Path Of The Damned @tearofisha - Tumblr Blog

Deeds of the Players.

Below are the muses of the blog with their adventures and achievements listed in no particular order. Enjoy and see my Asks or DM's if you wish to contribute to any below.

wh40kartwork

corsair-princess-nenime

Out of Time

@tearofisha

Nenime turned away from the warp portal, its light casting bright patterns over the shell of her jump pack.

“So,” she told Aelinor. “This is it.”

tearofisha

Aelinor gazed past Nenime into the rolling kaleidoscope of colour with the same cold dread of one looking at their executioners axe, paling in its glow.

She swallowed.

"I suppose it is"

This was insane. From top to bottom, there was not a thing about this plan that calmed her nerves. That was, apart from the one person in the universe who gave her courage.

"Nenime... you are sure this is the only way?" Her fingers danced along the Ghosthelm in her hands anxiously, the bulky Warp Jump Generator on her back making her feel ungainly and clumsy.

"I support you, truly. I'm with you. I just..." Again, she looked past the Corsair Princess, at the boiling hell that waited to claim her soul should even a fraction of Nenimes plan, or her abilities failed them. Somehow, despite everything, she let out a nervous chuckle.

"This is a lot."

corsair-princess-nenime

Nenime smiled ruefully, "We must have courage now, just as before."

Her eyes met Aelinor's. Could she really ask her to leap into hell, for her sake? There was no other way... If the Sorrowsister was not stopped in the past, then-

She reached out to cradle Aelinor's hands in her own, "I cannot do this without you."

tearofisha

Aelinor stiffened somewhat at the touch, surprised at the casual degree of intimacy the gesture held. Courage. Yes, courage. She breathed deep and, with a moments hesitation, met Nenimes gaze. If she was truly about to die foolishly, she would at least die an honest fool.

"Nenime." She began, just now noticing how unbelievably dry her mouth had become. Nearby, the portal growled like a predator. "In my time with you, I..."

No, that wasn't it.

"When we first met, and I'm sure you noticed because according to people I know, this was plainly obvious to everyone but me..."

She hesitated now, standing upon the precipice and unable to make the jump. She was making a fool of herself, she knew.

The former Seer sighed, embarrassed, finally gripping Nenimes hands in her own and expelling her words in a hurry that attempted to tell truth with their expediency.

"I have always admired you, and for years, I thought I wanted to be like you. Free, bold, and adventurous, but now I realise with my time away from the Path that I do not wish to be like you, I wish to be with you. With everything it entails." At the final moment, she averted her eyes, embarrassed. Then, she straightened as though a literal weight had been removed from her shoulders.

"But enough of that, I am sorry. We have the Sorrowsister to thwart and more important things to focus on. Should we return, perhaps we can then discuss what I just blurted out?" Despite herself, she smiled, the literal weight of her feelings confessed now thrown off her shoulders like a heavy shawl. Truth be told, and Aelinor had never appreciated telling the truth so much in her life, she felt happier having said her feelings out loud than she had felt in decades of Craftworld life.

Perhaps this is what it meant to be truly free.

Just before Rishaeron would have made the shot, the preacher ducked and ran behind cover, though not from him. A warp-tainted sororitas broke through the building's door and laid devastating fire upon the man's guards, then chased after him with a jump pack. They both disappeared, the ranger would need a closer angle.

Fate had ordained the Priest must die, but fate is seldom so simple as cause and effect. This priest may be killed by this interloper, but the result was never as easy as the how or why. Both the future and his professional pride depended on this kill being his.

Quick as a flash, he leapt through the window he sniped from and sprinted across nearby rooftops, hoping to cut off both his prey and their new hunter in the winding, squalid streets below.

tearofisha

Life for the self-styled Outcast had taken on an oddly comforting routine of late. Rishaeron would adventure, explore, and bear witness to the beauty of the galaxy, with the occasional burst of violence and adrenaline to keep things interested in the meantime.

Between his missions, he would return to Neni'shelwe or wherever Y'pollea could be found and spend the valuable time he could in her company.

As he had done almost a dozen times now, he threw down a bag containing trophies from his latest kill, in this instant teeth from a monstrous Ork Warboss, but was concerned by the lack of faux-swooning from his paramour.

"My stars, is something troubling you?" He asked with an edge of suspicion to his voice.

@corsair-princess-nenime

corsair-princess-nenime

Y'pollea turned away from the balcony. The realm beyond her tower glowed under the light of the Heg Eye.

