Duriath Helbane, the Black Ark commander and successful conqueror of the High elf colonies on the Isles of Tor Elithis, stood at the end of the dockyard’s longest pier in order to greet the approaching ship that had stemmed off from the armada in the distance consisting of a dozen Black Arks.
As the ship came into port the plank was lowered and its passengers disembarked. At the front of the crowd was Hellebron herself, Witch Queen of all Druchii after the deaths of Malekith, Morathi, Malus Darkblade and so many others, followed closely by the Admiral Superior of her fleets Lokhir Fellheart, the former handmaiden to Morathi turned personal slave of the Witch Queen Drusala and 20 Black Guards of Naggarond. Duriath dropped to one knee as his queen approached.
Duriath: “Hail to you Hellebron, Blood Bride of Khaine and Queen of all Druchii.”
Hellebron: “Rise Helbane, report on the status of your conquest.”
Duriath: “My fleet did as you commanded and have taken control of these Isles. Only the lair of the dragon Symiel remains and is being used as a headquarters for the few remaining pockets of Asur resistance. Our forces took greater casualties than anticipated on account of a surprise attack by grave pirates but we were able to push them back into the sea all the same.”
Hellebron: “And the Prince?”
Duriath: “Slipped our grasp during the heat of battle my Queen.”
Hellebron appeared annoyed at this revelation and confided in Helbane that she had hoped to bathe herself in the blood of Finubar’s firstborn son, Yrellian. Alas, she would have to resort to the blood of the golden company soldiers and civilians who died here instead. Duriath escorted the Witch Queen up to the former prince’s villa at the top of the Western ridge after she commanded a nearby bleaksword to take Drusala and have her washed and scrubbed in advance of tonight’s dinner as well as instructing Lokhir to return to the fleet and gather a squadron of manticore riders to smoke the moon dragon and the remaining high elf dissidents from their cave.
The bleaksword took Drusala to a nearby building, a former high elf home built from marble and porcelain-white chalk now barely held aloft by wooden rods and iron pikes after being shot by the bolt of a ballista during the invasion with the outlines of its dead inhabitants scorched onto its walls after they burnt in their home. The bleaksword put out a large wooden tub and proceeded to fill it with hot water with which to bathe the malnourished maiden of skin and bones. However, as he filled the bath he became unaware of Drusala’s actions which gave her the chance to conceal a nearby fork behind her back. The soldier finished running the bath and motioned for her to get in as he picked up a scratchy brush with which to clean her only to suddenly be stabbed in the left eyebrow by her fork where she had possibly been aiming for his eye. The soldier reacted angrily only to be tripped up into the bath where she then used what little strength she had to make sure he could not lift his head out of the water until finally, he drowned. Once he was dead, the naked Drusala put on his armour and emerged outside, attempting to blend in as best as she could.
However, Drusala did not run to the port for a ship to escape nor did she start a fight with the guards outside Hellebron’s new quarters. Instead, she made her way to Duriath Helbane’s home. He answered his door to the Bleaksword who rushed in and cover his mouth with her hand as she removed her helmet to reveal her identity to him. She then removed her hand from his mouth with the threat that if he called out for any reason whatsoever, she would stab him with the bleaksword’s blade.
Duriath: “Why have you come here girl, you should flee before our queen has you executed.”
Drusala: “I wanted to ask how you could possibly serve Hellebron after what she did to your family.”
Duriath looked to her in an ignorant fashion and she realised he had not be made aware of his family’s fate, if anything Hellebron had sent him here specifically to get him out of the way.
Duriath: “You mean to tell me that my wife is languishing in a fighting pit? And what of my son, he would have travelled here in person to warn me.”
Drusala: “Nurekh, your son did attempt to resist your mother’s capture….so the Queen cut his throat, licked at the blood from his wound and had his corpse thrown from a cliff…I was there when it happened. I’m so sorry.”
Duriath: “Sorry! You’re sorry for me are you? We don’t even know each other Witch! If you were truly sorry you would have killed that God’s whore! Didn’t your old mistress teach you to fight?!”
Drusala: “She kept me as a slave, barely fed enough to love let alone to cast spells or fight. But this is our chance. For Anethra, for Nurekh, for Morathi, we can put an end to this Khainite Monarch once and for all.”
Duriath: “So be it. What do you propose?”
Drusala: “The Queen will be bathing in her enemy’s blood tonight while her admiral flies to the mountains to purge the Asur from their cave in advance of her invasion. If we can get past her guards somehow we could ambush her and kill her while off guard.”
Duriath: “Invasion?”
Drusala: “The Invasion of Nippon! A fleet that size would be ridiculously disproportionate to these islands’ few sources of resistance. This is real Duriath, she will never stop. We followed Malekith because he was the true king of Ulthuan but Hellebron has no right to the throne and she will never stop killing her enemies in the name of her god, a man who will never show her the affection she desires in return. Hellebron must die, and she will perish tonight by our hands!”
Duriath: “Alright, I agree with you… when the pirates attacked the vampires in their ranks used ropes to scale the ridges so they wouldn’t fall behind their zombie hordes. If we could gain access to those resources, we could scale the mountainside and climb in through the window to ambush Hellebron from an angle the Black Guards would never suspect.”
And so, after Drusala was given free access to Duriath’s fruit bowl, the two set off to where the rope was stored with Drusala still disguised in Bleaksword armour and Duriath Helbane in his Black Ark commander’s armour. As they walked there trying not to arouse suspicion, they saw a unit of manticores ridden by corsairs flying overhead, it seemed Lokhir Felheart had decided to join the raid. The two went into the storage area and quietly killed the Dreadspear guards, from whence Duriath decided to take one of their shields as the two headed off to the ridge to scale the mountain and commit treason….
….

