The Conquests of Mal: Campaign Fluff Added

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The Conquests of Mal: Campaign Fluff Added

#1 Post by Malossar »

Ok so i've been working on some fluff tonight, after a tournament victory. I was using my twin dragon list, check it out in the army list thread. I'll be posting some battle reports there shortly. here is some brief background of my characters and the stage.

Part 1:


The missive came and was quite clear. All princes were to attend the Phoenix King in his court at Lothern. No excuses were permitted. Malossar glared at the message and slowly balled it into his fist. His knuckles bleaching with the effort his rage forced into his palm. He chanted slowly in his mind, the meditations of Caledor Dragon Tamer to soothe the tempest threatening to boil over his relaxed countenance.

“What news Mal? By your look it seems that The Ever Brilliant, Majestic, Prestigious Finubar has requested that you make with all available haste to Lothern and kiss his royal arse.” Enkago roared with laughter, Malossar’s sour mood wouldn’t prevent him from enjoying the moment.

“Well, my ever witty Battle Standard Bearer and caring cousin, it seems he has requested a council of princes to journey to Lothern, and guess what! You get to come with me!” And with that, Enkago’s laughing ceased and Malossar’s began.
The purpose of gathering in Lothern was shrouded in mystery. Malossar had a mere fortnight to prepare. He sent Enkago away to prepare the army; the only reason that fool Finubar would force a Caledorian Prince away from his Keep was for a summons of War. Malossar was no fool, and knew he had little time for proper preparations. He summoned Jezria, a once promising Caledorian youth sent to the Tower of Hoeth to learn from the brightest of minds in Ulthuan, until after her training she felt the call of the Dragon Song in her heart; she left the next morning and returned to her homeland and joined the ranks of the Dragon mages. Jezria was the only one of that reckless brood Malossar would trust with his life, and unfortunately she knew it...

“Ah, My Lord Mal, what is the purpose of you dragging me from my work?!” Jezria sneered as she entered into halls of Malossar’s court.

“My dear Lady Jezria, I had no idea that torturing children with tricks of fire, and setting blaze to your ex-lovers apartments were work.”

“ONE TIME THAT HAPPENED! AND YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THAT HE WAS SLEEPING WITH THAT ELLYRION WHORE!” Malossar began to weep tears of unbridled joy as he almost slipped from his throne at her reaction. He attempted to compose himself but when he looked into her phase and saw a look of pure hatred that Morathi herself would be hard pressed to top he lost himself once again.

“Mal,” her anger abated for the briefest of moments her tone turned to an almost pleading state, “come on, you and I both know that no son of noble birth will approach me now, they say I’m irresponsible, spiteful, and vengeful..”

“I know someone who has been at your heels since you both came of age, he’s tall, proud, a brilliant fighter, he wields a hu—“

“If you’re commenting on his… well his… you know what I mean if that’s what you’re talking about then I do—“

“NO, not in the slightest! I was simply stating that he wields his lance with expert precision, and he wields a huge amount of influence on the morale of my forces.” Malossar winked at that last statement, and Jezria attempted to hide the blush that rose in her cheeks as Enkago stalked into the chamber.

“Did I miss something?” Enkago questioned, like most Caledorian males, he was clueless when Jezria attempted to straighten her robes and remove the rebellious hair from her facial features. “Oh, nothing,” she managed to force out. Malossar covered his face with his palm, his cousin, while a brilliant warrior, will probably never figure this out.

“Preparations have been made Mal, the army will be ready to march at your command. Orders?”

“Have the servants fetch me my armor and axe and see some rations for a three day journey for the three of us.” Malossar said finally composing himself and bringing his thoughts to bear on more pressing issues.

“Three of us,” Enkago said, failing to hide the surprise in his voice, “where might the three of us be going?”

“To the mountains, what good is a Caledorian prince arriving at a council without his mount?” The realization crossed and Enkago and Jezria’s faces as a rare smile fell into corners of Malossar’s mouth.

The journey to moutains was long, arduous, and exhausting… for all but those of Caledorian descent. The trio journeyed at an ever increasing rate as they approached the mountains where the ancients slept. Malossar’s eyes shone when they finally descended into the depths of the cave and he laid eyes on the sleeping dragons. He had mind to sing to only one however, and as his consiciousness extended pass the boundaries of his skull and crept along the cavern wall into the thoughts of his best companion, the dragon, Martouf. As soon as their minds touched and linked, Malossar opened himself to the swirling tendrils of magic that wound through the mountains, he used these to amplify his words as the song of Awakening echoed from his soul. He merely had to sing a verse when Martouf’s massive frame shuddered and one eye blinked open. The eye smiled at Malossar and he felt the presence of Martouf within his thoughts,

“You realize that you are possibly the ugliest thing to wake up to right?”

“Of course, I haven’t had you to around to make sure I’ve been getting my beauty sleep, now come on lets go, we have half a century of fat to burn off you before you’re ready to do anything but make jokes. Let’s go lazy!”

“Perhaps one day you’ll understand that I do not simply sleep for enjoyment…”

“I already know that, you sleep with the sole purpose of pissing me off.”

Finubar wasn’t messing around this time. Princes from Chrace, Ellyrion, Tiranoc and Saphery were the most abundant in attendance, there were heralds from Yrvesse and Cothique, and Malossar thought the cloaked and shadowy figure was the self-proclaimed Shadow Prince of Nagarythe. Malossar was struggling to keep his bearings with all the introductions and proclamations, and the toasting, when suddenly a strong handed slap to the back almost sent him barreling into some merchants from Lothern.

“Holy Khaine, how the heck are yah Mal!?!?” The only possible elf that would call him by that name was none other than Kurnion, high prince of Chrace, and a long distant cousin to Malossar, outside of Enkago this was his only living relative. The two had hunted as lads in Chrace for most of Malossar’s summers until they both reached manhood and the mantles of leadership were thrust upon both. There was still a small ember of longing of the mountains and the thrill of the hunt that begged Malossar for a chance to grow again. For the first time since arriving at Lothern a week ago, Malossar didn’t have to
force a smile.

“Kurnion, you unpolished fool, how’s the misses at home? Still roaring in the morning and fetching you your breakfast while you yawn and slumber all day? Or are you too proud for that?”

Kurnion bellowed with joy, “If only she was my misses... KIDDING!” The two stumbled into chairs and immediately began swapping stories of battles and glories won across the world over. Suddenly Kurnion’s face darkened, “So why do you think we’ve been summoned Mal? There’s been rumors of Daemonic activity boiling over into the material realm, and Malekith’s fleet is on the move once again.”

“The Empire is weak Kurnion, they do not have the strength to repel another invasion, already Orcs are ravaging Kislev, the Skaven are becoming ever bolder and I fear we are on the brink of war across most fronts.”

“You are not mistaken, suprising though, I thought they bred only savages in Caledor.” Malossar turned, eyes flashing with rage, ready to kill the idiot who would dare insult his people. His red eyes locked with black ones, and the two squared off in the center of the pavilion. The crowd hushed in anticipation of a brawl. One was of noble countenance, beautiful armor polished to brilliance, with an axe slung over his back that the curls of his auburn hair fell over lightly. The other was dressed in leather hunting armor, his clothes were faded gray. His hair, as were his eyes, were the color of the darkest night, his features were withdrawn and hate blazed from his soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~

More to come.
Last edited by Malossar on Tue Jan 03, 2012 9:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#2 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Humorous, the quips between the Prince and the Dragon were great. The relationship bewteen the Prince and BSB is close, I guess Caledorian's keep their family close.
My Prince reps Yveresse, was he away on his Hawkship looking for the missing young nobles while this meeting happened? He'd be glad he missed it.
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#3 Post by Elithmar »

I guess Elithmar hadn't arrived yet - you'd know if he was there! Temper shorter than my grandad's hair...

