt and it was one that felt debilitating in the extreme. Roaring a primal scream of agony, Valda began to finally talk back at the sniping ghost.

”The preservation of ones self is not change, it is instinct. That is why I am defending myself. Nagash was no different. He is not trying to change the world for the better, he is trying to preserve himself.” The towers began to turn a distinct crimson shade as Valda spoke. Whomever was attacking him was getting angry. Another shot ran out and Valda’s other knee buckled and exploded. Speaking a few scant words of power, he held his sword out and stabbed it into the wound. The wound began to knit around the weapon as Valda used it to focus his necromantic energies. His knee returned and he began to hobble on one leg, trying to get the syllables out to heal the other wound. The sniper had gone quiet, as if contemplating what he had said. The crimson shade of the towers began to ease as silence engulfed them and they became blue once more. The voice of the woman was a whisper once more. It was losing the confident edge to it.

”While you may believe yourself to be correct, Lord Valda, I believe that there is more to the vision of Nagash than simply undeath for all. There has to be something beyond it otherwise he would have simply killed all of the Vampires, rather than cursing us.”

Turning around madly once more, Valda stopped. This was futile. He would simply be shot to pieces in this exact spot unless he did something to try and stem the tide. A loud bolting noise echoed from one of the blue spires. That was where she was hiding. Her new technology had given her away! Time was required though, otherwise she would simply move again. Keep her talking

”You may be the Hunter, female, but what is your name?”

Valda reasoned that by calling her woman, rather than the Hunter, she would become in incensed. The crimson hue returning to the towers seemed to prove him right. Another shot rang out that Valda deflected with immense ease. He was prepared for it this time. A second one actually missed its mark and the third clattered off his armour. Finally finishing the incantations to heal his knee, Valda stood to his feet slowly. The voice was now angry.

”My name is Novelle. I bring the new to the old and make them eat it whole.”

Turning to where the noise had come from, Valda ran in the direction and leapt with all of his might. The armour felt heavier but the new ligaments meant he would be able to make it to the spire where the sniper known as Novelle was hiding. Landing in an awkward way, Valda rolled and turned to the spot where he believed the sniper was. To his surprise, there was nobody there. Turning around to continue his search a cold gun barrel greeted him in the forehead. A blast rang out and the bullet pierced straight through his skull. Seeing his own blood leak into his eyes, the face that looked back was a beautiful one - a pale slender woman with matching snow-white hair. Everything turned a dastardly shade of crimson, as the towers become green. Blood was leaking onto Valda’s face as he started to realise what had happened. Had he not been one the vampiric kin, he would have died on the spot. Lifting his hand to his forehead and grimacing, Valda growled and went to approach this mad Kislev sniper. As he looked back to her, the butt of the rifle connected with the bullet wound on his head and he took a few steps back reeling, closely towards the exact spot he had landed on the platform from. The rifle fired again and it bounced off his armour, but the force of it sent Valda flying over the edge, sword in hand. A hearty laughter filled the air as Valda fell. The last thing he saw before being swallowed by the darkness below was the face of Novelle, looking and laughing at him. Her final mocking words rang in his ears as the darkness surrounded him and he continued to fall.

”Out with the old, in with the new.”
 

Disciple of Nagash

Oldblood
Staff member
Feb 12, 2008
27,732
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Another great instalment Voltaire, my only gripe is that I wish you would write them faster lol.
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

The Dark turned the beast to dust
and destroyed his very being
no more passion fear or even lust
for there was nothing left to be seeing.
Still, though, he had to fight
And bring about his fate
For to quit was not do what was right
And to leave it all too late.


A gentle thud signalled Valda finally hitting the ground at the bottom of the tower. Looking back towards the sky where he had fallen from, an overwhelming sense of anger filled him and almost blocked out the amazing pain he was feeling in his forehead where the obsidian bullet had passed straight through him. Trying to raise himself from the slump of where he had landed, Valda noted a broken leg and what was probably going to be a fractured spine. The pain began to overwhelm him as he realised. His vision became blurry and lying in a puddle of his own blood, Valda began to lose consciousness. The last thing he saw before he did was a black cloak looking over him. He mumbled a few incoherent words to the cloak. They were uncharacteristically emotional for him.

” You do care…”

With that he let himself pass out from the pain. As he lay, he seemed to recall several voices echoing and he was unsure whether it was all in his mind or someone actually talking besides his body. The voices all seemed familiar somehow. Two female voices and a male voice were quite prominent.

”Let him die, he is nothing more than vermin.”

”Vermin that defeated you Novelle. You nearly failed in your task and he would have had the range of you had you not been fighting in my wondrous spires.”

”Novelle, Ra’en, silence. We need him to live lest the Dread Lord will be displeased. Something about this one amuses him in the same manner as we once did.”

