Dark Elves Pdf

[Auriville Cha]

"There are not enough words in your simple tongue to express our hatred for them, Human. Killers, despoilers, slavers and thieves we name them, but not one of these oft-earned titles begins to describe the depths of their depravity. They have neither mercy nor honour. They roam and kill in darkness called up by their foul sorceries. They are so base as to specifically target children for their depredations. The capricious folk of Ulthuan claim that they are their despised kin, exiled long ago, but truly, can one ever trust the words of an Elf?"

The Dark Elves, or the Druchii as they call themselves in their own tongue, also known as the Naggarothi or the "Dark Ones,"[5a] are one of the most ancient, powerful, and certainly the most sadistic of the three major Elven civilisations of the Known World. In the bleak, chilly lands of the continent of Naggaroth in the New World lies the Dark Elven realms ruled by the Witch King Malekith, a nation born of the intensities of malice and hate that only Elves are capable of feeling, a kingdom that seeks nothing more than to despoil a world that they believe loathes their existence. With malevolent eyes, the Dark Elves watch this dying world knowing it is their birthright to rule all that they survey and that those who live upon it are born to do nothing more than to grovel at their feet.[1a]

The Druchii are raiders, slavers and heartless reavers of the highest degree. Their every whim being nothing more than to sow misery and pain to all that oppose them, for misery and pain is the very lifeblood of their existence. Thus do their Black Arks and Corsair Fleets sail the great waters of the world, raiding and enslaving all they encounter as a tribute to their own avaricious desires. Yet even should every other land bow to their rule, the Dark Elves know that they cannot claim their glorious inheritance whilst their hated brethren, the High Elves, endure. Until the day dawns when the Isles of Ulthuan are finally theirs, the Dark Elves will continue their bloody quest. Great raiding fleets, their sails black against the night sky, bring woe and destruction to all the shores of the world often because there is simply no one who can stand against them.[1c]

With every year that passes the power of Naggaroth ascends to greater heights, built upon the backs of slaves and fuelled by a constant stream of plunder from far-off lands. As the other elder races fade, the Dark Elves thrive, knowing that their hour has at last come. [1c] Stormclouds gather across the High Elf realms, and the Witch King's malevolent laughter echoes upon the wind. Naggaroth will rise, Ulthuan will fall, and a vengeance thousands of years in the making will finally see its bloody conclusion.[1c]

The earliest days of the Elves go unrecorded, even by their own chronicles. They lived in contentment and peace on the isle of Ulthuan at the centre of the world. There they learned the arts of civilisation and the skills of magic from the enigmatic Old Ones. This paradise was shattered and the Elves doomed to a slow dwindling by the coming of Chaos.[1k]

When the great star gate of the Old Ones collapsed, the ravaging Realm of Chaos spilled into the world and a tide of Daemons swept across the globe. Sustained by the roaring magic of the broken gate, the Daemons roamed at will, slaughtering countless mortal creatures and defiling the lands.

When they came upon Ulthuan, the Daemons found an island steeped in magical energy. They gathered into a massive horde to devour and destroy the Elves' homeland. The Elves were defenceless against this surprise onslaught, untouched as they were by the depravities of war, their queen a figure of peace and healing.[1k]

Yet from the blood and slaughter emerged the greatest Elf hero to have ever walked the world: Aenarion. In him, the mightiest warrior spirit was kindled, and it was Aenarion who would rally the Elves and teach them the ways of war.

His heart burned with the dark fires of battle and his prowess with blade, spear, and bow remain unmatched to this day. A beacon of hope, Aenarion fought across Ulthuan and in his presence the warlike nature of the Elves was awoken.[1k]

Though Aenarion and his growing band of warriors fought hard and long, the Daemon horde was unending in number. Aenarion called to the Elven gods to aid him, offering sacrifices to them for their intervention. Yet the gods remained silent. In desperation, Aenarion went to the sacred fire of Asuryan, lord of the Elven pantheon, and offered himself as the ultimate sacrifice.

With prayers upon his lips, Aenarion hurled himself into the white-hot flames. Though the mystical fires burnt his body and seared his soul, Aenarion refused to surrender. Through almighty strength of will, he lived through the punishment of the cleansing fires.

