Lord Drake Misadventures 28
By: Vyce Dryke 2009
On the Daemon World of the Black Draconis Space Marine legion..
Lord Drake's voice echoes across the planet.
Lord Drake: Okay ladies, gentleman, and what have you-but mainly cultists-It's time for another one of those Cultist meetings.
All across the sphere, Cultists everywhere shudder. Their dread lord had called for them, for another of the 'infamous' meetings. The very one that led Cultist Bob to his insanity, others to their doom, and still some others ended up as Chaos Spawn or bits of the decoration. Cultists in their droves flocked to the main citadel of the Legion, some hopeful for a chance to go up in the ranks, some would be happy to just get out alive, and still some others were being dragged forcefully to the main building.
Lord Drake: Ah. It's that time of the year again..
Vyce: What time of the year?
Tlanextic groans.
Tlanextic: The day, out of so many others in the year, that I dread, yet at the same time I am excited for.
Vyce: What is it?
Lord Drake: You haven't been here all that long dragon, so you don't know too much about our Daemon World. Suffice to say... Today is a glorious day.
Vyce: Yeah. But what is it?
Lord Drake: Chaos Space Marine Recruitment day.
Lord Drake pauses, as if it was something dramatic. Vyce merely arches an eyebrow.
Vyce: So it's not really a meeting?
Lord Drake: Well... Kinda sorta. This is where we find out which cultists are best dead, stuck as cultists, or have a chance to rise in position.
Vyce: This isn't another filler episode is it?
Lord Drake: No...?
Vyce: Hmm... But Rhuemwight is still a Cultist.
Lord Drake: This is true.. But then he's more amusing to me in his current rankings that it doesn't matter.
Lord Drake, Tlanextic, and Vyce are at the central citadel, or off to the side of it in a large arena sort of thing. The three overlooking the various cultists as they walk in.
Cultist Dob: Wow. I've never been here before!
Cultist Dunkok: Hey. I think I see Lord Drake!
Cultist Grelch: Whoa. Is that a dragon?
Dob: A dragon? What's that?
Dunkok: I thought I told you about these things Dob.
Dob: Huh? Who are you? Where am I? What's going on?
Grelch: I don't think there is much hope for that one. Memory of a gold fish.
Dunkok: Think he'll go first?
Grelch: Likely. Surprised he survived this far.
Dob: So what's that thing?
Grelch: What thing?
Cultist Dob point upwards, above there was something that simply could be called a claw. The thing slowly powers to life, making a humming noise.
Dunkok: I think we're about to find out.
Lord Drake clears his throat, eying the dragon and the Sorcerer with a grin.
Lord Drake: So. Time to watch the fun.
Vyce: The fun?
Tlanextic: You'll see...
Lord Drake walks up to a podium with a mic and some sort of control mechanism.
Lord Drake: Men! Women! Vermin! Well. I suppose you all are vermin. Welcome to another one of our Cultist 'meetings'.
Lord Drake imitates quotation marks with his fingers.
Lord Drake: Anyway. I recognize some of the survivors from the last one, and some new faces.. For those -not- in the know. I am Lord Drake. To my right is the Sorceror Tlanextic, and behind me is the Chaos Dragon Vyce.
There is some murmuring at the mention of the dragon, Vyce snorts, slightly amused.
Lord Drake: So anyway... We are gathered here today.. to witness the marriage betw-
Tlanextic: My Lord! That's the wrong cue card!
Lord Drake: Ah hell. RHUEMWIGHT!
Rhuemwight, holding the cue cards in the back of the room, smiles innocently.
Lord Drake: You've failed me again! It's time to demonstrate the awesome power of this fully operational battlestation!
Tlanextic: Wrong card again Sir.
Lord Drake: Curse these things! I must abolish them!
Lord Drake works the controls, and hits a button, the Giant klaw on the ceiling drops from the roof, landing on a few cultists.
Lord Drake: Ooops. Wrong button. How about this one..
The gripped klaw extends, smashing aside a few more.
Lord Drake: Oh my.
He pushes another button, and the klaw spins, flaying a few more.
Lord Drake: Uhm.. Hm. you know what. Nevermind.
