The Circle of Dargeth [Fan Fiction]
The Circle of Dargeth This is the description of a place that I may use in some of my Characters backgrounds. Anyone feel free to use this in an RP, or whatever else. ************************************************************************************** “The Circle of Dargeth is a place known only by the dustiest of Scholars, and even then their knowledge of it is limited. It is generally regarded as a myth. Any discussion of this place is considered a heresy and you can expect the Witch Hunters at your door. But let me tell you that it is very real, for I have seen it with my own eyes. I’ll never forget the faces etched onto those cold stone statues… You stay in there too long, and the very Gods of Chaos themselves will come down and claim your soul!” ~~ Last words of Almec the Insane, the night the Witch Hunters dragged him, kicking and screaming, from his residence. The Circle of Dargeth is an enigma. It has baffled the few within our Glorious Empire that are aware of it’s existence, including myself. There is even a limited knowledge on what the thing actually is! The generally accepted theory amongst my peers and I, is that it is a ‘reservoir’ of souls. Why it is there, my peers and I are still unsure of, but we do know that it is a foul place of Ruinous Sorcery, and no-one returns from it’s walls unchanged. Contrary to it’s name, the Circle is not just a simple round shape. It is made up of a series of thousands of overlapping circles, forming elaborate patterns. Due to it’s Ruinous nature, I firmly believe that these shapes constantly change. The quote above is from one of the two men ever known to have laid eyes upon the circle. However, I retrieved this from a somewhat unreliable source. It came from a witness report taken around twenty years ago, and so could have been altered, but key elements may still remain here. The “statues” that are described correspond with the second encounter. The second encounter was made by a close friend of mine, the ever resourceful Menheer Grendle. However, the experience has changed him and has been the end of him since. How he ever escaped from that cursed place in his condition escapes me. He appeared in a remote town somewhere, wearing nought but his undergarments with just his notes and his walking staff. His hired guard were nowhere to be found. From his notes, I found several thumbnail sketches, hastily drawn, depicting several disturbing men’s faces. Grendel’s reliability never failed to amaze me, as scrawled next the sketches were rough notes. Notes indicating that these men were in fact statues. I have enclosed one such sketch below.
According to Grendel’s notes, the place was lined with hundreds upon hundreds of these statues. The statues perhaps acted as the walls for this cursed place? This is where I drew the conclusion the this place was a ‘reservoir’ for souls. The statues are a replica of the souls former mortal shells. The souls are trapped within the statues, and the statue shows what the souls former bodies looked like. Why this happened, I am not entirely certain, but I shall attempt to explain my theory later in my studies.
It is said that the Circle got it’s name from the Champion who created it. Dargeth was said to be a Champion of Tzeentch. Here follows an excerpt from the heretical text “Shadows of the Khaos Moon”
“And so Dargeth gazed over his Warhost, from atop his daemon imbued Disc. Dargeth was of striking appearance. His armour shone like cold moonlight. It was trimmed with an engraved pattern of intertwined snakes. The mark of the Changer of Ways was repeated in a pattern over his armour and garments over and over again, but in slightly different forms and colours, sometimes standing alone like a bold flame, sometimes intertwining with the next. It burned the eye and confused the mind. His helm bore two pairs of horns. One pair curved down like a ram’s, while the other was straight and long like a gazelle’s. Although his helm covered his entire face, through the narrow eye slits could be seen two sapphire flames.
An aura of ever changing colour and magical energy clung to the warhost like a rainbow of power. His mortal warriors remained perfectly still, each one vastly contrasting with the next, be it in shape, colour or size. A vast contrast to the daemonkin that accompanied them. Their forms shimmered and twisted with a malevolent, yet enthralling grace. Flame spewed from their dripping maws, only to be replaced by a plume of smoke that crackled and snaked it’s way through the air, changing colour all the time. The sight pleased Dargeth. The sight of change. Opposite the warhost of Tchar, stood a blood crazed horde dedicated to Kharneth. Bellowed insults rang across the field.
“Cowards!”
“Your heads shall swing nicely from my belt!”