• Angry React: The two scaled the mountainside and fortunately, found there were no guards there to stop them on this side. As such, they were able to break into the villa through a window where they found Hellebron taking her blood bath. Hellebron emerged from the bath, brandishing both swords which were kept next to it but was completely naked otherwise and charged towards them in a bloodhaze.

However, Drusala countered her charge by casting a bladewind spell whose knives and swords cut at the naked Queen of the Druchii’s body without mercy which left her exposed to Duriath’s attacks. As he stood over Hellebron who was seathing on the ground in pain, he spoke the words “For my son.” and plunged his sword into Hellebron’s body.
…

• Sad React: Duriath and Drusala scaled the mountainside as best as they could but had forgotten to factor in the weather beforehand. The winds howled and grew stronger and stronger until the weakened haindmaiden turned slave lost her grip and fell from the cliff, screaming in terror as she fell to her death.

Duriath hoped the guards at top could not hear her at this distance and so continued to climb up the mountain as he held on to the rope for dear life, even dropping the shield he had stolen in the process. Finally, he was about to reach the top of the mountain when he found himself face to face with 3 of Hellebron’s Black Guards who simply looked at him for a second before cutting his rope without a single word being uttered. Duriath fell to his death just as Drusala had.
….

• Love React: Duriath and Drusala scaled the cliff-face, barely holding onto the ropes as their hands tensed up from the cold, sea winds. Finally, they reached the top and entered through a window to the Witch Queen’s quarters.
  

However, upon entering the room they discovered that not only had Hellebron completed her blood bath and dressed herself in her Khainite garb already, but there were guards lining the walls. Duriath charged forward to attack the Queen only to be knocked to the floor by the guards’ halberds.
Meanwhile, Drusala ducked beneath a guard’s swipe and proceeded to channel her Bladewind spell. However, Hellebron only smirked as the amulet she wore beneath her collarbone lit up, resulting in the energy coursing around Drusala spell-weaving hand to suddenly ignite into flames as black as a cave of onyx. Drusala yelled in sheer agony as the fire spread up her arm and travelled across her body. As Drusala screamed at the top of her lungs, Hellebron turned her attention to the pinned Corsair.
Hellebron: “How amusing. We were going to have you executed tonight during dinner and instead, you come to me.”
“Wh…why? Drusala? Nurekh?” Duriath spoke out of breath.
Hellebron: “Them? They were nothing. They held no role in our God’s plan. Only the strong will survive the reckoning of Khaine. As for you, you lied to me Helbane. You claimed the Asur prince escaped during your invasion of this island yet your own crew tell a different tale. They claim you let him escape!”
Duriath: “N-no”
Hellebron: “Yes, yes. You betrayed the Druchii Helbane and robbed me of my slaughter. For that, your tombstone would speak only of your treason but alas, for your sins you do not deserve a grave. *Hellebron addressed the guards* “Fling him from the ridge!”
And so, Duriath was thrown by the Black Guards and plummeted to his death. Later, the guards arrived at the beach with Drusala’s charred body in hand. They then picked up what gory mess was left of Duriath and chucked both the traitors’ remains out to sea to be consumed beneath the waves.
….

• Laugh React: The two traitors succesfully scaled the mountainside and made their way into the Queen’s quarters where she had just finished her blood bath and was redressing herself in her ornamental attire. As she heard them enter the room, Hellebron called her guards who came bursting into the room.