Bravo, I too enjoyed the exchange between Malossar and the dragon, I liked the whole story about Jezria too.

A bit informal for my liking but, hey, if it was up to me everyone in the world would walk around using Shakespearean language!

Well done again, good sir! I prithee, write more!
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#4 Post by Headshot »

Ahem....

That is proclaimed 'Prince' by a representative council of the People of Nagarythe!! [-X

Our traditional aristocracy and social structure being somewhat discredited by the whole Sundering event (what with 99% of the nobles going off to play for the 'other team'...). We are a little more clannish and suspicious of hereditary privilege now.... :wink:

Great story! Please keep at it!

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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#5 Post by jwg20 »

Good start. Definitely caught my interest. I can't wait for more! Cousins huh? I will have to use that in my fluff once I get around to writing it. Keep up the good work and I look forward to the next installment!
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#6 Post by Malossar »

Sorry for the delayed response, i've written this next section 4 or 5 times! couldn't quite get it where i wanted to. Now that i have the flu, of course i have the burning urge to write! But since i slept all day with a fever and its finally broken i'm not in the slightest tired so might as well do something productive till the meds where off. So i'm honestly just going to type this out in one fluid stream of thought and see how it turns out.

Anyway...

Malossar turned his back on the Shadow Prince. He studied the faces of the crowd, most solemnly shocked at the potential of what was about to happen. His eyes locked with Enkago's, his confidence in his lord burned through his amber eyes. His gaze drifted to Jezria, the fire in Mal's soul cooled as he studied her soft jawline, the concern in her eyes, and the gentle curve of her hips. Their eye's met and a slight nod was given, as if she knew his next course of action.

Malossar's eyes lazily met the horizon, where the peaks of Caledor called to his soul, begging him to come back, return to his land and never leave again. He smiled and drew a deep breath as his muscles hardened into postions assumed for battle.

"Come then fool, let's see what that shattered kingdom still considers sword craft."

The two squared off in the center if the great tent. The crowd of Lords and Ladies formed a wide ring around the two combatants. They raised their arms in salute, and the duel began. Malossar attempted to recall what his father had once told him of fighting duels with the lesser Nobles of Ulthuan.

"Remember son, always seek honor, never blood. If it comes to that and you know you were just, there is no blood on your hands. However, if you seek to spill your Rival's blood at your feet, then you are no better than the Druchii, Asuryan curse them."

Malossar charged, his axe, Zyion, held aloof in his right arm as he sought to close the gap on the Shadow across from him. The Shadow Prince leapt backwards pulling his bow string back and nocking an arrow in one swift motion. He let loose an unerring stream of arrows toward Mal's chest. Malossar in kind, flicked arrows back and forth, slicing his way toward his opponent. It wasn't until he was within sword reached that he was met with pain. One arrow he had been late in parrying and it managed to glance into his shoulder. He barely noticed and continued full pelt into the Shadow.

...The arrow had made a solid thunk as it found purchase in Malossar's flesh, and Jezria couldn't help but feel the stab as if the arrow had pierced her own flesh. She gasped at the thought, what was she doing?...

His axe swung low, forcing his opponent into the air once more, granting Malossar an opening. He followed the momentum of his swing into his elbow which collided with the Shadow Princes chest. He felt ribs buckle from the strength of the blow. Staggering backward the Shadow Prince reached for his sword, a massive blade with the reach of Malossar's axe. Blades locked as sparks flew. Even the elven eyes of the crowd had trouble keeping pace with the speed the ancient weapons were thrusted, blocked, and parried in a dance of death that only one raised in the fires of war could hope to achieve.

... Jezria's jaw tightened, her heart stopped every time the Shadow Lord swung at Malossar, she knew his skills in war, but she had never seen someone as skilled as he before. Her chest hurt, she almost couldn't bare to watch, she longed to shield her eyes fearing the death blow might come any minute but she was mystified by the twirling blades. Unconsciously, her hand drifted into Enkago's...

Seconds passed into minutes as the two circled each other attempting to break through their opponent's defenses. At last Malossar broke the stalemate, swatting away the glowing blue blade from the Shadow's hand in stepping into the prince.

Malossar's skull found purchase with the Shadow's forehead who staggered back, pressing his advantage Malossar stepped in again, too close now to use Zyion, he brought his left hand into a fist and forced into in the Shadow's side, the air escaping was all the satisfaction needed to let Mal know that he had caused this arrogant whelp pain.

... Enkago winced, he could hardly believe the strength this female mage could bear into his hand, he wondered if even his gauntlet of Dragon Armor could protect him from the force...

The Shadow Prince recovered quickly, his left knee colliding into the interior of Malossar's thigh. Mal stumbled as his knee buckled from the jarring impact. The shadow brought his hand to the arrow protruding from Malossar's shoulder and ripped it from the flesh.

Dancing backward, the Shadow attempted to escape but Malossar caught his wrist and used his weight to twist, there was a loud snapping sound as the Shadow leapt out of reach.

Red Flame and Black Shadow circled around again. Malossar's right arm had gone cold, the arrow must had severed some tendon or artery and knew it was almost useless to him. He drew his long Chracian hunting knife from his belt with his left hand. He noticed that Shadow had done a similar action, his right arm hanging at an alien angle from the break.

In a flash the two crossed and entered into combat once again. Sparks flew, Red and Black passed bye and in a moment it was all over. Caledorain knife met Naggarothi throat... Naggorati steel met Caledorian throat.

The two stared into each other's eyes, as they realized what had happened. Red and Black glared at each other through an ancient hatred that had begun when Aenarion had drawn the Sword of Khaine. Their lineage flowed through each of them in an unbroken line. Caledor and Nagarythe's rivalry had spanned the ages, and now existed between two blades placed at their throats.

"ENOUGH OF THIS!" The shout echoed throughout the hall. Elves gasped and bowed, realizing that they had been so transfixed that they hadn't noticed Finubar, King of the Elves, enter into the meeting hall. Neither Malossar nor the Shadow Prince relaxed in the slightest, eyes staying locked, unblinking.

Immrik, Ruler of Caledor, grasped Malossar's shoulder and forced him backward, a small band of Shadow Warriors did the same with their prince.

Malossar blinked, the rage of combat slowly fading from his eyes, only then did he realize where he was. "My Lord," Malossar knelt low,"I am sorry to offend, my liege, but that self-righteous Naggarothi swine had insulted our home, our people, and myself. I had no recourse but to teach him a lesson with Caledorian fury."

Immrik shook his head, "Mal, you are perhaps the greatest General of Caledor, second in Ulthuan to only Tyrion himself. You are unparalleled in battle in our kingdom, but, in politics, you are a blind fool. You cannot allow your emotions to take control when a rival insults. You realize a duel has not been fought in the King's halls in over two millenia?"

"No my lord, i did not..."

Immrik sighed, "I wish we had a chance to speak more before your arrival here in Lothern. Things do not bode well in Elith Arvan, the power of the elves is needed now more than ever, and we have few to spare. Unlike most provinces, Caledor has managed to go unharmed or hindered through the last few generations and we have troops to spare. There is power in Caledor, your dragon has awoken no?"

"Yes my lord Immrik, Martouf has awoken from his slumber and seeks battle once more."

"This is fantastic news, I shall report it at once. Now get yourself to the Healers and get your dumb ass cleaned up."

