This is the background of Vriishnak, as it stands now. It's not particularly detailed, but how does it seem as is?
Vriishnak the Twisted
Vriishnak was born on the island realm of Ulthuan, shortly after the sundering of Naggarythe following Malekith’s attempted coup. His upbringing was very different from that of most elves, filled with the subversive teachings of his father, who remained embittered about the sinking of his homeland by the loyalist elves. However, the old elf was not a supporter of Malekith and thus had no place in the realms of the dark elves, either. From birth, Vriishnak was inundated with stories of the treachery of his kin, and taught not to trust any elf outside of his family. He was kept apart from other children his age, and no mention of the history of his race, either High or Dark, was made. So passed his life until the age of 60.
Eventually, Vriishnak began to interact with other young elves, ignoring his father’s pleas and commands. The lessons he had received remained with him, though, and he avoided any true friendships in order to focus on his martial training. His peers tended to avoid him as well, noting his lack of interest in the arts that form the basis of elven society. He discovered and developed quite a gift with the longbow and in a style of combat combining the use of twin, slightly curved longswords and martial arts. Noticing his abilities and work ethic, Vriishnak’s teachers began the process of shaping him into a commander, including many long, philosophical conversations in which they discovered his deep-held self-loathing and hatred for all elves. They began teaching him other views, allowing him to discover for himself the wondrous creations and art of his kin. Vriishnak began to question his father’s teachings, and began to walk the path to happiness.
Vriishnak’s contentment lasted for many long years, and he formed an especially close bond with one of his teachers, Elsuran of Hoeth. Over the years, the two elves fought off small raids of dark elves in the elven army, and found that they shared many ideas in common. He began to learn some of the fighting styles of the Swordmasters, quickly reaching his friend’s level of ability.
Then came the day that would change Vriishnak’s life. Early one morning, as the sun was rising over a newly forming summer day, he awoke to muffled groans and screams. Rising quickly, drawing his swords as he went, Vriishnak left his small room in the militia bunkers and followed the noise to a small room, unused in the years that Vriishnak had been training.
As he approached, he saw Elsuran torturing a fellow elf, peeling his skin slowly away with a small heated knife. A look of exultation covered his face, and he burst into maniacal laughter at the sight of his friend.
"Come, join the fun, Vriishnak." He whispered as he regained control of himself. "The Dark Prince favours you already. You weren’t supposed to come into the fold for years yet, but now’s as good a time as any!"
Vriishnak staggered back at the site of the abomination, the foul runes carved throughout the room, and even tattooed and branded on his fellow elf’s skin. Raising his swords in front of him, he forced words through teeth clenched with rage.
"I will never betray my people as the foul Druchii did. I will return your soul to Asuryan, even if I cannot sway your mind."
Vriishnak’s years of adventuring began that day, with the slaying of his corrupted friend. Surveying the room after a long fight, the elf swore an oath to hunt the followers of chaos for the rest of his days, in the hopes of preventing the deaths of more innocents. His quest lasted for many long years, and led him through the human lands, where he watched generations of humans live and die, largely unaware of the corruption spreading through their lands.
He made few friends in this time, occasionally joining small groups of warriors and moving on when the job was done.
However, Vriishnak noticed that his efforts were largely meaningless, as the forces of darkness continued to gather faster than he could put an end to them. Returning to his homeland in despair, he was shocked at the depth of corruption that threatened Ulthuan. Traveling across the lands, he found many warbands dedicated to the ruinous powers, and only a handful of warriors willing to stand against them. Gathering them together, inspiring confidence with the skills of leadership he had gained long years before, he prepared to begin a war to save his country.
Many skirmishes followed, with great losses to the chaos forces caused by the organization and skill shown by Vriishnak and his warriors. They struck quickly, removing the leaders of isolated warbands before fading back to leave the warriors in disarray.
Eventually, however, the bands began to unite, forming up for a full-scale assault with only Vriishnak’s smaller army to prevent it. Supported by a single mage, who had been persuaded to join after seeing his bodyguards torn apart by a chaos warlord, Vriishnak began to prepare his defenses, having the mage enchant the weapons of the best fighters.
Finally, the day of battle arrived, and Vriishnak led his best warriors in an assault on the core of the chaos force. Fighting through to the leader, Vriishnak found himself face-to-face with a Keeper of Secrets. Expecting the support of his hand-chosen warriors, he attacked, only to stare in horror as they ran in fear. Unsupported against a Greater Daemon, it was only a matter of time before he was defeated.
Expecting to be killed, Vriishnak was surprised to see the Daemon back away after knocking him prone. Attempting to rise to his feet, he barely had time to register a sense of vertigo before the swirling colours of the realms of chaos rendered him unconscious.
Years passed, and the elves who had failed Vriishnak spread the tale of his fall, alerting the complacent nobles of the elven lands to the threat posed to them. Armies gathered to the banners of the elven race, and the immediate threat was crushed, cultists and daemons alike destroyed utterly by powerful magics, while small remnants fled from the slaughter to regroup.