"My hero," Y'pollea grinned. "I was just wondering... are you familiar with the term true-born? You'll recall its a Commorran-society thing."

tearofisha

Rishaeron frowned, a momentary gesture that made the Ulthwéan look older than he was before he reverted to his more usual, handsome appearance.

"Somewhat familiar. You are Trueborn, and I've heard you say some truly unkind things about those that are not Trueborn. Why do you ask?" Rishaeron crossed the distance between them, arms at his hips ready to receive her in an embrace.

corsair-princess-nenime

"To gauge your insight. Plainly. Top marks."

Y'pollea idly turned back to the shivering wilderness of her isle.

"Vatborn will tell you we Trueborn are status symbols. Your associate, Aeril, would tell you that - and she would be right. Our parents were rich and powerful enough to have us in security and comfort, after all. You might wonder if I have ever found any comfort in being a status symbol..."

tearofisha

Rishaeron gave a mock bow.

"Thank you."

The Ranger craned his head a little to appreciate the view the tower afforded them. By the standards of Neni'Shelwe, this was a wild, foreboding, and seemingly untamed place, and it was for those reasons he wondered if this was what drew his love to this place.

"I can think of little that would annoy you more." The two of them had rarely discussed her time in Commoragh, the prospect of learning more about his love was a privilege he couldn't pass up.

"Is that why you left? It is difficult to imagine you being a trophy for anyone."

corsair-princess-nenime

Y'pollea nodded, weaving her fingers through his. "Imagine,"

Rishaeron was kind and gentle. As far as choices for a mate went, he wasn't so bad. Not bad at all...

Her head came to rest against his shoulder. "A trophy, and still not good enough to love."

tearofisha

"Then that is the loss of the fools who kept you there. You are here now, and very much loved."

Wraithbone fingertips now trained in the finesse of affection, stroked her check softly as his lips pressed against her temple.

"Just think of all you are and have accomplished. You are surrounded by those who love and treasure you, and none more so than me."

corsair-princess-nenime

Out of Time

@tearofisha

Nenime turned away from the warp portal, its light casting bright patterns over the shell of her jump pack.

“So,” she told Aelinor. “This is it.”

tearofisha

Aelinor gazed past Nenime into the rolling kaleidoscope of colour with the same cold dread of one looking at their executioners axe, paling in its glow.

She swallowed.

"I suppose it is"

This was insane. From top to bottom, there was not a thing about this plan that calmed her nerves. That was, apart from the one person in the universe who gave her courage.

"Nenime... you are sure this is the only way?" Her fingers danced along the Ghosthelm in her hands anxiously, the bulky Warp Jump Generator on her back making her feel ungainly and clumsy.

"I support you, truly. I'm with you. I just..." Again, she looked past the Corsair Princess, at the boiling hell that waited to claim her soul should even a fraction of Nenimes plan, or her abilities failed them. Somehow, despite everything, she let out a nervous chuckle.

"This is a lot."

tearofisha

Life for the self-styled Outcast had taken on an oddly comforting routine of late. Rishaeron would adventure, explore, and bear witness to the beauty of the galaxy, with the occasional burst of violence and adrenaline to keep things interested in the meantime.

Between his missions, he would return to Neni'shelwe or wherever Y'pollea could be found and spend the valuable time he could in her company.

As he had done almost a dozen times now, he threw down a bag containing trophies from his latest kill, in this instant teeth from a monstrous Ork Warboss, but was concerned by the lack of faux-swooning from his paramour.

"My stars, is something troubling you?" He asked with an edge of suspicion to his voice.

@corsair-princess-nenime

corsair-princess-nenime

Y'pollea turned away from the balcony. The realm beyond her tower glowed under the light of the Heg Eye.

"My hero," Y'pollea grinned. "I was just wondering... are you familiar with the term true-born? You'll recall its a Commorran-society thing."

tearofisha

Rishaeron frowned, a momentary gesture that made the Ulthwéan look older than he was before he reverted to his more usual, handsome appearance.

"Somewhat familiar. You are Trueborn, and I've heard you say some truly unkind things about those that are not Trueborn. Why do you ask?" Rishaeron crossed the distance between them, arms at his hips ready to receive her in an embrace.

corsair-princess-nenime

"To gauge your insight. Plainly. Top marks."

Y'pollea idly turned back to the shivering wilderness of her isle.

"Vatborn will tell you we Trueborn are status symbols. Your associate, Aeril, would tell you that - and she would be right. Our parents were rich and powerful enough to have us in security and comfort, after all. You might wonder if I have ever found any comfort in being a status symbol..."

tearofisha

Rishaeron gave a mock bow.

