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Whats Your Fluff?

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Whats Your Fluff?

Post by Rogue_Leader on Mon Sep 21, 2009 8:52 pm

I am making this thread due to my interest in the Fluff created by others to describe their army and it's purpose. I also feel it is valuable to get the input of others about how each persons fluff fits to the continuity of the races cannon fluff. Please put submissions within a spoiler box so it my be shrunk after viewing for easier navigation and sorting

So here I submit my work for your input, and hopefully for your enjoyment:
Spoiler:

Forsaken in the fall

During the fall of the Eldar Empire, war spread widely with Eldar seers and warriors fighting to drive back both the powers of chaos and the warriors of the Imperium. The Eldar fled across the Galaxy, with the warriors of many worlds working together to hold the line against the coming darkness. When finally the last of the Eldar had fled, and the time had come for the last garrisons of warriors on the final solar system to make their own escape, they found themselves abandoned, left to die at the hands of their enemies. For 3 months the Forsaken held the line and for a time it even seemed they may have even been able to indefinitely, until their confidence led them several of their warriors to fall to chaos’s influence. With the combined might of renewed assaults, and integral struggles, the line was broken, and the Forsaken driven back to their last stronghold, the last Great Webway Gate, the gate through which they had meant to depart those long months before. Only at the last moments, when all hope had faded, did the gate come to life. Seizing their chance, the Forsaken fled, trading certain doom for whatever lay beyond the gate. Emerging from the Webway the warriors of the Forsaken were greeted not by the returning Eldar Fleet as they had hoped, but by an Eldar Grand Cruiser which had been lost in the early days of the fall and had drifted, unhindered through space until it drifted into range of the Forsaken’s Gateway. Seizing the ship, the Forsaken fled, not to the Fleet, but away from everything, beyond the edges of the known galaxy. For over a Millennia, the Forsaken traveled in secret through-out the galaxy, waging war on both the forces of Chaos and the Eldar who left them to die. As the years passed, war took its toll on their forces and it became necessary for the Forsaken to add to their ranks. So it was that the Forsaken began seeking out their Eldar brethren who were besieged in conflict, those whose hope had faded..... Those who had been left to die.... Those who had been Forsaken. With each world they visited, they rallied more and more of their forgotten brethren, brought then close and made them safe. Donning the colours of their new brothers in arms, each of the newly adopted Forsaken adorned their helm with a marking, a marking which would remind all who saw then of who they had once been, where they were from, and who had abandoned them to death. Today, though the original Forsaken are long since dead, their legacy remains, with numbers ranging in the thousands, aboard a veritable fleet of ships, with warriors from each craftworld and beyond, waiting, planning, preparing, for that one day. That one day when they can emerge from the void and exact retribution on those who abandoned them. Until that triumphant day comes, they wander the stars, dealing death to any who would stand before them.
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Re: Whats Your Fluff?

Post by ChangerOfWays on Wed Oct 07, 2009 12:53 pm

"They call us fallen. They accused us of heresy, when they were the ones who fell. They look at us and know we know the truth. That is why they hate us." -Rolland De'Wolf, Librarian.
I'm planning on starting a Dark Angels army, but not just any Dark Angels army. I'm gonna start a Fallen Angel. They follow along the same lines of the Soul Drinkers, where they don't believe in chaos, but were cast out from the Imperium.
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Re: Whats Your Fluff?

Post by Spiritcurse on Tue Jan 05, 2010 8:04 pm

It's a bit long, so I'll post it the same way Rouge_Leader did. It details a hero more than an army really, but I still like it. And I say a bit long, it's very long.


Spoiler:
Tirakev Xabier is a youthful dark eldar, born in 899.M41, who attained the rank of hierarch at the young age of 57. He was then able to promote himself to Archon of the Kabal of the Soul Vortex by the time he was 68. He was attacked many times by rival kabals, who saw him as weak, yet managed to survive, his power greatly reduced. He fought against his enemies with a vengeance, dealing each one attacks that would have guaranteed him promotion at any wych cult throughout Commoragh.

It is thought that he attained his fighting skill on or around his 13th birthday, due to a revenge attack from another kabal. His parents, the names of which he refuses to divulge, as well as the details of what happened, were both killed, but 2 mandrakes were found in his house with the skulls removed, through the neck, leaving the skin intact, and a further one found without even the skin of his head.