Perceiving the threat to be vanquished, most of the elves turned back to their lives of tranquility, watching the lands of the Druchii for the next attack as before. Small bands of elves continued the hunt that Vriishnak had begun, all led by those who had followed him in the past, and slowly reduced the numbers of active cultists threatening their people, and dedicating every victory, however small, to his memory.
Meanwhile, Vriishnak suffered at the hands of powerful Daemons, viewing scenes from his life from outside points of view, the activities subtly and slowly distorted from how he had experienced them. His beliefs and perceptions were slowly altered, presenting his former friends as villains, plotting against him for the whole of their acquaintanceship, his enemies as persecuted innocents merely trying to survive. Finally, he denounced his past life and vowed to serve Slaanesh with all his being.
Returned to the mortal realm to prove his devotion, Vriishnak found himself alone in the icy wastes of Naggaroth, with only his thin clothing and twin blades, stripped even of the armour he had been wearing. He wandered alone for days, hunting for the little food he was able to find, before finding a set of tracks seemingly made by a caravan of some sort.
Following the trail with ease, he arrived at the camp of a Dark Elf slaver, traveling between towns selling his ‘wares’. As he tried to get closer, a guard noticed him and alerted the camp, and the slaver decided to increase his stock and ordered the guards to take him.
The fight was swift and bloody, with all of the guards slain, and the slaver moved in with the slaves. Deciding that it was better to stay with the slave train and gather some money, Vriishnak decided to examine the slaves, both to sate his sadistic urges and to see if there were any worthy of serving him.
Most of the slaves were human, and the weakest succumbed quickly to the glorious punishments bestowed upon them. Of the remainder, none proved worthy of conversion to the dark powers, and would be sold in the city. However, there was one elf among the train, the lone survivor of a force that had tried to defend against the most recent raid, and Vriishnak recognized him; this was one of the elves who had betrayed him on the day that he had been captured by the Keeper of Secrets. Drawing a sword, he moved closer, allowing the elf to recognize him. He saw the astonishment on his face, but as the elf opened his mouth to speak, gratitude and happiness evident in his eyes, Vriishnak’s sword slid smoothly into his chest, sliding between ribs and piercing his heart.
Pulling the blade free, Vriishnak looked down at it, impressed by the ease of that kill. He named the blade then, calling it Senthoi, the blade that would avenge the betrayals he had suffered. He drew its twin, and knew that it hungered as well, needing a name to focus its purpose, nearly sentient with the chaos powers flowing through it. A few seconds of thought led him to the other aspect of the betrayal he had experienced, the hatred he felt to those who had let him be taken. The second blade was named Thalui, and the weapons quickly became a physical incarnation of his purpose.
Vriishnak took the wagons of slaves to the nearest city, selling the slaves as well as the horses and wagons for money to hire a small group of mercenaries, and the services of an assassin. For a time, they worked for established nobles, performing attacks on weak houses or assassinations of rivals to make money, but eventually Vriishnak led a coup of his own, cutting down an entire noble family, taking the position of the Highborn leader for his own.
Using the house’s treasury, he had a suit of armour crafted for himself, and combined the warriors of his estate with his mercenary band, hiring on more soldiers to fill gaps in his forces. Disdaining the typical hit-and-run tactics employed by Druchii armies, he trained them to fight together, unified in their fear of the tortures he inflicted on those who betrayed him.
Finally, he gathered the best of his troops and, leaving the rest to guard what was left of his money, sailed to Ulthuan on a small fleet of Black Arks, using stealth to slip past the High Elven navy where brute force would have failed. Landing on his former home, he set out to hunt down the elves who had professed loyalty to his cause so long ago.
His task was made easier than he had anticipated, as the cults of Chaos flocked to his banner, and the groups dedicated to hunting them followed, attempting to use Vriishnak’s own skirmishing tactics against him, only to be met with overwhelming force where they thought the line weakest.
Short years later, his quest was completed, and the whole of Vriishnak’s warband swore fealty to Slaanesh, awed by the glorious battles that Vriishnak had won. He was glorified in their eyes, an infallible leader who could do no wrong. Unable to remain satisfied with the intrigues in the Dark Elf courts, he led his chosen into the Chaos Wastes, eager to prove to his god that he was worthy.
For years they wandered, sometimes met by other bands with aspiring leaders, often much larger than his band, but always they emerged victorious. The best among them began to change, affected by the mutating air of chaos, while those too weak faltered and were abandoned. Horses, bred for speed for generations, became much faster, slowly changing to resemble lizards and snakes, while their riders became stronger, stripping the corpses of their foes for armour and weapons which gradually fused to their skin.
Unnatural light glowed in the eyes of the elves, and their features grew distorted, limbs stretching to grotesque lengths until they towered above humans, corded muscles matching the strength of those they found here, and the armour making up for the lesser durability of elven frames. A few completed their ascension, gaining for themselves the powers of lesser daemons as well as greater physical endurance as well as reinforcing the power of Vriishnak’s glorious vision for any who might have begun to doubt.