”Then should we take him to the Dread Lord or simply let him get there himself?”

”Let him do it himself. He needs some simple help now, but that will be the last we offer him.”

”I do not trust you Supreme. This runt will kill us all. When he does my essence will mock yours for all eternity.”

Feeling himself being carried from where he had been, Valda completely lost consciousness and the voices fell silent. As he regained consciousness, Valda noticed that each ache and pain had dulled immensely. There was actually no pain whatsoever, merely a slight tingling sensation as Valda realised he had been healed. Someone had taken the time and effort to heal him back to the way he was before the fight with Novelle. While it was a nice thought, he couldn’t help but feel it was merely some sort of sick joke aimed at making him pay for his sins and killing two vampires in a different way. Standing completely to attention, he was greeted with three beings in front of him. They had been the trio whose voices he had heard while he was drifting in and out of consciousness. The first figure was undoubtedly the sniper Novelle. Her magnificent pale skinned body being hidden by a modest dress. It was not unlike any attire he had ever seen, but he supposed that was something to do with the ‘out with the old’ consensus she seemed to live her life by. Her signature sniper rifle was notably missing. Interesting, but unusual. The second figure, the male was a modest medium build and appeared to be wearing a skin suit, something usually associated with thieves. It appeared to be made from the scales of skinks, as the shade of the suit was certainly an exotic one. He had a long dai katana at his side and was missing his left eye. Overall he was quite an imposing figure. Finally Valdas eyes landed on the third person. Her black robes were unmistakable as was her figure. She was taller than the other two, but not by much. Her skin was a much more appealing pale shade than Novelle’s and it was clear she was of Elven origin. Her piercing eyes met his and Valda shuddered. Her astonishing beauty belayed the wisdom of years.

Feeling invigorated once more, he began to notice the room around them. It was dark, desolate and damp. It was the complete vision of a dungeon in a castle. A rat scurried past and Valda noticed what appeared to be moonlight shining into what was obviously a cell of some description. Getting his balance completely, he strode across the room at the three figures. He reached for his sword but found nothing. Scowling still, he reached out to grab at the Supreme. As he did so, he found his arm couldn’t move at all. A sharp elbow hit him in the back of the head. Valda staggered and attempted a kick with his right leg. As soon as he attempted the move he found his head cracking the floor. The Supreme was far too fast for him to deal with. Jumping to his feet, Valda attempted a final punch and found his right arm twisted around his back as his forehead smacked into one of the great stony walls that comprised the cell. Falling back onto his back, Valda coughed as a trickle of blood came down his left cheek. It was terrible to feel the failure once more coarse through him. Closing his eyes, he let the door slam and lock him in the cell. Sighing, Valda began to fill his mind with thoughts on how to escape.
 

Disciple of Nagash

Oldblood
Staff member
Feb 12, 2008
27,732
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Excellent Voltaire, I'm really starting to see those "influences" we spoke of......
 

Belladamma Voltaire

Vyrkos Primogen
True Blood
Aug 15, 2007
2,829
Manchester, UK
RE: The Chronicles of the House of Valda

Further into the black he fell
feeling nothing but vicious sorrow
straight into a desolate personal hell
hoping to never see tomorrow
The time for action was nigh
But such things were elusive
For the Beast could only sigh
As his task felt inconclusive


The time he had spent in the cell seemed to last forever as the night never seemed to subside. He had been sitting in the same spot for three full hours contemplating the best way to escape this place that would be his prison. He was unsure whether he would be summoned to see the Great Necromancer or whether he was simply being kept here as some sort of hermit prisoner. Knowing his captors, he would rot in this cell until the day he died. It was not a warming thought really and it was one he would certainly not allow himself to dwell on, sat in his cell. There was nothing he could do to push the thought of the second beating he had received from the Supreme however. She was better than he was in every conceivable way, as one would expect from a student and master. She had taught him everything he knew in the ways of fighting and survival. Many years ago, in Khemri and Naggaroth they had trained endlessly, his thirst for knowledge and battle only sated by her sheer willpower and gleaming brilliance. They balanced each other out perfectly, and it was only after he had been cast into a Cauldron of Blood and emerged as a thirsty avatar of Khaine did he truly begin to appreciate the magnitude of what she had taught him. She had disciplined his mind and his being in a way that was previously thought impossible to all vampires but the progeny of Abhorash.