Their banners dripped with blood from the flayed skins that decorated them. Half rotten heads hanging from them swayed in the magical winds emanating from the Tcharian warhost. Their mortal warriors bellowed and roared their praise to the blood god, praying for a decent intake of skulls for the day. Clad in scraps of bronze armour, layered with congealed blood and ichor, the Mortal warriors of Kharneth truly know no fear. The daemon Bloodletters were similar, roaring with inhuman anger and violence. The leader of this horde sat atop a Juggernaught of Kharneth. The sound of it’s heavy gears mingled with the sound of it’ blasts of hot breath. The quiet hiss of the liquid fire running through it’s metallic veins added to the Symphony of Carnage. Heavily encased in bulging crimson armour, the great Warrior Lord egged his troops on, his words driving them into an even deeper frenzy. He swung his axe over his head, and the imprisoned daemon within howled in insane anger, reassuring the warriors that their god was indeed with them.
Finally after much shouting and insulting, the bloodied horde began it’s charge. They ran at frightening speed towards the Tchar warhost, who remained perfectly still. Dargeth allowed himself a smile. These followers of Kharneth were so predictable. Eventually the warhost were twenty feet away from them. Time to enact the plan.
A single pulse of command echoed through the air. In perfect unison , the mortal followers drew their weapons and prepared for the charge. The Daemonkin vibrated with joy as the horde neared, eager to taste their souls. And so came the climax of the battle, when the two warhosts met. With the leader at the head of the horde, he smashed into the front of the force. Of course he was in too much of a frenzy to notice that he simply passed right through them. Likewise with the rest of the horde. From behind the magical field, Dargeth’s armour shook with silent laughter. He used his power of sorcery to project an image of his army in a different location, while concealing their true location with a magical field. They were located at the army’s flank. Normally he would have let loose a torrent of hellfire on the bloody horde by now, but it was just too amusing to watch them cut through each other to get at the imaginary army. He allowed himself a few seconds to watch this wonderful sight, then finally gave the command to engage.
They marched in perfect unison. Swords drawn in exactly the same way. They each fired a magical blast into the horde at the exact same time and as they entered the fray, made the exact same sword motion.
Screamers materialised above the battle, catching the unfortunate souls that escaped, and devouring them. The swooped down occasionally, to hack at the blood crazed warriors with their tusks before retreating to the air again.
Dargeth fired a bolt of electricity at the Kharnate leader, causing him to fall off of his steed. He fired a second bolt at the steed itself which pierced it’s metallic hide. It faltered then crashed to the floor, causing liquid fire to spray everywhere.
Finally, all of the horde had been decimated except for the leader, who stubbornly held his ground. A circle had formed around him where he fought viciously against the silent army. Dargeth hovered over on his disc. Instantly, the champion saw him and stopped fighting. All hope had drained from him, and he could feel his God’s abandonment. Dargeth watched as the fighting spirit left him. His eyes that were once lit up with a fiery rage now were dull and colourless. The last thing the warrior saw was the gaping maw of a Daemon of Tchar coming to claim his very soul.
Once again, Dargeth’s warhost won the battle with minimal losses.”
As you can see, this battle was hugely successful. The battle had been won and Dargeth obviously basked in Tzeentch’s favour. I find it hard to imagine why any man, if Dargeth can still be considered human, would stray from Sigmar’s grace, but let us not dwell on such injustices.
Now this excerpt contains the exact conditions that match the information that the Scholars of our great Empire have pieced together over the years concerning the Circle. Fables telling of ancient warriors mysteriously disappearing are linked to the circle, and so it is my belief that the Gods of the Ruinous Powers use this place to “store” their Champions which have deemed themselves worthy pawns, but do not play a role in their schemes at this moment. Unfortunately there is no solid information regarding the actual creation of the Circle, just that it was “forged with Dargeth’s soul as the anvil, and the hand of Tzeen’neth as the hammer”.
Now, as Grendel’s notes suggest, the Circle could be under a protective ward similar to the Silver Towers of the vile Sorcerer Lord, Egrimm van Horstmann. Unfortunately, Grendel did not write down how he actually gained access to the circle, or even it’s location. Perhaps he was too excited with his discovery? Or perhaps he was driven to insanity? He described the skies as constantly changing. Cloud formations whirled into impossible shapes, and colour of the sky bled through the colours of the rainbow. The sun, one minute appearing as a radiant beacon, the next appearing as an ugly malign ulcer. The impossible labyrinth that is the circle seemed stable, but each time he awoke, the paths had changed, the statues glaring malevolently down at him almost daring him to find a way out (“And the terrible statues, they are cold! Colder than the essence of winter itself, yet they are somehow alive within my mind with the burning essence of a roaring inferno!”).