"If it is all right my Lord, I have a personal mage who is more than capable of taking care of this scratch by herself."

"Very well, you're dismissed. And Malossar, stay out of trouble."

Malossar smiled and embraced his Prince, "As the Ruler of Caledor declares, so shall it be." and with that Malossar turned and beckoned to Jezria, and the two departed the hall, and made for the Caledorian encampment.

~~~~~~

"Does it hurt?"

"Nothing your smile can't fix my dear Jezria." She tried to hide her blush with a feigned sweep to one of her curls.

"Let's have a look then shall we?" She knelt in close to Malossar and stood over his shoulder. Malossar was seated, and with his good arm began undoing the binds that held his pauldrons and cloak in place. "Please Mal, allow me." As Jezria set to work on getting to the wound, Malossar's breathing slowed. His eyes traced the soft jaw line, to her high cheek bones. He stared into her auburn eyes for a second, before she could notice, and then moved down her face. His eyes drifted over he long neck line and inhaled. She smelt of Caledor, of smoke rising on the updrafts, of the open air only achievable at altitude, and lastly of fire, the ancient fire that dwelt within the souls of every Caledorian, a fire only the Dragon Princes knew.

Suddenly, a jolt of pain stabbed through him, his adrenaline finally being low enough to register pain again. Instinctively his hand grasped Jezria's waste and squeezed. Alarmed Jezria attempted to step away, only to realize that she was unable to escape the strength of the Dragon Prince's grip. She attempted to pass the move off as a simply adjustment of her weight, but her breathing quickened as did her heart beat.

"You've lost a lot of blood, when he ripped the arrow from your shoulder he severed the artery that supplies the arm with your vitals. Sit tight and i'll have this patched up in no time, but you should consider a sling until the tendons have time to regain their strength."

"That is unnecessary, we have images to uphold and the better I look, the better the Kingdom looks, especially after a duel like that." He pulled on her waist again, this time she moved with him, coming closer, her hand drifted up his shoulder and cupped his face.

"I almost lost you today, I mean WE ALMOST LOST YOU, we" She pulled away and focused, she felt the magic course through her and into his shoulder, tendons knit back together, blood vessels reattached and skin became whole again. Malossar was suprised at the statement, but couldn't hide the joy he felt from hearing it.

"Jezria... I..."

"Save it. Only a week ago you wanted me with your cousin, and now this? I am not an elf's play thing, royal or not!"

"Whoa! You asked if there was someone after you! You always shift and blush in his presence! How dare you blame me for toying with you! I have talked with you, befriended you! How could you have never figured this out?!"

"I just need sometime, ok? Let me figure this out, and th..e.." She couldn't finish, with his left arm Malossar pulled her into his chest, and he held her there, their lips meeting. She tried to press against him, to pull away, but slowly she relaxed and allowed it to happen.

"Just give me sometime, then i'll come to you." And then she left, into the night back towards the halls of the Princes.

~~~~

Malossar dressed, slowly. The pain was still fresh, and his arm was stiff as he put on new britches and tunic and clasped a robe about his neck. He drew his hood and exited his tent. He whistled into the night, and expanded his consciousness into the heavens, searching for the ancient that had roamed the skies before the elves had been birthed into existence by their Gods.

Great beating wings flapped in the breeze, the wind buffeting all other sound as the dragon landed. Malossar bowed, and approached the ancient. He rubbed his snout and the hard scales along Martouf's neck.

"Care for a ride, oh great elf lord, slayer of many, but ever the fool with elf maids?"

Malossar didn't answer, but climbed into his saddle, there was no need for the reins, Martouf would guide him to where they needed to go.

"Martouf how long have we known each other?"

"Well since you were a lad, when you first came to the mountains with the other noble children."

"Why did you choose me? I am not so much of a fool to believe that I could control the strength of the dragons, or even to guile you into my service as a mount."

"Then you are wise, for I did choose you that day Mal. You were one of many, but amongst the dribble of the other Elf hatchlings you had potential. You weren't afraid of me, you never stumbled even when I glared directly at you. You have the blood of Caledor I that flows strongly through your veins. Do you remember what the first thoughts you and I shared that day?"

" You told me, 'Kill well little one.' I have never forgotten. My whole life since reaching manhood, and signing up into the service with the Cavalry of Caledor, I have known war. I have fought Druchii, Man, Beast Daemon, Lizard, Dwarf, and the Undead. I have campaigned on Ulthuan, and in her colonies. I have bled, wept, and lost all for the glory of our kingdoms. But yet, I want something more. I want a life greater than Zyion can carve. I want a legacy outside of war."

"You are Asur, like Dragon you may never know life without blood shed. Why do you suppose we choose to sleep away the millenia? Have you considered for a moment, that we are perhaps exhausted of the ceaseless fighting? How many years have you known peace Malossar?"

"5 years, and none of them have been joined."

"And how did you feel during those five years? As I recall you were most unpleasant to be around."

"You're right, I was enraged, moody, depressed, my heart sang for combat, but it was never forthcoming."

"That is why I am still awake and why you were chosen to lead me to battle. You and I are from the same clutch of eggs, Mal. We were meant to be in battle, we are at home in battle. You bring peace to the masses of Ulthuan, some will never have to bleed for it. But, the countless you have slain, the countless who have died under your command, you remember every single one of them, and that's why you may never share the peace your people fervously seek..."

"You are correct as always Martouf." Malossar's hand carressed the spines of the Dragon's back. His hand tightening with every thought that passed between the pair as they soared through the heavens. "We were borne for war. We are tools of war."

"And we shall die in war. Kill well little one."

~~~~

The council reconvened. Finubar rose from his exalted seat and addressed the crowd.

"You may question why we have gathered here, expecially since all of us have gathered. War is coming to Ulthuan once again and we must be prepared. Malekith's armies are marching, to the South the raid Lustria, to the North their borders are steadfast against the Chaos Wastes and their fleet prowls the water between us. In Elith Arvan, the mountains have vomitted forth Orc tribes of untold numbers. Skaven crawl from their caverns, and the Chaos God's have began marshalling their armies."

Finubar paused to allow his words to sink in.

"I have summoned you all, because we need to be ready for the inevitable, the Druchii will invade, and the Kingdoms of men will fall under seige. We all have duties that we cannot ignore. Each of you shall be briefed in turn, for now, will the Princes of Caledor come with me."

Malossar rose and followed Immrik into private chambers. Maps were strewn across tables, chairs were forgotten in corners. Goblets held wine for the Generals.

"Ah Prince Immrik, its good to speak with you." Immrik and Malossar bowed low to the Phoenix King. "I have a task that needs looking after, will the Caledorians answer?"

"Whatever the King desires, shall be so" spoke Immrik.

"Good. An island has appeared off the coast of Marienburg. A dark wizard sought Daemonhood in his watch tower located in the center of the isle. Witch hunters of Sigmar purged the taint and now a struggle has erupted in claiming the island. The Asur have a claim to this island, it is of grave tactical importance. You see this 'Wizard' tower holds ancient documents penned in the days of Caledor the Dragontamer, we need to recover those so they cannot fall into the wrong hands again. Not only that, but strategically this island is vital. From here we are in striking distance of Elith Arvan to either support or force our hand into its doings. Our ships will be able to make port here and trade should increase."

"I understand My Lord, but you spoke of Malekith's armies returning to Ulthuan soon, is it not best for us to first focus on defending our own borders before attempting to conquer new swathes of territory?"

"Immrik, I am not blind to know of the late successes Caledor has been having. But also I need a Commander that sees war from a bigger picture, that knows how to lead a campaign and doesn't have ties to defending his province."

"I must stay here in Ulthuan My Lord, my people need me, however allow me to introduce Prince Malossar, High Commander of Caledor."

Malossar bowed at the mention of his name and title of office. "My King, I will accept this honor. I only have a few logistical inquiries..."


