The village of Hergensberg was in complete chaos. The once clean streets were littered with rubble and bodies; the once beautiful buildings were being scorched away by a coruscating firestorm, burning and destroying all in it's path. The villagers were in disarray. Women screamed for their children as men grabbed the nearest weapon and tried to ward off the attackers. But, their defence was ultimately in vain, as those who opposed the raiders were slaughtered without hesitation, whilst those who cooperated were put in chains and led back to whatever hell spawned the dark armoured warriors.
Danen Khalith watched the surrounding anarchy with gleeful jubilation. The intoxicating smell of death reached his senses, causing his excitement to reach new heights. A twisted smile formed on his face as the agonising screams of the dying filled the air. Oh how he loved slave raids; they thrilled him to no end. Closing his eyes, he raised his head into the air and breathed in the stench of burning flesh and wood, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine.
He was standing in the middle of the town's main road, seemingly oblivious to the bloody battle surrounding him. His scaly green cloak fluttered calmly in the wind, whilst his stance appeared relaxed and pleasant, as if he were standing amidst a quiet field, without a care in the world.
Suddenly, he was brought back to reality by the guttural roar of a battle-cry. He swiftly drew his barbed sword from it's sheath and tore his eyes open, just in time to see an armoured human come screaming out of the surrounding chaos, swinging a large sword furiously. With honed reflexes, Danen leapt back from the clumsy attack and brought his own sword to bear. The human, shaking with rage, stood in an attack position and started circling Danen.
His surroundings became a blur as Danen focused on his opponent, picking out the gaps and weak spots in the human soldier's scorched armour. The man was in bad shape. With multiple bleeding cuts on his limbs and badly beaten armour, he had already been through much tribulation in the battle.
"Enough of this, Elf," the man said in a low growl, coming to a stop in front of Danen. "As long as I draw breath, I will fight you and your wretched kin until you no longer plague this villiage."
"Well," Danen said as smoothly as possible in a crude human tongue. "I'll just have to fix that problem, won't I?"
The human answered by lashing out with his sword, sending a wide swing aimed for Danen's head. Danen scoffed at the human's predictability and ducked low to the ground, avoiding the blade swooping over his head. Taking advantage of the wide swing, he struck at the human's left leg, causing the man to fall to his knees, moaning in pain. Avoiding another ungainly attack, he descended upon the human and sliced his sword across the man's uncovered neck.
Danen revelled in the spray of blood squirting up from the human's wound. To him, there was no greater pleasure than driving a sleek blade into soft flesh. He watched in sadistic glee, as the man dropped the ground, desperately trying to hold in the blood that was gushing out of his neck. This human would no longer bother the raiding forces.
As he stepped away from his newest kill, the surrounding area began to come back to him. The sound, sight, and scent all came washing over him, causing his senses to go into overdrive. The twisted smile returned to his face as he noticed a large group of human soldiers pour out of a nearby side street and into the main road. They were facing away from Danen, presenting their halberds in a silent challenge to a group of Corsairs further up the street, who were shackling newly captured slaves. Danen shuddered in anticipation; the single human had not been enough, he needed more bloodshed. He longed for his blade to taste more flesh.
Silently, he crept towards his prey from behind, careful not to alert them to his presence. In front of the humans, the Corsairs formed into a line, raising their cruel blades in readiness. As he skulked, he pulled a dagger free from it's holster on his belt and held it tightly in his left hand.
The human sergeant raised his sword, ready to give the order to charge, but before the first word left his mouth, Danen struck. His sword flashed out from the dark, gutting one of them, whilst his dagger was driven into the neck of another. Two of the humans were felled in an instant.
The men were taken aback by the sudden attack. Turning to face the Druchii noble cutting into them, they presented the Corsairs with their rear. There wasn't a single moment of hesitation as the Dark Elves leapt into combat, slaughtering the humans from behind. Danen let out a mocking laugh as he severed a soldiers leg at the knee, leaving him on the ground, crying in agony. Many more of the men fell before Danen, killed by a single stroke of the Druchii's crimson blade.
Within moments, Danen was standing amongst a pile of corpses, soaked from head to toe in crimson. He surveyed the carnage around him, basking in the malevolent scent of death that surrounded everything in the small town. Lifting his blade to his eyes, he inspected the blood encrusted surface. The carving of his family crest, a double headed serpent, stood out with perfect visibility, the blood seeming to enhance the symbol's prestige.
"Milord?" a voice said, breaking his concentration. Danen frowned and turned to see the face of Verath, a Corsair Reaver, looking at him expectantly.
"What is it, Verath?" Danen asked, slightly irritated at the Corsair's presence.
Verath ignored his lord's tone and continued. "Milord, we have defeated most of the Town Guard and have obtained a number of captives. The raid was quite a success."
"Excellent, order your men to pull back to the ships. We have what we came for, now let's leave before these pathetic humans send for help."
Verath nodded and turned on his heel, shouting a number of orders towards his men. Danen turned away from the others and began to march towards the gates of the town. He sighed. The new slaves would please his father very much and bring much needed revenue in the markets of Har Ganeth. Today had been a good day; a successful day.
The Dark Elf host marched with their shackled captives over the hill separating Hergensburg from the sea. Danen stood on the ridge of the hill, looking at the desecrated town below, the twisted smile in place once again. He basked in the destruction of the firestorm lighting up the empty streets. Oh how he loved slave raids.