After this attack, he fought ever stronger, wearing the skin of his most recent kill as a mask, and was risen to the rank of syrabite by the time he was 21, due to assisting in the capture of the "Emperor's faithful", a battleship, and put in command of a small squad of warriors from his Kabal, the Soul Vortex. His promotion to dracon followed shortly afterwards, by a quick dark lance "miss" during combat.

He gathered a few of his most loyal warriors, and stole a Corsair, using it's warp and mimic engines to hitch onto a convoy heading to a fledgeling imperial world. He detached from the convoy shortly before planetfall, and conducted small raids on towns and villages, careful never to become strong enough for the imperials to send more than a small force against him.

While on one of his raids, he captured a psyker that even he could tell was powerful, and, in a flash of inspiration, decided to spare him, and keep him in his retinue as a psychic lightning rod, and to predict events for him. Many raids later, this captured psyker told Tirakev about a recurring dream he had been having, about a small village, with a large church, heaped with the dead, and in the middle, a powerful figure. He said it was "the awakening of power, a source of great strength", and that Tirakev should attack. After whipping his slave for not telling him sooner, he decided to oblige the psyker, but sent his warriors away, leaving only his finest incubi, and the psyker with him.

Tirakev attacked, a rampaging tornado of death, devastating the hastily constructed defenses of the inhabitants. Blood twirled in streams where he passed, bones, weapons and skulls alike shattering beneath his fury. He knew there was something special about this village, his still-young 84 year old frame grew taller and more powerful as he approached the church. As he stood outside the church, with a human child cowering in his 7-foot tall shadow, he paused for a moment, thinking about how this could be his manifest destiny, to seize the source of this power and use it for revenge. He slowly caressed the childs face with his blades, shuddering in ecstasy as he died from the cocktail of poisons he lavished upon his blades each morning.

When he entered the church, Tirakev immediately felt his momentuous power draining from him. Through the haze of agony, he used the last vestiges of his energy to throw his poisoned gauntlet at the psyker. The psyker just laughed, the laugh growing more high pitched and chilling, even as the lethal blade cut through his chest. As he writhed, Tirakev saw a fine sparkling dust flow out of the psyker towards the altar of the church, where it burst into mulit-coloured flame, and formed a serpentine body, with great wings. A Lord of Change. The psyker screamed and died, and with that, the firey body became corpereal, and spoke to Tirakev, telling him to join or die. Tirakev, feeling the impossible pressure on his mind, the visions of the warp stirring in his head, futures that could be, futures that would be if he did not accept this avatars offer, dutifully agreed, suddenly feeling fatigued and colapsing on the warp-tainted floor of the church.

After this, Tirakev became possessed with unimaginable power and strength after being dragged to his ship by his faithful retuine, and a strangely short recovery, he found himself far surpassing his old capabilites, the gods immense power had meshed with his will. He found himself returning days later to the avatar, who seeing his new form and great power offered to join the retuine, deeming him worthy of his master's favour. However, having the daemon with him was not enough for the crazed power of Tirakev. He wrestled the Lord of Change into the soul of his accompanying haemonculi, all to the noise of laughter from some unseen source. He led raids, primarily against other chaos targets, but his daemonic power meant no target was safe once he gazed at it with his mutable, flickering, colourful eyes, and set a course from his tzeentchi Corsair.

This continued for 16 blood and death-filled years, with the maddening laughter of his new god ringing in his mind, until Tirakev was contacted one night by the same voice he still has nightmares about, that voice that takes him back to that blood drenched morning, where his soul was stolen. Was the laughing at, or with him, he wondered idly before listening to his new orders. He was told to seek out Inquisitor Arreal, and to fight with him against the forces of the other chaos gods. Tirakev immediately woke his crew, and set a course to Mordian, where Arreal was last seen.

Arreal was a righteous inquisitor Lord, but his senses had long been corrupted by chaos, and he fell easily to Tirakev's promises of glory, and the extermination of the daemonic. Tirakev took him, and his small army of followers to his Corsair, the "Venaliter", where Arreals tech-adepts attached the orbital strike to the underside, promising "Swift retribution on our enemies." Tirakev heard the mocking laughter of his god ringing throughout his head even then, and knew this was all part of the plan of the Changer of the Ways.

Now, Tirakev fights against their enemies with Arreal, while remaining aware that should Arreal suspect that he worships Tzeentch, he must be killed immediately. Only time will tell what part of the Great Schemers plan he is unwittingly fulfilling.

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Re: Whats Your Fluff?

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