Several poems have been found in dusty tomes over the years regarding the circle. They mostly contradict each other, but I have included one such poem in these studies. Note, this is no more than insane ramblings by a delusional cultist, self proclaimed as a great prophet.
“And when the End Times come,
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the Shadow reaches,
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the tide bursts free,
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the World crumbles
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the Civilisations crumble
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the Harvest begins
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
Allthatisleftshallberightandallthatisrightshallbeleft”
I must take this chance to comment on this poem - What terrible taste the Ruinous Powers have. However, no clue relating to the Circle can be found within the poem, but rather within the author. The insane one knows as Rek’lats has known ties to the circle, and his patron deity is the Changer of Ways. Dargeth was a follower of the Changer of Ways. The Circle was said to be forged by the “Hand of Tzeen’neth”, Tzeen’neth being a moniker of the Changer of Ways. Feathers and Scales is a known rambling of shrieking cultists loyal to the changer of Ways.
Now it becomes rather clearer to me. Tzeentch, the Lord of Sorcery, Change and Scheming, is behind the creation of this Circle. While his Brother Gods are said to bicker and plot against one another, Tzeentch thinks of the long term. The Circle of Dargeth could simply be a backup supply of hardened warriors ready to be released upon the good peoples of our Glorious Empire. Perhaps the Circle of Dargeth is part of a complex system of several Circles? Suppose we are just scratching the surface here?
I tire of my studies for now, as such work is a heavy burden on my soul. The months of poring over ancient and corrupt manuscripts has taken it’s toll on me and I fear for my sanity if I do not rest. I fear the only thing I have accomplished in this study is to simply wonder out loud. Based on the current evidence I have gathered, anything could be possible of this mysterious and sinister Circle. Whether I like it or not, this place has become a part of me, and I cannot stop searching until I have found it. Rest assured that once I have fully rested, I shall resume my search, and even take up my sword to go off in search of this puzzle if that is what is needed.
Regards,
Jonas Penhan
The Circle of Dargeth This is the description of a place that I may use in some of my Characters backgrounds. Anyone feel free to use this in an RP, or whatever else. ************************************************************************************** “The Circle of Dargeth is a place known only by the dustiest of Scholars, and even then their knowledge of it is limited. It is generally regarded as a myth. Any discussion of this place is considered a heresy and you can expect the Witch Hunters at your door. But let me tell you that it is very real, for I have seen it with my own eyes. I’ll never forget the faces etched onto those cold stone statues… You stay in there too long, and the very Gods of Chaos themselves will come down and claim your soul!” ~~ Last words of Almec the Insane, the night the Witch Hunters dragged him, kicking and screaming, from his residence. The Circle of Dargeth is an enigma. It has baffled the few within our Glorious Empire that are aware of it’s existence, including myself. There is even a limited knowledge on what the thing actually is! The generally accepted theory amongst my peers and I, is that it is a ‘reservoir’ of souls. Why it is there, my peers and I are still unsure of, but we do know that it is a foul place of Ruinous Sorcery, and no-one returns from it’s walls unchanged. Contrary to it’s name, the Circle is not just a simple round shape. It is made up of a series of thousands of overlapping circles, forming elaborate patterns. Due to it’s Ruinous nature, I firmly believe that these shapes constantly change. The quote above is from one of the two men ever known to have laid eyes upon the circle. However, I retrieved this from a somewhat unreliable source. It came from a witness report taken around twenty years ago, and so could have been altered, but key elements may still remain here. The “statues” that are described correspond with the second encounter. The second encounter was made by a close friend of mine, the ever resourceful Menheer Grendle. However, the experience has changed him and has been the end of him since. How he ever escaped from that cursed place in his condition escapes me. He appeared in a remote town somewhere, wearing nought but his undergarments with just his notes and his walking staff. His hired guard were nowhere to be found. From his notes, I found several thumbnail sketches, hastily drawn, depicting several disturbing men’s faces. Grendel’s reliability never failed to amaze me, as scrawled next the sketches were rough notes. Notes indicating that these men were in fact statues. I have enclosed one such sketch below.