Standing finally, he walked to the door of the cell and looked out, there was nothing outside except a terrifyingly long corridor that led into yet more darkness. The scurrying of ghouls could be heard fighting over morsels of flesh, probably each other’s. This place was not natural in any way shape or form and Valda grimaced to think of what it would be like in the light of day. The walls looked like they had skin hung on them like great tapestries and in his cell, there were a number of skeletons of various humans. Valda supposed they were all previous victims of the inhabitants of this dread citadel. Going to the window of his cell, Valda saw a great thunderstorm raging outside and a great black ocean. He supposed it was the desolation of Nagash. Returning his gaze to his cell, Valda cursed out loud that he did not have his sword. Growling, he put his entire force behind a single punch aimed at the door. The walls shook, Valda felt his hand jar slightly but the door was unperturbed. It stood form and did not move. Turning his back to the door, he charged forward at the wall ahead of him and tried to magically propel himself through it. As he flew through the air he believed he would be able to break through. Much as the door had, the wall did not move. Slumped on the floor for the second time, he began to consider his options afresh. It was then he realised the error of his previous ways. Taking a deep breath, he tried to turn to his ethereal form. Walking for the door, he bounced off it for a second time, and it began to glow a dastardly green. The entire cell was glowing. Once again, warpstone had been his undoing.

Three more hours passed and a figure appeared at Valda’s door. Waking suddenly, he rushed to the door and as he attempted to grab the bars of the door, it swung open. Regaining his balance, Valda raised his eyebrow. Who had the figure been and why were they helping him. Sprinting with all of his speed down the hallway, other cell doors become apparent and from within, moans and discontent rang out from elves, humans dwarfs and even skaven. This place was despicable in the extreme. Turning a corner with immense speed, Valda crashed through another door. The figure flickered in the distance. The halls had changed now into what looked like where the prisoners were fed and exercised. He supposed this was some morbid part of the ongoing experimentation of the many Necrach thralls that lived within the fortress of Nagashizzar. Losing the figure, Valda found himself in a second hall, with great stone pillars. It was as bleak as the others and at the end; a pulley system operated a strange man sized metal box that appeared to be the only way in and out of this terrible place. The small gates on the metal box closed and the figure escaped upstairs. Valda cursed at having to wait for the device to come back again. The figure would be long gone by then.
Sitting and waiting for the strange pulley system to return down, a heavy clatter could be heard from above, like the clattering of armour and the release of steam. The pulley system began to operate again as something was coming down from the higher levels. Putting a good few paces between him and whatever was coming down, Valda got ready in case it was the figure that had freed him returning. Sighing at the prospect of fighting without his weapon, a strange green gas began to emanate from the pulley system. A giant clunking figure came into view in strange attire not dissimilar to the protective costumes worn by skaven Poison Wind Globadiers. The figure was obviously too large to be skaven, and Valda supposed he was one of the ‘scientists’ in the fortress. The suit was rusty and very mechanical with a strange set of goggles and a breathing apparatus on it. The suit released an immense amount of steam as it took a few steps forward. The creature inside it began to speak in a devilish manner, with a heavy Altdorf accent.

”Herr Valda, Wilkommen to the dungeon. You haf been placed in my care by Frau Novelle and Herr Ra’en. Mistress Supreme haf requested I keep an extra special eye on you. I have been given orders to kill you if you try and escape.”

Taken back slight, Valda was unsure of what to expect from the massive suit as it released another valve of steam. The pistons in the arm of the device rose slowly and the great hand of the suit pointed at him.

”My name is Herr Gustanberg, I was once a scientist in the Altdorf guild of engineers. You haf seen some of zer handywork already. An intimate experience with Frau Novelle’s rifle I believe. Yar, this is gute.” The brutal accent helped alleviate the monotony of the Gustanberg’s voice as Valda became more and more tense. ”Zis suit is made from plans taken from a Skaven Engineer. I took it just before I vas made into zis terrible blood seeking creature of der night. The plans detail a beautiful suit powered by warpstone. I saught the kiss so I might be able to experiment better and not worry about my lifes work. It seems my unlifes work is going better. I have learned, for example, that Skaven are marvellous engineers but lack the lifespan to see zer greatest vork come to completion. I no longer have zis problem.”

Letting his guard loosen a little, the speed of the suit meant that Valda felt a bit more comfortable. He could easily run rings around Gustanberg if he so desired. It would be a simple task but Valda did not know how strong the suit was. Gustanberg appeared to be thinking the same thing as a low buzz began to fill the room. Looking for the source, Valda realised it was Gustanbergs finger.

”Skaven are also proficient at using daemons to bring about zer infamous warp lightning. Observe.”

A massive lightning bolt shot out of Gustanbergs finger hitting Valda squarely on the chest and sending him flying back across the room. The bolt burned but left no permanent mark. Standing slightly, the smell of slightly charred flesh filled the room as Herr Gustanberg began a plodding advance in Valda’s direction. The buzzing had gotten louder as a much more fierce bolt of lightning shot in the direction of where Valda was prone. Herr Gustanbergs voice rang in the desolate halls.

”FULL POWER.”
 
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