"Thank you."

The Ranger craned his head a little to appreciate the view the tower afforded them. By the standards of Neni'Shelwe, this was a wild, foreboding, and seemingly untamed place, and it was for those reasons he wondered if this was what drew his love to this place.

"I can think of little that would annoy you more." The two of them had rarely discussed her time in Commoragh, the prospect of learning more about his love was a privilege he couldn't pass up.

"Is that why you left? It is difficult to imagine you being a trophy for anyone."

tearofisha

Aelinor chuckled softly, quite amused by the obvious trepidation.

"Only if having guards would help you feel safer. Though you would be in my care, and the only risks on our road is the potential for a sunburn." Truthfully, Aelinor did not want other humans on their little expedition. Not because she required any degree of privacy with Clementiya, but because humans were by their nature covetous, greedy, and stupid. Aelinor doubted the Heiress held any of those qualities. For a noble of impressive influence, she did not outwardly desire power or wealth in the way many others did.

As she followed the young human, Aelinor took in the beautiful works that flanked the halls. Every once in a while, stopping to take in extra detail from a particular piece before having to subtly increase her pace to catch up once more.

"I have always admired the talent of artists. It is a Path I regret not walking myself. Alas. My Path is set now, though perhaps not to strictly as before."

Smiling now, for feeling she understood her guest better, Aelinor folded her arms and took in the sights of the many works-in-progress that littered the studio.

"Do you have everything you need? Fret not, the matters of food and other travel supplies will be taken care of, as you are my guest"

wayward40k

Clementiya was relieved to hear, at least, the trip wasn't expected to be dangerous in any way. The head of security would likely argue with her, if she gave them much chance to - how mad would they be if she tried to sneak away? Aelinor's comment about artists broke the heiress away from the terrifyingly tempting thought about just leaving, and she offered the Aeldari a smile.

"I mean… there's always the option to do art," she started, trying to articulate her feelings on the matter. "And I think everyone should try to, even if only to learn more about themselves. But, ah… I-I know I don't, uhm, know a lot about your culture…" The way Aelinor had phrased it made it sound as though the 'path' to art was no longer allowed to her, which made the heiress a bit sad at the thought. Who would ever deny another the option to create art..?

Clementiya looked over the gathered supplies - a small case had been collected, the essentials needed to at least sketch until she could return to the studio and put the works to an appropriate canvas. There were, too, supplies to do some smaller paintings, but there was an attempt to be mindful of the space required for a canvas to be brought along. Another maid had fetched some suitable traveling clothing for the heiress while she'd focused on the art supplies, and that was delivered in the meanwhile.

"… I believe so..?" Clementiya replied, uncertain now that the moment of departure was so close. The idea of leaving was, again, spiking anxiety: the last time she'd gone elsewhere, there'd been an attack that'd threatened her life. But Aelinor had been there to save her, and it was only Aelinor's presence now keeping her from backing out entirely.

tearofisha

Aelinor was struck for a moment with the wisdom of the humans statement. Doing art to know oneself better was an interesting idea and one that the Seer felt resonated within her. She often felt like a stranger to her deepest and hardest to express innermost thoughts. Could artistic expression be the way to better know herself?

Aelinor took Clementiya's hand in her own and squeezed it gently, fixing her with the kind of eye contact that demanded the unwavering attention of another.

"One day, as I'm sure you are endlessly reminded by those around you, you will be a great Lord of this space, Clementiya. Now make your brief goodbyes like the one-day great Lord you will be." She smiled, doing her best to put the girls' anxieties to rest, without using the psychic abilities she used in battle to bolster the morale of the citizen soldiers of Ulthwé.

"Then we will be on our way."

tearofisha

Life for the self-styled Outcast had taken on an oddly comforting routine of late. Rishaeron would adventure, explore, and bear witness to the beauty of the galaxy, with the occasional burst of violence and adrenaline to keep things interested in the meantime.

Between his missions, he would return to Neni'shelwe or wherever Y'pollea could be found and spend the valuable time he could in her company.

As he had done almost a dozen times now, he threw down a bag containing trophies from his latest kill, in this instant teeth from a monstrous Ork Warboss, but was concerned by the lack of faux-swooning from his paramour.

"My stars, is something troubling you?" He asked with an edge of suspicion to his voice.

@corsair-princess-nenime

corsair-princess-nenime

Y'pollea turned away from the balcony. The realm beyond her tower glowed under the light of the Heg Eye.