According to Grendel’s notes, the place was lined with hundreds upon hundreds of these statues. The statues perhaps acted as the walls for this cursed place? This is where I drew the conclusion the this place was a ‘reservoir’ for souls. The statues are a replica of the souls former mortal shells. The souls are trapped within the statues, and the statue shows what the souls former bodies looked like. Why this happened, I am not entirely certain, but I shall attempt to explain my theory later in my studies.
It is said that the Circle got it’s name from the Champion who created it. Dargeth was said to be a Champion of Tzeentch. Here follows an excerpt from the heretical text “Shadows of the Khaos Moon”
“And so Dargeth gazed over his Warhost, from atop his daemon imbued Disc. Dargeth was of striking appearance. His armour shone like cold moonlight. It was trimmed with an engraved pattern of intertwined snakes. The mark of the Changer of Ways was repeated in a pattern over his armour and garments over and over again, but in slightly different forms and colours, sometimes standing alone like a bold flame, sometimes intertwining with the next. It burned the eye and confused the mind. His helm bore two pairs of horns. One pair curved down like a ram’s, while the other was straight and long like a gazelle’s. Although his helm covered his entire face, through the narrow eye slits could be seen two sapphire flames.
An aura of ever changing colour and magical energy clung to the warhost like a rainbow of power. His mortal warriors remained perfectly still, each one vastly contrasting with the next, be it in shape, colour or size. A vast contrast to the daemonkin that accompanied them. Their forms shimmered and twisted with a malevolent, yet enthralling grace. Flame spewed from their dripping maws, only to be replaced by a plume of smoke that crackled and snaked it’s way through the air, changing colour all the time. The sight pleased Dargeth. The sight of change. Opposite the warhost of Tchar, stood a blood crazed horde dedicated to Kharneth. Bellowed insults rang across the field.
“Cowards!”
“Your heads shall swing nicely from my belt!”
Their banners dripped with blood from the flayed skins that decorated them. Half rotten heads hanging from them swayed in the magical winds emanating from the Tcharian warhost. Their mortal warriors bellowed and roared their praise to the blood god, praying for a decent intake of skulls for the day. Clad in scraps of bronze armour, layered with congealed blood and ichor, the Mortal warriors of Kharneth truly know no fear. The daemon Bloodletters were similar, roaring with inhuman anger and violence. The leader of this horde sat atop a Juggernaught of Kharneth. The sound of it’s heavy gears mingled with the sound of it’ blasts of hot breath. The quiet hiss of the liquid fire running through it’s metallic veins added to the Symphony of Carnage. Heavily encased in bulging crimson armour, the great Warrior Lord egged his troops on, his words driving them into an even deeper frenzy. He swung his axe over his head, and the imprisoned daemon within howled in insane anger, reassuring the warriors that their god was indeed with them.
Finally after much shouting and insulting, the bloodied horde began it’s charge. They ran at frightening speed towards the Tchar warhost, who remained perfectly still. Dargeth allowed himself a smile. These followers of Kharneth were so predictable. Eventually the warhost were twenty feet away from them. Time to enact the plan.
A single pulse of command echoed through the air. In perfect unison , the mortal followers drew their weapons and prepared for the charge. The Daemonkin vibrated with joy as the horde neared, eager to taste their souls. And so came the climax of the battle, when the two warhosts met. With the leader at the head of the horde, he smashed into the front of the force. Of course he was in too much of a frenzy to notice that he simply passed right through them. Likewise with the rest of the horde. From behind the magical field, Dargeth’s armour shook with silent laughter. He used his power of sorcery to project an image of his army in a different location, while concealing their true location with a magical field. They were located at the army’s flank. Normally he would have let loose a torrent of hellfire on the bloody horde by now, but it was just too amusing to watch them cut through each other to get at the imaginary army. He allowed himself a few seconds to watch this wonderful sight, then finally gave the command to engage.
They marched in perfect unison. Swords drawn in exactly the same way. They each fired a magical blast into the horde at the exact same time and as they entered the fray, made the exact same sword motion.
Screamers materialised above the battle, catching the unfortunate souls that escaped, and devouring them. The swooped down occasionally, to hack at the blood crazed warriors with their tusks before retreating to the air again.