Drusala attempted to hold them back, blasting one of them with a doombolt but the others approached and immobilised her before she could cast a second time. Duriath stood with his sword and shield, wearily backing towards the window as 4 guards neared him with their halberds as he wondered whether his sword could even pierce their armour if he dared fight back.
Suddenly, the encounter was interrupted as a ballista bolt shot through the wall of the villa which planted itself in the ceiling. A ship loyal to Helbane has positioned itself of the coast and commenced fire on the villa. As this happened, Drusala desperately yelled for Duriath to save himself and his wife so he decided to flee, and ailing the ridge by the window through which they had entered. The guards attempted to catch him and mobilise the fleet to intercept his fleet but when all was said and done, that all happened far too late to escape Duriath from escaping, leaving his black ark the Temple of Spite and all its crew to the Queen’s fury.
Hellebron stood at the cliff edge, looking out towards the routing ship when Drusala, firmly held in the guards’ grip, spoke “It’s too late Crone. The Helbanes will live on.”
Hellebron: “Perhaps, but now the question is what to do with you? Oh, I enjoyed toying with you as a pet but you have become a nuisance and our Admiral Superior knows everything there is to know about the treatment of nuisances. I suppose you haven’t heard of what Lokhir did during his mutinies but fear not, I shall see to it that you are given the full tour of the Blessed Dread’s facilities and when next we meet, I shall be consuming your eyes as part of my dinner. Good day, witch. Take her away!
….

• Wow React: The two traitors succesfully scaled the mountainside and made their way into the Queen’s quarters where she had just finished her blood bath and was redressing herself in her ornamental attire. As she heard them enter the room, Hellebron turned and attacked her would-be assassins. She began by attacking Duriath who found that all his swipes were immediately countered by her off-hand blade as if it were cursed with a mind of its own that could block any move he attempted while she knocked his shield from his hands with ease. Finally, Hellebron grew bored of playing with him and thrust her Deathsword into his left leg. Duriath fell to the ground in pain as he became immobilised from the red swipe of her blade which had translated into dark energies seeping into his skin.

Hellebron turned to Drusala who attempted to cast a curse on her only to have it instantly warded off by her Amulet of Dark Fire. Hellebron then leapt towards the witch to finish her off once and for all….only the blade did not pierce Drusala’s skin. Instead, Drusala began to laugh, first cheerily before descending into a cacophonous cackle as it was revealed that a small portal was being cast over her stomach from whence the tip of the Deathsword was now protruding from a wall on the other side of the room. Hellebron was about to stab the witch when she suddenly noticed the blade the witch was carrying for it was not the blade of a bleaksword, it was the Darksword!
A shroud of fear befell Hellebron’s face for a second before she was suddenly blasted across the room by Drusala’s spellweaving hand. Drusala then stood up and began to transform. Here face morphed into the all too familiar face of Morathi as the Bleaksword armour she wore dissolved. The purple cloth below the armour reformed itself into the luxurious silk of a Hag Sorceress’ skirt while the armour from the breastplate split apart and reformed into Morathi’s literal breastplates while the remaining steel travelled up her body and formed the distinctive horns of her headdress. Hellebron instinctively ran towards a window to escape, yelling “Guards!” as she smashed through the glass with her blades outstretched.
As Hellebron fled the scene of the battle, the Black Guards of Naggarond burst in to kill the formerly deceased Hag of Ghrond but were all killed in their advance as Morathi’s magic turned many of them into a stone or simply froze them in place at range while those which did reach her in melee were sliced open by her magical blade like butter, as if they weren’t wearing any armour at all. When all we’re dead, Duriath cried out “How can you be alive? Von Carstein killed you.”
Morathi: “Drusala, the poor fool, sacrifices herself for me. Little did Vlad know when he thought he was killing me that my magic had made each of us the mirror image of the other.”
Duriath: “So Drusala is dead? Did she die willingly?”
Morathi: “Hahahaha, of course not. She died screaming my name in horror as Vlad came to kill her, he must have thought I had gone insane in my dying moments given how I wouldn’t stop screeching my own name.” *Morathi laughed in glee once more.*
“But why would you care? You never even met her. Aaah Duriath, I have missed the feeling of air on my breasts!”
” But I can tell you one thing for certain; when my son returns, which my dreams confirm he will, we shall be there waiting for him.” Morathi said as she picked up one of the guards’ poleaxe/halberd and proceeded to alter it with her magic, “Yes, this should make a nice Heartrender.”