~~~~

Wow! sorry that was a lot i'll try and update it soon!
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#7 Post by Headshot »

Hmmm.... You know, Palin'Talinth's account of that fight is somewhat different. Something about the Caledorian blowhard belittling the phalluses of everyone else in the room.... (By the way, what does 'overcompensating' mean?) And then threatening the women-folk of Nagarythe!

Well, that's how the story is told in the North. :wink:

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P.S. All this because your nephew Calossar bought it in a brothel in Ellyrion. I'm sure he was just there for 'health inspection' duties....
Last edited by Headshot on Thu Nov 24, 2011 7:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#8 Post by Malossar »

I hope you don't mind, I saw your character and realized it was the perfect foil for Malossar.

Plus Caledor vs. Nagarythe is an ancient rivalry. Much like Florida vs. Florida State and Texas vs. Texas A&M ;)
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#9 Post by Headshot »

Don't mind at all! I had always hoped that we on this forum could get a 'critical mass' of storytellers going. Y'know, to share characters and tales, and just flesh out Ulthuan all the more. Maybe someday have a 'Bard's College' of our very own.... :D

And I'm actually a big fan of working rivalries in. Kinda scrape off all that shiney-shine on the high elf image, and give a bit of personality and imperfection to them.

Not sure how the Shadow Lord/Malossar rivalry will develop. The way I've seen him so far is as a guy filled with rage, but in the 'cold' sort of way: generally calm and calculating. Not easy to give into fits of temper. Unlike what I imagine a 'hot' Caledorian would. Anyways, at some point in the future I know he counsels Narrin'Tim about tolerance towards other Asur. 'Brothers all' and all that. So he seems to be pretty, if not tolerant, at least able to endure the other kingdoms. But perhaps he learns that through his interactions with Malossar? Hmmmm....

Happy Giving of Thanks.

Oh, and don't forget Squanto!

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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#10 Post by Malossar »

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I completely agree with your analysis of the shadow lord. I figured his initial insult in the first part of the story wasn't to merely insult Mal but to judge his temper and see how far he could push the caledorian until he snapped.

I picture Mal maturit wise as twenty five year old. Still cocky and believing he's in invincible but being mature enough to begin guessing his greater purpose and start to develop a more matured view towards non caledorians.

I sorta pictured the shadow lord being slightly older. And more of a greater judge of an elves true purpose; kinda like a forlorn prophet keeping asurian's people together through conflict...


Hmmm... Thoughts?
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#11 Post by Headshot »

Main thought, is just that I look forward to hearing more of the story, and how you develop the characters. I think its gonna be a rousing good read!

About the dynamics between Mal and the Shadow Lord. I don't think I have much to add. The little I've seen of him has been him interacting with fellow Nagarathi. So someone who is aloof, but fiercely loyal to his friends. I'm not sure what he would be like to elves from the other kingdoms. Or say with fellow princes of the Conclave. Hmmmm.... I guess I always just assumed that with Nagarythe's poverty and relative military insignificance, that he would be ignored. A sort of token, non-entity at these things. Certainly not a major player; either in terms of military assets or wealth.

I'm not sure about the age thing either, now that you mention it. How old is Malossar? I know that the Shadow Lord was a young soldier who participated in King Morvael's invasion of Naggaroth. So he must be over a thousand. Actually, I think gatti might know more of these things than I do; the age, and early years, I mean. All I know is he wanted to be a gardner..... Not exactly a raging egomaniac! :) Anyways, your story did read like the Shadow Lord was the older of the two.

Ok, rambled enough. Looking forward to the next part.

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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#12 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Do Caledorians live to a great age? All this interacting with Dragons and all the fighting they seem to do, surely makes for shorter life span =P
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#13 Post by Malossar »

Ok after much debate i've decided to keep Malossar on the younger side, note that a lot of this will be a continual thought oozing out on a keyboard so bear with me:

In the Shadow King, it states that a High Elf male is conisdered to come of age at the age of 30 (seems a little young, but oh well) of course this could be different in every kingdom, but i'll use that as a reference point.

Lets generalize an say Malossar was half century old when the Battle of Finuval Plain occurs, that would put at exactly 251 years going by the the current timeline in the book.

So that would seem quite young to be considered an outstanding High Elf general...

However, i want to keep him young enough that he would stupid enough to join Eltharion in his raid on Naggarond.

We don't know a rough estimate at how long Elves in the Warhammer world tend to live, we do know that they do die of old age, but old we don't know.

Bel Korhadis regined for roughly 1200 years, but how old was he when he was crowned the Phoenix king? Was he 1,000? Was he 600? He does die of old age and is buried in the White Tower.

What if we, for the sake of sanity, round out that an average elf's life expectancy would be 2,000 years.

That would mean that only 12% of Malossar's life would be over at present day. Seems to young to be Caledor's High Warlord, so let's age him a bit...

I'll place him at 520 years old, basically putting him at 26% of his life spent. I feel this is a happy medium considering he's still young enough to be dumb enough to raid Naggarond, but old enough to have been established as an excellent field general and master swords man.

He's now also at the age to be able to question things like life outside of war, love, wanting to settle, being just displaced enough to be uncomfortable with his surroundings...

So a timeline:


Imperial calender for reference: roughly 2502 IC as present year.

Born: 1982 IC

Fights in Finuval Plain at age : 319 (old enough to lead a contingent of Dragon Princes into combat)

Raids Naggarond at age: 441

High Warlord of Caledor : 520

Some more background:

Grandson of Mentheus, yes his father was killed rather tragically before Malossar was born, i'll have to come up with a more detailed background later. Should help explain part of his tactical guile.


Thoughts, concerns, considerations, critques of the story/timeline/writing???

Thanks!
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#14 Post by Headshot »

I think it is pretty solidly reasoned out. The only issue I can see is the relationship between Malossar and Kurnion. Both Kurnion and the Shadow Prince served in Morvael's invasion of Naggaroth in 1122 I.C. as young warriors. So that puts them up at the 1500ish mark. In that case, Mal at 500 almost seems 'whippersnapperish'. But maybe that is anthropocentricism? And the fact that he is so highly regarded among the princes already is a sign of his accomplishments.

Oh, about Gav's 30. Yep, I heard it before but I pretty much ignore it. It seems a very small number for an elf to master the cultural nuances of being an Asur to such an extent to be considered an 'adult'. Or to put it another way, I think that physical, biological maturity happens somewhere in the middle of an elf's first century - so full growth, capacity for sexual activity, etc. But that this has little to do with being an 'adult'. Which is determined by cultural values. That's why jwg20 and I discussed it, and set the rather arbitrary, but with some numerical weight, of having the first century mark the passage between 'child' to 'adult'. Of course, as you pointed out that this could just be a northern thing - Nagarythe, Chrace, maybe Cothique. And things are very different in the south.

Death and aging.... hmmm, I really should explore this more. I wonder how much the death of elves is due to 'decay'; cellular breakdown, preplanned failure on a genetic level. And how much is psychological (losing the desire to continue), due to illness, or accumulated injuries, etc.

All of this is good stuff to daydream about, and nice fodder for stories.