"My hero," Y'pollea grinned. "I was just wondering... are you familiar with the term true-born? You'll recall its a Commorran-society thing."

tearofisha

Rishaeron frowned, a momentary gesture that made the Ulthwéan look older than he was before he reverted to his more usual, handsome appearance.

"Somewhat familiar. You are Trueborn, and I've heard you say some truly unkind things about those that are not Trueborn. Why do you ask?" Rishaeron crossed the distance between them, arms at his hips ready to receive her in an embrace.

Life for the self-styled Outcast had taken on an oddly comforting routine of late. Rishaeron would adventure, explore, and bear witness to the beauty of the galaxy, with the occasional burst of violence and adrenaline to keep things interested in the meantime.

Between his missions, he would return to Neni'shelwe or wherever Y'pollea could be found and spend the valuable time he could in her company.

As he had done almost a dozen times now, he threw down a bag containing trophies from his latest kill, in this instant teeth from a monstrous Ork Warboss, but was concerned by the lack of faux-swooning from his paramour.

"My stars, is something troubling you?" He asked with an edge of suspicion to his voice.

@corsair-princess-nenime

#rishaeron

some-old-psyker

Unchecked

When Ana had left, she had told Jenny not to follow, to find the local agricultural temple if things started to go bad for her and if necessary, find Ahkenaten. Jenny had begun to notice Ana acting strangely before she left, sometimes seeming to stop in the middle of a task and stare at her blankly, pupils glowing like a light was being shined on them, even in the middle of the day. It had frightened her a bit, and not many things frightened the Ogryn. She was supposed to be big and strong right? Nothing was supposed to scare her and yet during those times her friend looked at her like that……it just didn’t feel right. Like it was something else looking at her with her friend’s eyes, something evil…..

It was because of those times that Ana had told Jenny she was leaving. She’d be back soon she promised, she just had to get this problem fixed and she’d be back to help her continue with lessons.

This had been days ago. Jenny had gone to work in the fields as usual, even hung out with the other Ogryns in the field, mostly men but some were lady Ogryns like her. But during this time, something was changing. The nightmares were becoming more frequent and frightening, horrifying voices that whispered in her sleep about terrible things that other people were thinking or had done. Sometimes the temperature of the room would drop suddenly around her, candles or electric lights would flicker or things would simply fly off of shelves. Once a glass of milk that had previously been perfectly fine, curdled in her presence.

One evening, Jenny had awoken from a particularly terrible dream to frost on the walls and windows and being able to see her breath in the air. A primal fear had gripped her and she started to recite the prayers and chants that Ana had taught her, or at least what she remembered of them. This helped her calm down and caused the frost to recede as the power within her grew tranquil once more.

The Ogryn couldn’t go back to sleep, and she knew the priests at the little agricultural temple would help her, so she got up, put on the cleanest clothes she had and started down the darkened road towards the sanctuary.

@tearofisha

tearofisha

Aelinor wrapped her fingertips against her sword hilt anxiously as she waited for Ana to complete her preparations. In the dark calculus of life and death that Farseers dealt with every day, Aelinor wondered if she would have to kill Jenny as well as Ana if the worst came to the worst. Two thoughts occurred in quick succession; the unlikelihood of her being able to perform such an act single handedly, and the shame of still considering these things around those that were meant to be her allies.

When Ana dropped to the floor, Aelinor summoned her runes and raised her hand in the humans direction. As she had done so many times on Ulthwé, she reinforced the mind of the human against the horrors of the Warp. Even here, in her physical form, the strength it took to reinforce Ana's mind and overcome the icy sting of whatever assailed her was superlative.

"Quickly, human. Fight your daemons. Defeat the darkness." She strained through clenched teeth.

whitefriartuck

Lady Malys confirmed!

cursed-40k-thoughts

Archon

tearofisha

Can't wait to add these to my 4 custom Archons already made from Combat Patrols. 4 Archons, one new one and a Lady Malys makes for 6 hilarious Archons in one army lol.

primarchslut

DAWN OF WAR - SOULSTORM CAMPAIGNS ↳ DARK ELDAR

You are Archon Tahril, of the Black Heart Kabal. You have traversed the Webway paths from dark Commorragh to make a blood-sport of Kaurava battlefield. Revel in conquest and feast upon the souls of your enemies. The Dark Eldar have no equal for speed or cruelty.

throne-mechanicum

Ghost in the City

“Machine Spirit compliant and operating at 97.5 percent, My Lady,” a masculine voice crackled over the Vox comm.