Vyce pawfaces the same time Tlanextic facepalms, and the two shake their heads as Lord Drake makes the klaw move upwards.
Lord Drake: Anyway. I seem to have killed some of you, but no matter. It must have been the will of the gods! Besides. I'm your iron-fisted ruler! What I say goes or your bolted to death.
There is murmuring among the crowd, and the klaw on the ceiling flexes and the room goes quiet.
Lord Drake: So anyway, we only take the best of the best of the best of the best of th-
Vyce: He's like a broken record...
Tlanextic: He does this every time.
Lord Drake: -best of the best of the best of the bes-
Vyce: Does he even breathe?
Tlanextic: I have no idea.
Lord Drake: -f the best into our legion. Our main enemies are the Black Dragons and the Imperial... Templar?
There is a long pause as a Space Marine in White, Red and Gold power armor walks among the cultists.
Lord Drake: What in the nine hells? You there! Space Marine!
Imperial Templar: I have a name you know.
Lord Drake: I don't care!
Imperial Templar: It's Ser Eiyan.
Lord Drake: Ser.. Eiyan... What's with people insisting on their names when I don't care?
Tlanextic shrugs.
Lord Drake: Right. Anyway. Free promotion to the cultist who kills Ser..
Eiyan: Eiyan.
Lord Drake: Right. Eiyan. Whatever. Did I tell you I don't care?
Eiyan: Three times already.
Lord Drake: Well I'll tell you again. I don't care. GET HIM!
There is chirping for a moment, the cultists warily eye the Space Marine.
Dob: Whoa! Who's that dude in the yellow armor?
Eiyan: Huh? what? Go away Heretic.
Dob: Heretic?
Dob stares dumbly at Eiyan for a few minutes.
Dob: Who are you again?
Eiyan: I am Ser Eiyan! I am a Space Marine of the Imperial Templar.
Dob stares again.
Dob: Who are you?
Eiyan: I am Ser Eiy-
Vyce pawfaces.
Vyce: This is going to take awhile.
Dunkok: Grelch! Don't you see? While he's busy, this is our opportunity to rise!
Grelch: I suppose so...
Dunkok: Let's kill him together and both hand them in, we can become Chaos Space Marines!
They both sneak up on Eiyan.
Eiyan: -of the Imperial Templar.
Dob: Who ar-
Dunkok: SURPRISE!
Dunkok leaps and stabs a knife into Eiyan's neck. Eiyan doesn't seem to notice.
Eiyan: -pace marine of the Imperi-
Dunkok: What the hell?
Grelch: Quick! Grab his sword!
The remaining cultist group form into a mob and violence ensues.
Lord Corrack: CAT FIGHT! LOSE THE CLOTHES!
Lord Drake: But those are guys...
Lord Corrack: So?
Lord Drake: They are.. Cultist. Guys.
Lord Corrack: So?
Lord Drake: Nevermind.
Lord Corrack: LOSE THE CLOTHES!
Tlanextic: When did you get here?
Lord Corrack: I don't remember. I just appear out of nowhere remember? Mmm.. Violence.
The fighting continues, and Eiyan doesn't appear to be bothered. After five or ten minutes, he finally falls over, weakly muttering that he is Ser Eiyan of the Imperial Templar. And for some odd reason Dob is holding the helmet.
Lord Drake: YOU!
Dob: Huh? What?
Lord Drake: Get 'im!
The klaw quickly grabs Dob and carries him away.
Lord Drake: He now has the honor to become one of us!
Tlanextic: But my Lord. He's flawed!
The klaw quickly returns, except there is no Dob, and hovers menacingly over Tlanextic.
Lord Drake: What I say goes!
Grelch and Dunkok leap and hold onto the klaw.
Lord Drake: Anyway. The rest of you are dismissed to the obstacle course. Dismissed!
The klaw moves out of sight, carrying the two cultists away. the rest of the cultists are doomed to go through the obstacle course... OF DOOM. Where there is the lake of doom. The pit of doom. The Candy Mountain of doom.. and even the cake of doom!
Tlanextic: THE CAKE IS A LIE.
END TRANSMISSION 28