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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#15 Post by jwg20 »

I see Kurnion and Vaal (the shadow prince) to be around 2000 years old (current year in the warhammer fluff is somewhere around 2500 yes?). Kurnion turned 100 in the year IC 586, so that would put him at just over 2000 years old. I agree with Headshot, and elves likely only die of "age" when they give up the will to live. Elves can live to be very, very old if they want to. After all, isn't Alith Anar, the Shadow King over 4500 years old, having been born shortly before Aenerion's death? Kurnion's father lives quite an age too, as he would have to be around 3000 years old when Tarabeth was born. I think those that die earlier of age die because of the toll they take both physically and mentally over their long years, rather than any cellular breakdown their body undergoes. Those that posses a strong sense of purpose like the Shadow King and the Shadow Prince Vaal, (or those that are just absurdly stubborn like Chracians) tend to live longer than the more "romantically idealized" elves of other kingdoms like Caledor or Saphery, who are more likely to have their heart give out from emotional and physical toil.

The Malossar in my story I think is in fact your Malossar's father. Given much thought to that? If his father was killed before Malossar was born, that would explain why his mother named him after his father; to connect him to his father despite the fact that they are separated by death. That would mean that the unnamed Prince of Caledor present at Kurnion's ascension is none other than Mentheus, which also fits as he had not been named general of Ulthuan yet (that comes around 1000 years later).

Oh, and don't worry Headshot, I am planning on bringing in more of the darkness of Vaal's mentality in the next chapter of Kurnion's story. :D I may even address the shift from prospective gardener to follower of the former Shadow Prince in a later story.
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#16 Post by Malossar »

I think i was attempting to fit Mal into a too small of a timeline.

If in fact we can ignore the age factor then he can well be 2,000 years old. I placed all of our princes younger simply because i thought GW had put an expiration date on an Elf's life.

If however. we realize that an Elf simply ends his life not to mortal decay but because He/she has run out of purpose then it all makes since.

I'd rather keep Malossar on par with Kurnion and Vaal, sort of a mysterious triangle between three totally different kingdoms.

Plus a Caledorian is also brash and impetous so he might as well join in some daring assaults ;)

At this point, Mentheus could just be Malossar's father, one less person we have to write fluff for

thoughts?
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#17 Post by Headshot »

Sounds good to me! And that would mean there's a lot of history to explore between the three. Hmmm I'm thinking that kurnion is the calming influence among the three; the friend that mediates between mal and the shadow lord.

Imagine that- a chracian diplomat! :)

By the way gatti, about young Vaal. I was thinking that when he was coming back from naggaroth he had a young wife waiting for him. But in that one story we see his wife "now" with a very young son. So unless they were incredibly infertile couple.... Why no baby before now?

Maybe then Vaal was married before, and this wife is number two? Whatever happened to the first wife might be part of the darkening of the character....

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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#18 Post by jwg20 »

Hmm, okay Mal, Vaal, and Kurnion all about the same age, and Kurnion is the calming influence. That fits his personality as well, or how I imagine him. I see him as an elf who always puts kinship above all else. Probably due to the hordes he faces coming down from the mountains; elves must band together despite enmity. Vaal, on the other hand, it fits him to hold grudges and be suspicious of anyone outside his immediate family, given the history of his kingdom. Malossar meanwhile is proud like all Caledorians. Seems to fit. I guess Mal would be around 50 or so at the time of Kurnion's ascension? Or is it that Vaal is older than Kurnion by a century or two? But I agree given the story, it seems that Vaal is older than Mal by at least a little, and he was just trying to provoke him at the meeting.

Yeah, as far as I am aware, Game Workshop never put an expiration date on the lives of elves. As I said, the "official" fluff has Alith Anar being born well before the sundering, and he is still alive in the current fluff. I think its most likely that elves "die" when their purpose has been served or when they lose the will to live. Those elves that have a higher purpose or those that are simply too stubborn to die (like Kurnion) keep living.

I also think that coming "of age" varies by territory. It would make sense that the Shadowlands have a lower age than other kingdoms; them being a region where life is cheap and they are constantly at war. For Chrace, I see it as being when they have learned the language of Kurnus and are considered powerful enough to brave the mountains and kill a lion (around 100 in my fluff). Caledorians, it seems, would reach adulthood when they are mature enough to journey to the mountains and see the dragons in their slumber; young elves not being mentally strong enough to handle the presence of those mental giants. Other 'softer' kingdoms it could even be as old as 300 or more, as they are pretty removed from the conflicts of Nagyrthe, Chrace, and Caledor, and they may require certain cultural knowledge in addition to physical prowess before they are considered an adult.

When was the Shadow Prince coming back from Naggaroth? Are you referring to the invasion of IC 1123 (under Moravel)? I heard no one survived that, so that could be quite a story if Vaal made it back from that somehow! Or was there another time I am forgetting?

About Vaal and his wife, it could be his second wife, I haven't thought about that yet. That is up to you. It could also be explained by the dark magic of the Vortex. As I talked about in my fluff, the vortex interrupts the nature of the elves (them being a very magical race), and makes it very difficult for a couple to get pregnant. After all, Kurnion's father and his mother took just under 2000 years to have a second child after Kurnion (the second being Tarabeth), so it could just be really unpredictable after the incursion of chaos and the creation of the vortex. Thats sort of what I was hinting at. It was also the only explanation I could come up with as to why the elves, being a race that lives thousands of years, are a dying race. Makes sense in my own head...

Or, it could be, as you say, his second wife and it could have been a long time before he remarried. Things to be explored!
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#19 Post by Headshot »

Yep both Vaal and palin'tanith made it back from that moravel invasion. Don't believe the propaganda! It's easier to say "everyone died" then to deal with the political criticisms of the survivors. History being written to simplify things.... ;) and as tanith said, "nobody talks about it (the invasion) now..."

Nope! Life isn't cheap in nagarythe!! It's even more precious because of the violence we face all the time. We value it so much because we know it can be cut short at any given moment. It's one of those things that really separate the nagarathi from the druchii! We refused to go down that path....

So we cling to our old customs. And coming of age is 100; just like in chrace. Being a full grown nagarathi is no easier than being a chracian highland barbarian! ;)
Even someone as uneducated as narrin'tim (at least in formal, book terms) still had decades of years of martial training, and had to memorize thousands of hours of oral history. No easy feat!

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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#20 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

I love all the reasoning and fluff notes being made, but can we have more story time now please?
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#21 Post by Malossar »

Alright its 2:45 am, and the wife is still awake working on her thesis for Masters and since i don't have work in the morning i might at well get back to working on some fluff.

And we're back!


Malossar stretched, he had been poring over maps since he had awoken, his eyes begged him for a break. He rubbed his eyes and willed them to continue examining this last document before he rested. Casualty predictions from the initial result and through the remainder of the campaign. Supply lines, detailing when and where the Dragon Ships of Caledor could resupply the main battle force. Finally, a timeline, it was estimated that mere decade would suffice in clearing the island, and setting about proper fortifications, then finally establishing his capital and influence on the wider world. The bargain had been struck, win the island for Ulthuan and she would be an official colony of Caledor, a place where he could set his keep and home, and begin a new era for his family and his people. All he had to do was win one more greater war, and he might finally know peace...

"My Lord, Prince Kurnion of Chrace wishes an audience."

"Of course, fetch us some wine and what food you can muster."

"At once my Lord." The servant bowed and exited the tent, bowing again as Kurnion entered.

"Well that was one hell of a show you put on today." Kurnion started, eager to pick the Caledorian's brain for his thoughts on the conflict.

Malossar sighed and rubbed his shoulder, "I needed a new scar, might as well have been showing what these Fops who call themselves Princes what true swordsmanship is. How's Vaal?"