Dargeth fired a bolt of electricity at the Kharnate leader, causing him to fall off of his steed. He fired a second bolt at the steed itself which pierced it’s metallic hide. It faltered then crashed to the floor, causing liquid fire to spray everywhere.
Finally, all of the horde had been decimated except for the leader, who stubbornly held his ground. A circle had formed around him where he fought viciously against the silent army. Dargeth hovered over on his disc. Instantly, the champion saw him and stopped fighting. All hope had drained from him, and he could feel his God’s abandonment. Dargeth watched as the fighting spirit left him. His eyes that were once lit up with a fiery rage now were dull and colourless. The last thing the warrior saw was the gaping maw of a Daemon of Tchar coming to claim his very soul.
Once again, Dargeth’s warhost won the battle with minimal losses.”
As you can see, this battle was hugely successful. The battle had been won and Dargeth obviously basked in Tzeentch’s favour. I find it hard to imagine why any man, if Dargeth can still be considered human, would stray from Sigmar’s grace, but let us not dwell on such injustices.
Now this excerpt contains the exact conditions that match the information that the Scholars of our great Empire have pieced together over the years concerning the Circle. Fables telling of ancient warriors mysteriously disappearing are linked to the circle, and so it is my belief that the Gods of the Ruinous Powers use this place to “store” their Champions which have deemed themselves worthy pawns, but do not play a role in their schemes at this moment. Unfortunately there is no solid information regarding the actual creation of the Circle, just that it was “forged with Dargeth’s soul as the anvil, and the hand of Tzeen’neth as the hammer”.
Now, as Grendel’s notes suggest, the Circle could be under a protective ward similar to the Silver Towers of the vile Sorcerer Lord, Egrimm van Horstmann. Unfortunately, Grendel did not write down how he actually gained access to the circle, or even it’s location. Perhaps he was too excited with his discovery? Or perhaps he was driven to insanity? He described the skies as constantly changing. Cloud formations whirled into impossible shapes, and colour of the sky bled through the colours of the rainbow. The sun, one minute appearing as a radiant beacon, the next appearing as an ugly malign ulcer. The impossible labyrinth that is the circle seemed stable, but each time he awoke, the paths had changed, the statues glaring malevolently down at him almost daring him to find a way out (“And the terrible statues, they are cold! Colder than the essence of winter itself, yet they are somehow alive within my mind with the burning essence of a roaring inferno!”).
Several poems have been found in dusty tomes over the years regarding the circle. They mostly contradict each other, but I have included one such poem in these studies. Note, this is no more than insane ramblings by a delusional cultist, self proclaimed as a great prophet.
“And when the End Times come,
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the Shadow reaches,
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the tide bursts free,
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the World crumbles
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the Civilisations crumble
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
And when the Harvest begins
Feathersandscalesfeathersandscales
Allthatisleftshallberightandallthatisrightshallbeleft”
I must take this chance to comment on this poem - What terrible taste the Ruinous Powers have. However, no clue relating to the Circle can be found within the poem, but rather within the author. The insane one knows as Rek’lats has known ties to the circle, and his patron deity is the Changer of Ways. Dargeth was a follower of the Changer of Ways. The Circle was said to be forged by the “Hand of Tzeen’neth”, Tzeen’neth being a moniker of the Changer of Ways. Feathers and Scales is a known rambling of shrieking cultists loyal to the changer of Ways.
Now it becomes rather clearer to me. Tzeentch, the Lord of Sorcery, Change and Scheming, is behind the creation of this Circle. While his Brother Gods are said to bicker and plot against one another, Tzeentch thinks of the long term. The Circle of Dargeth could simply be a backup supply of hardened warriors ready to be released upon the good peoples of our Glorious Empire. Perhaps the Circle of Dargeth is part of a complex system of several Circles? Suppose we are just scratching the surface here?
I tire of my studies for now, as such work is a heavy burden on my soul. The months of poring over ancient and corrupt manuscripts has taken it’s toll on me and I fear for my sanity if I do not rest. I fear the only thing I have accomplished in this study is to simply wonder out loud. Based on the current evidence I have gathered, anything could be possible of this mysterious and sinister Circle. Whether I like it or not, this place has become a part of me, and I cannot stop searching until I have found it. Rest assured that once I have fully rested, I shall resume my search, and even take up my sword to go off in search of this puzzle if that is what is needed.
Regards,
Jonas Penhan