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[Domine Nox]

Another Warhammer Fantasy story of mine I found again.

Tyrandis sat upon a great rock jutting precariously from the rocky mountain that was one of many in the land of Caledor. He surveyed the land before him, white shafted spear held tightly in his grasp. The wind danced along the lush valleys and craggy peaks that marked Caledor’s splendor and mystery. Once, the sky would have been a flutter with great dragons, and the mighty princes that had become one with the beasts. Now the fires had run cold, the forces of magic had waned, and the dragons had fallen into slumber. He had been out here for months, watching and waiting. The length and breadth of Ulthuan had he traveled in his search of answers, answers to the matter of Chaos and evil in this world.

His grip twisted on the well worn spear haft, smooth as marble. There just didn’t seem to be enough information. He had spoken with loremasters in Hoeth, sages in Caledor, the chroniclers of the Phoenix Throne, the Everqueen, and none had provided an answer to the well of evil that was in the world. All simply spoke of standing strong, that the Elven will and resolve would see their dying race through.

Resolve. When he dwelled on that term it darkened his thoughts. If our resolve is the key, then the weaker races are actually fuelling their own destruction and the engulfing of the world. The greedy Dwarves, the weak Humans, the wild Areii all were promoting Chaos and destruction with their every action.

“So you have found the secret.”

Tyrandis whipped around, spear held level. No other creature was in sight, but he was sure that voice had come from over his shoulder.

“You know what drives the darkness, so to deny the darkness you must take the fuel away.” Again came the whisper, and he spun again to see only thin air.

“Who are you, and what trickery is this?” He demanded of the world.

“I am the answer to your need. I am the solution to your problems.”

“And you are a coward who will not show himself.”

“I am more than physical form. I sought you out for in you I see greatness, a power that could cleanse the world of wrong. I could aid you, provide you with the means to reshape the very world free from war and suffering.”

“How?” He lowered his spear and looked still to find the source of the voice, and could almost hear a smile as he asked his question.

“Join me. No weaker race would dare stand before you with my aid. I would hold you above all, as Aenarion was.”

“Asuryan?” Tyrandis gasped.

“An agent of the fire.” Something about the voice was setting him on edge, though he wanted to give in. It was as though his will was draining away and a sense of familiarity abounded. “You know it is the only way. Purge the weak. Carve out a destiny where only the Elves will be left in glorious victory, to stand strong and true alone.”

He could almost see the speaker, it was as if the air before him shimmered and warped. A shape was clearly coalescing before him as time went on. His mind was filled with images of himself, standing gloriously over slain Dark Elves, Orcs, Goblins, Chaos Warriors, Humans, Dwarves, and Skaven. The standard of his house blew in the wind over a field of destruction and blood.

“You could carve out an unmatched kingdom, one united under you. And live then in peace and prosperity. Is that not what you want?” It was everything he wanted. He wanted to say yes, to accept, but something held him back. As he watched the vision slowly shifted, Elves lay dead at his feet as well; High Elves.

“No!” Tyrandis tried to shake the visions from his mind.

“Oh it is too late, your soul is open to me, and you cannot resist. Give in to the hate. Let it consume you. Let me make you a god among mere mortals. Together we can carve a bloody swathe through the world and forge the world anew.”

“No!” He could feel invisible tentacles reaching out to him, caressing him. Slashing out with his spear at the swirling air was greeted with only laughter. It was growing harder to breathe as the swarming along his skin increased. “I am a warrior of the light, a blessed son of the Asur, and I deny you denizen of the void. I will not relent.”

“Fool. I have broken far stronger beings than you. Your lineage is nothing.”

In desperation he took the blade to himself. “Asuryan aid me.” With those words on his lips he drove the spear into his chest.

Tyrandis sat bolt upright in a cold sweat. He was still upon the rock, with the vastness of Caledor arrayed before him. Was it a dream? Lying next to him was his spear; or rather what once was his spear. The metal was twisted and warped. The pure white shaft was now blackened and corroded wood, except the smooth hand hold, which was still a glimmering white. Upon it was a rune, the mark of Asuryan, and it smoldered as though freshly burned upon it.

“I will not give into the darkness. There must be better answers.”

[Gerhart]

Nice job, I have to read up on Warhammer lore. I have no idea what your talking about here for the most part.