Chereads / Prince of Commorragh / Chapter 8 - Craftworld Cyrax

Chapter 8 - Craftworld Cyrax

I left the training ground as mother approached celeste. I returned to my room which was cleared of debris and bodies. I sat in my room in a meditative position. I allowed the warp to flow through me and willed it to show me the people in charge of the attack.

The warp in its sickly sweet voice echoed: Syren Baela, Farseer Malekith and Craft World Cyrax.

The first was expected but the fact I had a farseer going after my life was highly concerning. Either I was a tool to target my mother or he has seen something that gives my life importance beyond the immediate. Craftworld Cyrax's involvement only deepened the mystery, suggesting a larger and more sinister plot at work. The Eldar rarely acted without a purpose, and their machinations often spanned centuries.

I opened my eyes, the vision fading, leaving a lingering sense of unease. These were formidable enemies, each with their own deadly skills and motives. Syren Baela was a name whispered in fear, a merciless assassin whose reputation for brutality was well-earned. Farseer Malekith, with his prophetic powers, was an even greater threat. The Eldar farseer could see possibilities and futures that mortals could only dream of. And Craftworld Cyrax, a powerful and ancient bastion of the Eldar, was not to be underestimated.

Immediately I sent a message to my mother through our channel that we need to meet and I was off to the most confidential room in the house. Dark Eldar have plenty of methods to jumble up scrying methods but the easiest way was simply to be in areas perpetuated in hate and death.

Unless their psykers and farseers want a 1 way ticket straight to the depravities of the dark eldar and potentially slaneesh then they often stay away from such suicidal tasks. I met mother near the torture pits where experiments were still carrying on the smells of melted flesh and screams of shrill horrors filled my body with purpose anew.

I found mother walking quickly, "What is so urgent my son?" "Either me or you is being targeted by Craftworld Cyrax, specifically farseer Malekith who is working in tandem with Syren Baela." 

She had a deep inhale and her eyes lit up in a display of fury unlike what I've seen from her before. "Those draven cowards dare!? I'll burn down their damned craftworld to cinders if I must." "Do you know why they are after us?" I asked, trying to get any idea what caused them to target us specifically. "Yes. I killed the seer's wife almost a thousand years ago" she snorted at this.

Her words were accompanied by a cruel smile, a reminder of the ruthless nature of our existence. "That explains the farseer's vendetta," I said, "but what about Syren Baela? She's not known for taking sides in personal grudges."

Mother's smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression. "Baela's involvement is more troubling. She rarely acts without a significant reward. Someone must have hired her, someone with deep pockets and a desire to see us dead."

"Or worse," I added. "The Eldar's motives are often layered, with each move part of a larger, more intricate plan."

Mother nodded. "Indeed. We cannot afford to underestimate them. We must strike first, and we must strike hard. Their craftworld is a fortress, but it has weaknesses."

"We'll need to gather our forces," I said. "Agreed," Mother said. "I'll see to the preparations. You focus on strengthening our defenses and gathering intelligence. We need to know every detail of their plans."

As our forces gathered, the tension was palpable. The air was thick with the promise of violence, and every Dark Eldar present knew the stakes. Our enemies were powerful, but we would meet their challenge with ruthlessness and precision.

I began to coordinate the fortification of our defenses, ensuring every weak point was shored up and every contingency planned for. The labyrinthine corridors of our stronghold would become a deathtrap for any intruders, and our warriors, honed by years of conflict, were ready to unleash their fury.

In the depths of our bastion, surrounded by the instruments of our dark craft, I prepared myself for the coming conflict. The Eldar were cunning, their plots intricate, but we were masters of pain and deception. We would face them with all the savagery and cunning of the Dark Eldar, and we would make them regret ever daring to challenge us.

The preparations were swift and ruthless. My abilities brought back invaluable intelligence, mapping out points of vulnerability within Craftworld Cyrax. Armed with this knowledge, we formulated a plan of attack that would exploit these weaknesses with precision.

Our forces gathered in the shadowy depths of our stronghold, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. Warriors, bedecked in armor adorned with the trophies of past victories, stood ready. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid tang of fear, fueling our collective hunger.

Mother addressed our assembled forces, her voice carrying the weight of authority and vengeance. "The Craftworld Eldar dare to challenge us," she began, her eyes blazing. "They bring their seers and assassins, thinking they can destroy us. But they have forgotten who we are."

A roar of approval echoed through the chamber, the sound reverberating off the walls like a beast awakening from slumber. The energy was electric, and I could feel the raw power coursing through our ranks.

We moved with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine, our fleet launching into the void with silent ferocity. The dark expanse of space lay before us, a fitting battleground for the coming conflict. Our ships, sleek and deadly, cut through the void like blades through flesh.