“Thank you, Maniel. Any heat signatures on the ground? I’m not seeing any from up here,” Kyrie reported back. She felt calm and controlled from her Throne Mechanicum as Thunder of War strode through the eerily quiet streets of the abandoned city. Its ocular sensors were her eyes; its steel carapace was her skin; the massive Reaper Chainsword and Gatling Cannon affixed to Thunder’s respective right and left arms were a deadly extension of her will. The Hab-Blocks lining the streets vibrated with each booming step, thick greenish pollutant fog swirling about the Knight’s knees.

“Negative, My Lady, but patience is a virtue. Our mission here is thoroughness.”

“Our mission here is a damned waste of time and resources,” Kyrie snipped back irritably.

House Torden’s Mechanicus enclave had been perturbed by reports of xenos presence on a civilized planet just a handful of light-years from Grymm—unsettled enough to encourage their new Duchess to deploy her Knight with a platoon of Skitarii. Civilians here had been temporarily evacuated (after thorough scans for gene-stealer infection or other such xenos filth). Personally Kyrie thought this was a gross overreaction; Knights were for mowing down swathes of Greenskins and Cultists on the battlefield, not tiptoeing through empty cities and peeking around corners.

“My Lady, you should activate your ion shield,” Maniel suggested.

Irritation flared, amplified by generations of past pilots hissing impatient bloodlust into her mind. She snarled silently at them and they subsided for the moment. “I will activate my shield when I am presented with an enemy worth defending against.”

Kyrie ducked Thunder of War under a crumbling stone archway topped with the Imperial Aquila and paused. Behind her, the Skitarii tanks and ground troops stuttered to a halt. “We’re not covering any real ground in this formation. Maniel, break off and split up; divide the platoon into squads and send each to a different sector.”

“Disagreement, My Lady; unknown surroundings and potential xenos threat indicate division of forces to be highly unwise.”

“That’s an order, Tech-Priest. I’m sick of wandering around here. The faster we find the enemy and eradicate them, the better…or we confirm that we’re wasting our time and get off-world. Take Beta Squad to Sector Six.”

“Challenge, My Lady; as your Commander and Advisor I am compelled to remain by your side.”

“And I’m compelled to boot you across the city,” Kyrie grumbled under her breath, quietly enough that the Vox failed to pick it up. “Maniel, I am piloting an eighty-ton, thirty-five-foot tall, heavily armed and armored war machine. There is little here that could possibly pose a threat to me, and if I do happen to encounter something that does, I will Vox you immediately. Now get to Sector Six.”

The crackling silence on the other end bespoke the Tech-Priest’s reluctance, but he finally replied, “Compliance,” and Kyrie heard him rapping out orders to the rest of the Skitarii forces over the open channel. Kyrie turned and watched them break away, the rumble of light tanks, whirr of bikes and patter of dozens of boots fading down the various crooked side-streets.

“Thank the Throne,” she muttered, grateful to be free of her annoying little retinue at last. Swinging back around, she set about scanning the city with renewed attention.

@tearofisha

tearofisha

The gambit worked, and Rishaeron quickly engaged his Cameleoline Cloak. In an instant, his outline blurred, and whatever thermal or audio signifiers that might have revealed him to an adversary were disguised by superlative Aeldari tech.

It mattered little, however, when a rake of indiscriminate fire tore through the building, shredding rockcrete, terminals, and the odd horrifying Servitor deemed too worthless to be part of the evacuation. It would have slaughtered Rishaeron, too, had he not begun his sprint through the building moments before. From his high perch, he leapt from the building to a roof to another and a third before he finally allowed himself a glance over his shoulder.

To the Ranger, it sounded as though the very sky was tearing in two as the Knight ploughed through the first building like a wrecking ball. Debris scattered for hundreds of feet in all directions as Rishaeron watched in a mix of amazement and revulsion at the destruction taking place before him, before again, he was moving.

The final building stowed his Shroudrunner Jetbike "Suckerpunch," and upon breathlessly reaching his steed, he executed the second part of his plan. Gunning the engine like a Commorite street racer, he roared through the skyline until he was far from the rampaging Knight and overlooking the column of Skitarii as they marched in the streets. Once again, the spied through the scope of Fatethreader, whispered a prayer to both Kurnous and Khaine before firing.

One shot, two, a third of the augmented humans fell beneath his Rifle until they scattered into cover like ants scattering under an upturned rock. Smiling his satisfaction beneath his black plumed helmet, he waited for the booming footsteps of the Knight to come in support of its infantry support.

varliona