"As jovial as ever," Kurnion grunted at his own sarcasm, "How many times have you two met in the last thousand years and it hasn't resulted in the two of you drawing Spite and Zyion?"

"I think that answer would be... twice? Oh stop Kurnion no one is going to end up dead; other than you, and Tyrion of course, Vaal's the only elf on this island worth getting into a scrap with."

"Alright alright, i've said my peace," Kurnion's eyes light up, " So what news from Finubar? What grave task has he set you with?"

"Kurnion, this has to stay between the two of us, do you understand?" Kurnion nodded, "Good, there's an island off the coast of Elith Arvan, almost 200 leagues from the port of Marienburg. An old sorcerer sought Daemonhood there, until he ended up on the receiving end of Witch Hunter's stake. There are certain tomes there that Finubar wants returned, as well as the power of island back in the hands of the Asur. On Lord Imrik's reference I was selected to lead the campaign. Now I ask you Kurnion, will you join me in this glorious campaign, win honor and glory with me at your side as we did when we stormed Anlec?"

"Wow, Mal, that's... quite the meeting." Kurnion's shoulders suddenly sagged with the weight that was thrust upon him when he assumed rulership of Chrace. Kurnion was born and raised to be a warrior, but fate forced politics on the sturdy elf and the weariness has never left his face, save when he laughs. "I cannot Mal, you know this... I thank you for the offer, how fearsome we would be? You a Dragon Prince of old, me... the King of Chrace mounted on the back of the Avatar of Kurnous hewing and cleaving our legacy on the bones of our foes! Glorious! But Chrace calls to me, and my duty is to her and her people. I can hardly spare any additional troops, Finubar told informed us to seek to our own defense first, the Black Arks have taken to the seas, and Malekith is preparing for another invasion. Chrace is not safe like Caledor is Mal. The Druchii (Kurnion and Mal spit to the ground at the mention of their hated kin) come Malossar, we must be prepared. But, i can spare 1,000 of some of my more green troops, better they learn the art of war fighting the rabbles of the Old World than the worshipers of the bloody handed God."

"1,000 soldiers is all Chrace can spare?
"I am sorry Mal, but that is all." Malossar sighed, this was going to be harder than he thought.

~~~~~~~

Malossar stepped out into the night, he had received his final troop estimations, his army numbered close to 20,000. Strong enough to establish a hold on the island, but he feared it wouldn't be enough. Once Kurnion had left, word had spread that Malossar was leading an invasion on new territory, and every Prince in Ulthuan felt he had claim to part of this new land. The afternoon was filled with troop promises, supply requests, and rewards to be split amongst those Princes who would aide the cause. Most of this came in the form of gold others in new treaties of trade.

Malossar grew weary of it all, his heart sang to be in the midst of battle once again. He stumbled out of the camp and into the wilds of Eataine. He longed for the sulfurous scents that blew down the mountains where the dragon's rested. His mind ran wild, from the duel, to his meeting with Finubar, to meeting Kurnion, and to Jezria... her form, her face, the way she had attended to him after his scrap with Vaal... and lastly his mind settled on his upcoming conquest. His father had been the great Mentheus, Conqueror of Anlec, famous in combat, and a ruthless general. Mal was there when his father was slain...

He was atop Martouf, flying high to avoid the Reaper Bolt Throwers that perched the walls, circling the upper spires, attempting to catch their breath. They had already defeated two black dragons that day. Both Mal and Martouf were bloody and exhausted, but the fighting for the day was yet over. He knew his father would press for one final assault to break the morale of the druchii, if they were succesful Anlec would be raised before the sun set on this day, all he waited was for the signal. His father approached him on his dragon, Alainar, they were flying fast, the assault would come soon.

"Son, its good to see your still alive, how's the day treating you?"

"Well father, it seems we have removed any threat from a counter aerial assault this morning, we await your final command."

"You are to land Martouf back at the camp, once we have breached the gate the dragons will be little help, only large targets for crossbow bolt fire. Malossar, you're in the forward assault party on the left tower adjacent to the gate. When you arrive back in camp you are to answer to an elf named Vaal, he is your commanding officer am i understood?"

"Yes father, I shall see you at the end... Kill well Father!" With that Martouf tilted down spiraling back towards the earth, she inhaled and Mal could feel the heat building in her throat. She glided over the forward wall, an unleashed a gout a flame, searing flesh and melting armor. Malossar decapitated those fortunate enough to escape the flame. They swept over the wall one last time scattering defenders and silencing the Reapers, buying the Asur on the ground time to withdraw out of range from the city and prepare for one final push. Martouf landed in the camp, three mages grabbing her reins and beginning to address her wounds.

"Will you be alright Martouf?" Mal thought their minds still linked.

"The only thing in question is my back, you've been putting on the pounds Mal, time to get you back in shape, better start running again."

"Be a dragon prince Mal, nothing greater than riding a dragon Mal, they used to say. No one ever told me I to put up with a drama queen all day."

"Yeah, yeah, just watch your ass for me, would hate to see it pierced by a Druchii bolt, but it might take off a few much needed pounds."

Malossar reported to his company and mounted the horse waiting for him. The lead elf approached him, "You must be... the Caledorian... I am Vaal and these are my people the Shadows. Understand this, I am leading this assault, and you would be wise to follow me or you'll get yourself killed. Now lose the armor, it will only slow you down."

Mal was shocked, a Caledorian going to combat without armor!? Just as he was about to argue, a shadow passed over and he felt Alaif's conscious brush the fringes of his thoughts, and Malossar did as he was told. The elf next to him passed him extra greaves, bracers and an extra jerkin. Malossar passed his armor to a servant who was to take it back to his tent under penalty of death. He donned his apparel and clasped his cloak around his shoulders, the shadowy grey color of the house of Mentheus. He tied his green hair back, and mounted the steed horse once again.

Vaal spoke as the horns sounding the charge blasted. "Naggarathi! Heed me! Today we drive the Accrursed from our homes once again! A days paid vacation for every Druchii scalp you bring me" The Naggarothi laughed at their Lord's remarks as the formation moved out. Vaal reared his steed and the company thundered across the plains toward Anlec. The mage at the center of the formation called upon the Winds of Magic and a great shield enveloped the host sheltering them from bolt fire. The occasional bolt pierced the shield those unlucky enough to fall were trampled in the charge. The company passed under the tower as the battering rams thudded into the gate, Grappling hooks were unleashed as Asur pulled themselves from their horses mid stride and began clambering up the walls. Mal followed suit, amazed at the grace of the barbarians from the Shadow lands.

As he clambered over the wall, Mal drew Zyion and the killing began in earnest. He was back to back with Vaal, wielding a tremendous sword that far outreached Mal's axe. They were killing machines, killing and hewing towards the tower where the gate's lever waited to be released. Vaal burst out into song, and Mal was stunned to find himself singing along as he cut a bloody swathe through the wall's defenders. They sang the poems of Aenarion, then of Caledor the Dragon Tamer, finally ending in perfect harmony the tale of the Sundering. As they sang the hatred blazed in the eyes of the Naggarothi and the Druchii fell before them. Mal was caught up in the blood lust and no quarter was given, he hacked limbs, torso's and heads through to the center of the tower. Vaal reached out and worked the mechanisms controlling the gate, and the city was open...

What seemed like days passed, weeks, months, but mere hours as the Asur drove back the Druchii from Anlec and from the shores of Ulthuan. The sun set crimson, over a field of corpses, a reeking testimony to the treachery of the Druchii and their Witch King. Malossar's arms were numb he could barely move them. He was covered in blood, he wasn't entirely sure how much of it belonged to him. He called out to his father, but he received no answer. As he passed under the black spires he spotted Alaif collapsed on the streets inside the wall, his body pierced with a thousand bolts. "NO!" Malossar screamed and he dropped Zyion and sprinted towards the dragon's corpse. He passed under the ancient's wing to where his Father lay, blood pooling around him. Malossar knelt, and placed his Father's head in his lap.

"Father! FATHER!!! Can you hear me? Blood of Khaine!" Malossar ended in a curse, as he saw the rent in his father's armor where a bolt from a Reaper had pierced his side, and the dagger wounds that marked the worshipers of Khaine.

"Mal..." his father was weak, but he managed to open his eyes, and smiled. "We are Caledorian son, we are born into battle, we live in battle, and we die in battle. Kill well son." With the eulogy of the Dragon Princes on his lips, the great General passed into the boon of Asuryan and left Malossar in a courtyard of corpses.