The warp was roiling around me. I could feel how eager it was for my beck and call. The temptations of the warp are so strong and the more gifted you are the harder it is to fight against its wondrous call. I could feel the energy surge around me but I guided it with experience. I knew not to call on the full vastness of its energy; it would consume me long before it consumed my enemy's.

I instead allowed it to imbue my body with strength and to grow used to its influence and learn to control its power, even by a mere fraction. We dropped out into realspace once more and saw the craftworld.

Beautiful and sleek in design, I looked at the wraithbone ship and was in awe momentarily. It was like looking at a masterpiece. The whole thing looked as if it was part of one great beast. It was a massive construct but was filled with gorgeous hues of colorful energy.

This excursion would do two things for me: one, allow me to take some Aeldari prisoners that could be more trustworthy than buying them from other Drukhari; and the other, test their defenses before the full raid.

Our ships hurtled towards the massive wraithbone ship, and immediately enemy dragonships and Aconite frigates littered the space around the craftworld. Our army stood a couple of thousand ships strong, theirs in the tens of thousands, but what we lacked in upfront military we made up for in lethality. Our ships were often equal in speed, but in direct combat, we Drukhari have always been the bearers of destruction.

The fight began, and the flickering of fluorescent lights filled the void between us. Laser battery weapons flashed through the skies, hitting Aeldari and Drukhari alike. Scythe missiles began to litter the sky around us as ship after ship of Aeldari was either reduced to scrap or captured by lightning-fast Corsair escort vessels.

I was piloting a Bleak Soul Class Cruiser and was engaging in combat with both dragonships and a Hemlock destroyer. Our dark lances fired in rapid succession, cutting through the enemy's sleek ships with deadly precision. The dragonships retaliated with their pulsar lances, beams of intense energy that sliced through our ranks. One of our escort vessels exploded in a brilliant flash of light, debris scattering into the void.

My heart pounded as I maneuvered the cruiser, dodging incoming fire and returning it in kind. I watched as our raider squads launched boarding actions, their sleek skiffs darting towards the enemy ships. Grappling hooks and boarding bridges extended, and our warriors poured onto the decks of the Eldar vessels, engaging in brutal close-quarters combat. The cries of battle echoed through the void, a symphony of violence and chaos.

Amidst the melee, a squadron of Hemlock destroyers swooped in, their sonic weapons unleashing devastating waves of sound that tore through our formations. I barked orders, directing our fighters to intercept and neutralize them. Dark matter cannons unleashed volleys of destructive energy, disintegrating the enemy's sleek ships in bursts of purple light.

The sky was a chaotic tapestry of explosions and tracer fire. I saw an Aeldari frigate ramming one of our cruisers, the impact sending both ships spiraling into a deadly embrace. The enemy frigate erupted in flames as our warriors breached its hull, slaughtering the crew and taking control. Our ships darted and weaved through the battlefield, exploiting every opening, every moment of weakness.

In the midst of the chaos, I spotted a larger vessel, an Aeldari Voidstalker battleship. Its elegant design belied its deadly capabilities. Realizing the threat it posed, I directed our forces towards it. The Voidstalker unleashed a torrent of fire, its bright lances and torpedoes creating a deadly net around us. Our shields flickered and strained under the onslaught, but we pressed on.

I launched scythe missiles directly at the Voidstalker. The missiles streaked through the void, weaving past enemy fire to strike their target with pinpoint accuracy. The resulting explosions rocked the enemy ship, and its defenses flickered momentarily. Seizing the opportunity, our cruisers closed in, unleashing a concentrated barrage that breached its hull and sent it careening into the depths of space.

The call for retreat was sounded, but I was determined to leave a lasting mark. I directed our remaining forces to unleash a final, devastating salvo. Scythe missiles and dark matter cannons fired in unison, a deadly rain of destruction that pummeled the craftworld and its defenders. Explosions rippled across the enemy fleet, and debris filled the void as we pulled back to the portal to the webway.

Despite our shields taking a beating of a lifetime, the ship pulled out in one piece. The casualties were worse than anticipated, but it was to be expected in a raid like this. We lost around 100 escort ships and at least four frigates, but the casualties on the other side would make this look like a joke. At least 400 escort ships were annihilated or raided and taken with us, and easily 11 frigate-class ships were broken beyond repair.

We captured 208 Aeldari in this raid and have the chance to gain some crucial information once the 'interrogations' truly begin. Not only this, but I finally have some 'teachers' in the ways of the warp, I thought to myself while looking at the two Aeldari I confiscated. One was a middle-aged-looking Aeldari man with a rigid look in his eyes, the other an older-looking female Aeldari.

"Just what I needed: new teachers and new experiments. And how fortuitous I got both in one go." I laughed as they glared.