At the same time, the force gained followers, bestial beings still maintaining some of their elven appearance while being almost completely altered from those who had been left behind. They fed on the corpses of those slain, both allies and enemies, and seemingly followed their own hierarchy, led by those with the power to influence the winds of magic. Gradually, they began to worship Vriishnak as a god in his own right, offering sacrifices from their own ranks, and of the beasts they managed to bring down on their own.
Vriishnak changed as well, though to a much lesser extent. He grew slightly taller, and his skin grew paler. The constant combat honed his skills, making him more than the equal of those he met, even with his lesser strength, and his reflexes became supernaturally fast. He abandoned his armour, preferring to wear simple black leather, which contrasted eerily with his pale flesh and wings. His twins swords were ever at hand when he needed them, though never present otherwise.
As he led his force to the depths of the realm of chaos, he heard the voice of Slaanesh echoing through his head, forever goading him onward to the next encounter. Following the voice, he arrived at a ruined shrine, crumbled marble edifices proclaiming eternal service to Slaanesh. Perceiving this to be his destination, Vriishnak led his chosen to the main altar, miraculously intact even after years of abandonment, and led them in a week long orgy of self-inflicted pain, glorying in the sensations even as his body suffered.
Finally, as his warriors were nearing the limits of their endurance, he felt the eye of his god directly upon him for the first time. He felt the crackling sound of a rift opening, and a Keeper of Secrets established itself in the air next to him, hissing its pleasure at renewed existence.
Hissing his displeasure, Vriishnak called his weapons to hand and assumed a fighting stance; this was the same Daemon who had defeated him so long ago, seemingly ready to stand as his final test. Raising his swords in front of himself, he threw himself forward, twisting and writhing in a sinuous dance, only slightly ahead of the Keeper’s flashing claws. His own blades repeatedly bit deep into the flesh of the creature, tearing holes out of which leaked the pure essence of chaos, washing over him and bringing change, even as it weakened his opponent.
Feathered wings sprouted from Vriishnak’s back, shifting rapidly through the colours of the rainbow before settling on a pure white, startling in this corrupt wasteland. His body grew, stretching until his head topped ten feet, though his proportions remained unchanged, unlike his warriors. Horns sprouted from his forehead, and his eyes glowed pink, proclaiming to all the favour of his god.
Striking forward with both blades, he thrust them deep into the chest of the Keeper of Secrets in front of him, draining the last of its essence as it crumpled to the ground, its life stolen to fuel the drive of this new Prince among Daemons, the new favoured warrior of the Dark Prince. Thus are the ways of the fickle gods of chaos, and one day Vriishnak could suffer the same fate.
For now, he has ventured back toward the edge of the Chaos Wastes, leading his own group as well as those who have joined him rather than die by his blade. His army is ever growing, readying itself for the invasion that is to come, and Vriishnak looks to bring the wrath of his god to those who would destroy him.
I like it a lot. However, here's a suggestion - I'm not sure how good it is, but please give it a thought.
Where you write about them changing, that seems to give the impression that some (those who ascend to daemonhood) are equal to or better than Vriishnak himself, and that the rest become this bizzare arrangement of Chaos Spawn. How's this framework instead:
They enter the Chaos Wastes, fighting many warbands and making their way further north.
Their steeds become corrupted, basically becoming Steeds of Slaanesh.
Many fall by the wayside or are twisted beyond recognition by the warping powers of Chaos. They still follow, feeding off the scraps of the warband, and worship Vriishnak with an almost fanatical devotion as he allows them to follow (these are your beastmen).
Meanwhile, those loyal warriors who resist the mutating winds and Vriishnak himself become further obsessed with their purpose, a strange zeal driving them onwards. They cease to talk freely to one another as mortals will, becoming completely bent to one object in life.
Finally, Vriishnak's warband finds a shrine to Slaanesh, oddly placed amidst miles of barren, chaos-twisted tundra. It is guarded by the Keeper of Secrets which he faced before. He is told that he cannot past unless he can defeat that which previously defeated him.
There is an epic struggle, in which Vriishnak's experience and will prevent him succumbing to the KoS's tricks. However, he feels uneasy, and that perhaps the KoS is trying to lose, while still putting up a show. Eventually, he slays it, and it disintegrates with a sniggering hiss. He advances to the shrine.
Placing a hand upon the rune of Slaanesh, a sudden change wracks his body. Here he is converted into a Daemon Prince and his remaining followers into immortal Daemon warriors to follow him, in reward for their struggles.
They make their way south again...
Well, I think this is the third time I've read this, anticipating more, but always disapointed. I guess I will have to give feedback to reinspire you :D
Good story, well written, and good ideas. The idea of an elf following Chaos is odd, however, you managed it very, very well. It wasn't of his will, which is awesome :) And I like the fact that he was an antichaos crusader :) Good point about the returning to his ppl, and not being able to stand the politics. When you are a nomad, you have no one to gossip with, and don't care whose household is better:)
This seems to be a very good skeleton, but not a complete story, as you have ideas that are great, but not fully developped.... I wish to know more about the detail of the situations, not just a broad understanding of what happened to him. If you want more specifics, I will gladly give, but I have to work on not being so longwinded:)