~~~~

Malossar returned to the present, the sea breeze filling his lungs. His father had been hailed as a modern Hero of Ulthuan. Would this campaign be the feat Mal was finally remembered for?

"Remembering old Glories High Warlord of Caledor?" The sneer came over the breeze from the shadow ten paces to Mal's left.

"Aye, Vaal, remembering how you saved my ass in Anlec."

"Ah yes Anlec," Vaal spit at the mention of its name, "forever a blight on my beautiful homeland. Tell me Mal, why do you wander from the camp so late at night? What troubles you?"

"Have you not heard Shadow? We are to take an island for the glory of Ulthuan."

"Glory, heh," Vaal spat again, "tell me, what good is glory in battle against the Druchii?"

"I will not argue this with you again Vaal, The Phoenix King has commanded so I go. Will you aide me?"

"Serve under an arrogant fool like you? Never. Nor can I leave Nagarythe with the invasion imminent. Corsair ships have already been spotted within landing distance, Shades have probably already began their assault while I must deal with trivial meetings. I can spare nothing."

"Nothing? I had expected that, the Naggarothi will only help when its most beneficial to themselves. I should have never asked." Mal turned to leave, when Vaal interjected, "Mal, I have ten warriors who will go, if you sacrifice their lives for yours... there'll be hell to pay. They can leave at a moments notice and will be under direct orders from you from this moment hence, do not waste this gift." And with that Vaal was gone, and Mal was left in the wilderness, alone.

For the first time since arriving to this dreaded gathering, Mal smiled.
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#22 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

The death of Mentheus, so sad. Your campaign is ill timed, with an imminent assault by druchii, one of Caledor's best is sent to take a small island? I hope your mission is as important as the Phoenix King believes.
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#23 Post by Headshot »

Ok, finally got a read in!

First thought - love it! \:D/

Second thought - we get paid vacations?????! :D

So what's the timeline you are playing with here? (I get all confused in my fluff.) Which siege of Anlec was the flashback? And the Prince's conclave was right after the Shadow Lord got back from the Empire, right?

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P.S. So Vaal was the old commander, hmmmm. Obviously needed to smack a little more respect into Mal. :wink:
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#24 Post by Malossar »

OK timeline:

Siege of Anlec as in the last one when Morvael was still king, when he committed suicide, as Mentheus was slain during the final siege of Anlec.

Yes the Council of Princes happens right as the Shadow Prince returns from the Empire rescuing his Son ;)

@ your Post Script

Why do you think Mal is so pissy around Vaal lol, maybe not a little bitterness that he was forced to suffer the taking of the gate instead of dying at the side of his father?
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#25 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

thelordcal wrote:OK timeline:Why do you think Mal is so pissy around Vaal lol, maybe not a little bitterness that he was forced to suffer the taking of the gate instead of dying at the side of his father?
Well played Cal, exactly how a Dragon Prince would see it.
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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Re: The Rise of Prince Malossar

#26 Post by Malossar »

Time for an update:


The last year had been a blur. It started with the assault on the beach heads of the island on the first of the year, Malossar had caught the men of the Empire unaware as he attacked in a blinding squall, shattering any militant effort out forth by the Emperor of Man. He had then led his army East shattering the Worshippers of Chaos from their holds in the northern mountains. It had been two weeks since he had driven Zyion through the mutated sorcerer of Tzeentch, he needed another opponent and soon.

Aleadra entered his tent. The Asrai Sorceress had been dispatched to lead a sizeable band of warriors in an attempt to cleanse the island of the Chaotic taint, according to her a tribe of Beastmen were on the brink of discovering the means to shadow walk into Athel Loren, Aleadra was here to prevent that through extermination.

Malossar was suprised with how much he was drawn to her, she was lithe, short for an elf, but carried herself with a grace that the handmaidens of the Everqueen would be loathe to witness. They had struck an immediate alliance, full access to maps, supply lines, and even battle field treaties were agreed upon. They had two distinct missions, hers was a seek and destroy then return, Malossar's was nothing short of total conquest.

"So i trust the Sorcerer's head was to your liking?"

"Heh, was hoping for a thicker skull so I might have sent it back to Finubar in a nicely wrapped box."

"Well... he must be thankful you didn't. What news?"

"My scouts have reported a dwarf encampent 100 leagues south west of our current position. Due west of our position here, the Ogre Tribe of 'Da Gutrippas?' bloody neanderthals... And further south an ancient Tomb King has awoken and is on the march seeking claim."

"What of the hated?"

"There is no sign of the Druchii."

"Damnit Mal, you know that's not who I was inquiring about, what of the Beastmen."

"My apologies Lady Aleadra, you must forgive my ignorance, the Asur have only one hated enemy. But in response to your question, the vile Beast spawn of Chaos lie directly south of this tent."

"Distance?"

"Perhaps, a league or two?"

"So... when do we begin?"

****

The battle with the Beasts was underwhelming to say the least. The Asrai had moved behind their position, and with concentrated bow fire, forced the Beasts into an open field where the Asur were waiting. Malossar had heard tales of Doombulls hewing whole regiments and gutting heros, but was severely disappointed when after a "dramatic" duel had left Malossar's armor's paint barely scratched and his adversary dead in the dirt.

Another cycle of the moon passed and Malossar and Aleadra were nearing the Tower at the center of the island. The Dwarves had made contact, and they were to meet the grudge holders at a neutral location at the mid point of the day. Malossar took flight with Martouf leading 2,000 elves to the location. The 35th Caledorian Spear Regiment, a band of Phoenix Guard led by his Battle Standard Bearer Enkago, and the archers led by Jezria and his nephew Talossar. The sun was warm slowly lulling the Dragon Prince and his steed into a false sense of ease. Martouf lazily rode the updrafts, circling over the glittering elven host. Aleadra had elected to lead the Asrai further south to investigate the growing threat of the Tomb King, the goal was to establish relations with the dwarves while the final threat of the Ogres and Undead were managed.

Suddenly a crack broke the serene silence... then screams. A hole of broken bodies had appeared in the spear regiment. Then another crack, and his body guard of white lions were disappearing. Another crack and the archers were under fire. The air filled with blasts and explosions as the artillery of the dwarves reigned hell upon the Asur host.

"Fall back! " Malossar screamed, they were ambushed, he had no idea where his enemy lay, and he could do nothing as his men were being torn to shreds. "Martouf, full speed, head for the sounds of the fire, we need to buy them some time down there!"

"As you wish," there was the ever present humor and arrogance in the star dragon's tone.

They dove, Malossar could see the small blasts of gun powder ahead, but they'd have to cross a killing field to get there. Below Enkago sounded the retreat, elves were dying all around him, they needed to find cover. He looked skyward, watching Mal and Martouf dive towards the warmachines.