Purified by his ordeal, a light shone from within Aenarion, a glow of power that filled Elves with courage and caused Daemons to cower in his presence. Invigorated by the purity of Asuryan, Aenarion waged his war with ever greater zeal. Soon he was hailed as the "Phoenix King," the reborn son of Asuryan.[1k]

As Aenarion's army swelled, the Daemon host recoiled from the renewed anger of the Elves. It was at this time that Aenarion met with the first of the Dragontamers, the powerful mage Caledor. With the aid of his Dragon riders, Caledor too had held back the first invasion of the Daemons from his lands. The two saw the strength that existed in each other and shared a common purpose.

Caledor recognised the sacred blessing bestowed upon Aenarion and swore fealty to the Phoenix King, adding the strength of his armies to the host of Aenarion. For decades the two fought against the Daemons and the Elves honed their warcraft well. Their natural grace steeled with the discipline of Aenarion, the armies of Ulthuan grew in power year by year. As magic swirled through the world, Caledor set the priests of the smith-god Vaul to bind the mystical energies into weapons with which to fight the Daemons.[1k]

Yet for all of the strength of the Phoenix King's hosts, the legions of Chaos Daemons were without number and the magelord Caledor saw that there could be no ultimate victory by war alone. So Caledor devised a bold plan to rid the world of Chaos forever.

The Dragontamer and his mages would create a magical vortex to siphon away the power of the Daemons and return it to the Realm of Chaos, forcing the Daemons to fade back from whence they had come. When he heard the plan, Aenarion cursed Caledor as a fool, for the magic and weapons the Elves used against the Daemons drew heavily upon the arcane energies of Chaos pouring from the north to maintain their potency.[1k]

Aenarion then heard news that was to quench the fire of his heart and turn it into a chill hatred. His wife, the Everqueen Astarielle, was slain and his children were missing. In a cold rage, Aenarion swore that he would destroy every Daemon in existence in vengeance for this heinous act.

Though calmer minds counselled otherwise, Aenarion travelled to the Blighted Isle and entered the Shrine of Khaine, the Elves' bloody-handed god of war. Jutting from within the black altar stood the weapon of the Lord of Murder -- the Widowmaker, the Spear of Vengeance, the Sword of Khaine, the Godslayer. It was an accursed weapon and the moment Aenarion drew it from the altar he doomed both himself and his line.[1k]

Armed with the weapon of the war god, Aenarion slaughtered Daemons by their thousands from the back of the immense Dragon Indraugnir. The hordes of Chaos were hurled from Ulthuan by the might of the Elves. Magical wards and glittering spears protected the growing cities of the Elves from attack and for a while a fragile peace settled over the lands.

In the ravaged lands of Nagarythe, in the north of Ulthuan, Aenarion set his capital and established his kingdom. Here rose the great fortress of Anlec, a bastion against the Daemons from which the armies of Aenarion could sally forth. Its towers rose higher than any other city in Ulthuan, and five curtain walls surrounded a central keep that could hold ten thousand warriors. It was a city built in defiance of the legions of Chaos, its black and silver banners proclaiming that these were Aenarion's lands.

To him came the most warlike and vengeful Elves, to serve in the army of the Deathbringer. Though his despair at Astarielle's death never abated, Aenarion took a new wife, to bear him a son and heir. She was Morathi, a seeress, who it was claimed Aenarion rescued from the grip of Daemons. Later legends say that Morathi bewitched the Phoenix King, though it will never be known whether this is true or if in his rage and pain he simply did not care about her true character or history.[1k]

In due course, Morathi gave birth to a fine and strong son that Aenarion named Malekith and took as his heir. Hunting, duelling, and other blood sports became common in the Court of Aenarion and it was here that the most proficient warriors gathered to hone their skills in daily battles against encroaching Daemons.

Nagarythe became a land obsessed with war and death and Caledor departed to found his own kingdom in the south, much to the anger of Aenarion. Morathi spoke to Malekith and taught him the secrets of rulership and diplomacy, even as Aenarion taught his son his unmatched skill at arms and the gift of command.

In time, the Daemons came again in a weltering tide of death that eclipsed all assaults so far. While Aenarion rode forth once more atop Indraugnir, Caledor resolved to enact his plan for the magical vortex. Though he battled as hard as before, this time Aenarion could not break the daemonic horde.

When Caledor and his mages began their complex ritual to disperse the magical energy that sustained the Daemons, Aenarion had no choice but to protect them. He surrounded the chanting mages with his army as Daemons of all the Chaos Gods assailed them from every side.

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