Another blast signaled a snarl of pain from Martouf, a cannon ball had broken her wing and they were closer to a fall now than a well controlled dive. Another blast ripped through her flank, ancient blood that had flowed through her veins before the Coming of Chaos now streaked through the air. Malossar gritted his teeth, for the first time in almost two millenia, he was concerned about the outcome of a battle. Three heartbeats pass and Malossar is jumping out of the saddle and rolling to the ground and hacking apart dwarf crew. They step up just to be slaughtered by Zyion, but he isn't swift enough. Another blast hits Martouf square in the chest and sends her careening into the ground. With a finally crack, the dragon collides with the ground and is still.

Fury consumes him. He no longer see his enemies but knows they are present. Mal cuts a red swathe through the smelling heap of dwarfs, cleaving skulls, hacking limbs, and smashing the vile machines as he fights his way to Martouf. Silence envelops the cliffs once again.

"Martouf!"

"Well it seems, you will out live you me arrogant bastard."

"No, no, Jezria can mend this, hell I could mend this!" A low grumbling tells Mal that Martouf is laughing.

"Kill well, Dragon Prince of Caledor!" and she is silent. As Mal watches, a green fire dies in the eyes of the Dragon, a fury finally subsided, the end of something far more ancient than even the elves. The Fury enters into Mal, he roars his challenge to the heavens. Marching boots ring out now, the dwarves are approaching. The death chants sung by the Dragon Princes of the time of Aenarion enters his heart, and exits his lips. He sings, stretching, and testing his blade. He starts to walk at first, then enters into a run, directly toward the sound of the marching, yes, his death would come, but he was determined to take out the traitor before it happened... another crack entered his ears when he realized it was his cheek hitting the ground. Two elves were on top of him, eyes black and heads shaved.

"Stay down, Mal, or you're going to get yourself killed and i'm under strict orders from the Lord of the Host to not let that happen."

"Get off me Naggarothi, it is my time, let me meet him in battle one last time."

"You mean the dwarf traitor or set the ambush?"

"The very same"

"He isn't present on the field today, he sits back at his fortress under lock and key waiting news of their victory." Malossar nodded and stood up as the romani allowed. He shook off his rage, and took stock of the situation, the marching was growing closer but was still a ways off.

"Casualty report"

"The Lady Jezria is safe, as is your nephew Talossar, Enkago was wounded but will mend shortly. The Phoenix Guard and the Dragon Guard made it out mostly unscathed. But the 35th, its gone my Lord."

"Your losses? "

"We're present and accounted for, just awaiting your orders."

"Gather her teeth, and burn the corpse, they shall not have the victory of claiming it. Send two of your scouts with instructions to the army to fall back and regroup with the main army. As for the other Eight we have a much longer journey ahead to make it back to friendly territory. Your name Shadow Walker?"

"Dannyth my Lord."

"Well Dannyth, lets hope we make it out of this together!"

Malossar striped his armor, keeping his cloak, and leathers on. He passed them to the forward scouts who could make faster time to rejoin the main force, with the armor they departed. Mal set to work removing Martouf's ancient teeth, they held power, and was tradition if the Rider lived to take the weapons of his mount with him into battle. The Romani led by Dannyth built a pyre and set it alight. The small band then moved out, striking towards the mountain, in hopes to lead the dwarves from the retreating host, into the wilds.

They moved slowly at first, wishing to allow their tracks to be spotted, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with the Dwarven Scouts. They slept frequently at first, wishing to allow the shorter legs of the drunked grudge keepers to keep pace, but slowly they began to out pace them, only to begin circling back to strike at their rear. The trap had worked, the dwarves were following the lower portion of the circle while the Romani and Malossar had doubled back and were now upon them. They waited until night fall when the roaring and laughter filled the night air. Only a few more hours and the grudge keepers would be fully drunk and satiated, then they would strike.


Dannyth whistled, the other seven echoed his tone. Malossar stayed to the shadows, he thought of Kurnion and the hunts they had in their youth, it was finally coming in handy. The Romani struck like wolves in the night, stalking silently from tent to tent. They slit the throats of the Dwarves while they were still in their beds. What they thought was a scouting force, turned out to be an entire regiment of Dwarf Rangers, complete with enough beer to feed the entire army of Malossar for a year! Zyion quivered on his back, this was work for a knife, not the war axe of ancients. The whole process took only an hour. An hour of throat slashing leaving 200 hundred dwarves dead in their wake, and only one left alive.

"What do we do with the bodies Mal?"

"Shave their beards, leave them where they sleep."

"And the one that's still alive?"

"He's for me."

Malossar stared into the eyes of the dwarf, still a little drunk to completely acknowledge what was happening by was frightened all the same.

"I'm giving you a package, I want you to take it to your Dwarf Lord. Nod if you understand. Good. This package is of vital importance, only he may open it. I need you to nod, it will have to suffice as an oath. If you do this then I promise I won't shave your beard, do you acknowledge." With the notion of losing his beard the dwarf nodded hurriedly, pleading worry filled his eyes. "Excellent, now there's only one last measure of business to attend to..."

*******

The Dwarf Lord, Krongi Meadebeard was tucked safely underneath the mountains, just where a dwarf belonged. this war had gone well, he had destroyed the greenskin and skaven infestation that were immediate threats and his first strike on the pompous Asur had been a crushing blow. The scouts still hadn't reported back but that was to be expected, they were slow and would probably need a nights of binge drinking to celebrate the success. It hadn't been without loss though. They had lost 8 warmachines to the what the men were calling, "The Wolves" and elf, or elves, clad in grey that had managed to hew through his crew and dismantle precious machines. His brother, a Master Engineer, had been one of those slaughtered, now this "Grey Wolf" had a spot in the book of grudges, Krongi smiled to himself satisfied with the placement.

A great booming knock resounding across that stone hall, "My Lord Krongi, a messenger from the scouting party you sent has return."

"Excellent, send him forth at once."

The dwarf slowly approached the throne. He was shaking obviously nervous and muttering too himself. His face was drawn, eyes gaunt, he stared wildly and jumped at shadows flickering on the walls. In his hands he held a parcel, wrapped in clothes and slowly dripping. The dwarf knelt, and presented the package.

Krongi eyed it suspiciously it was bulky, heavy, and damp. The odor of death followed the messenger, but Krongi, recieved it and began undoing the binding. A card was stuffed into the twine that held the parcel together, a note read in High Elvish, "Great King Krongi, a gift from Malossar, High Warlord of Caledor."

Krongi open the binding and two hundred beards fluttered to the floor. Krongi tore at his clothes, as did the dwarves in hall, "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" Krongi shouted at the messenger, "ANSWER YOUR KING!" but still the dwarf didn't answer. Krongi tackled the dwarf to the floor who was weeping uncontrollably, he opened his mouth and Krongi leapt off him. He was missing his tongue.
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Re: The Conquests of Mal: Campaign Fluff Added

#27 Post by Larose »

The death of a dragon is always sad :cry: Calehir feels your pain.

..hmm who is this tomb king i wonder... do i know him? lol
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Re: The Conquests of Mal: Campaign Fluff Added

#28 Post by Headshot »

Cal,

I think this is a real beautiful piece of writing! (And I'm not just saying that because there are NAGARATHI in it! :wink: )

I really think that I can see growth in your writing here. A more confident and relaxed voice and style. Bravo!

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Re: The Conquests of Mal: Campaign Fluff Added

#29 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Martouf, gone, such a tragedy. Stupid dawi, we don't need to write down our grudges, we remember everything.
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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