Part 1: Eldanesh beginnings - A Warhammer fantasy Chaos Story

Story about three champions of Slaanesh, brothers in fact. Four parts are written and if anybody like this installment, please comment and I will post the second etc. If not constructive criticism is always welcome. I would like to add, I have written legal rules for each of the brothers to be fielded in you games and pics of each can be supplied on request.
Thanks and enjoy.
MOD: Eldanesh is thr surname of the three brothers
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Eldanesh! Eldanesh! Eldanesh!” The chanting continued for many hours after the successful battle. The three fearsome warriors stood on the bank of a beautiful lake, wearing similar eldritch armour bearing marks of Slaanesh on each plate. Three men of similar height, two wore armour dark in colour with hints of purple, and the other wearing armour of blinding silver in the sunlight. The man in the centre of the three bore a banner impaled into his shoulder but suffered not, it seemed a comfort to him, his left hand wrapped in a seething metal chain that dangled from his hand seemingly used as a whip. He was the largest in stature, showing bulging muscles across his bare chest and back, the blood of the banner injury long since cleaned up from the creases between his muscular frame. With hair tied in an impressive topknot his handsome face was clearly visible staring out across the impressive scenery of the northern parts of the Empire.   

“Dad I can’t do it! I don’t want to!” screamed the boy, flailing a metal chain from his left hand aiming at the targets put up.
“Did I raise you to give up? You will fight with grace…” the man’s astoundingly beautiful features had been genetically passed on to his son also. “You will be the strongest and lead them.” His voice silky and smooth, calming with a hint of hidden ferocity had the power to convince anybody what he asked of them was right.
“I’ll learn for you.”

The figure lost in thought of hours spent training for large battles, the second man, in bright silver armour rested his long spear on the ground and looked properly over the beautiful landscape that lay before them. A helmet on his head supported a flamboyant display of pink hair from a rising curve from the back of his head whilst his left hand held a circular shield of a similar metal to that of his armour. A slender stature was apparent even through his armour, a stature hiding strengths unknown to mortals who knew not of the power held by chaos. Symbols adorned his armour showing favour to the Dark Prince, of whom he had learnt from his father.

“Speed shall be your strength, son. The Dark Prince will bear you to battle at your brothers’ side; you must hold all flanks and meet the main bulk. Can you do it?” The familiar silky and smooth tones of the man’s voice equally convincing this child of his destiny.
“I don’t know…” the boy stared at his father in uncertainty.
“Shornaal will guide you through it all…”

The youngest of the three warriors stood to the left of the central figure, a dark shield held in his left hand, and a great axe covered in blood gripped tightly in his right, though no blood dripped from the blade, only drifted over it held by unknown magical energies. His armour similar to the armour of the figure on the right, with magical symbols and gems adorning every spare point, though this armour was dark and showed the desires of all who dared look at it. His head helmeted in a slender helm showing no flesh or hair, he seemed enclosed, almost lonely.

“But I don’t want it! I can’t use it! I won’t!” the youngest boy had yelled loudest in immaturity. What he had seen in the axe had appeared only for a second.
“You must. It is the will of our Lord.” Strangely familiar silky tones drifted across his memory. “Lucius bears the Whip and sword, Seldan bears the steed and crown, and you Asalan, will bear the axe and shield.”
“For you…”
“No, for Shornaal”

The three brothers stood still once more, each having been granted part of their memory of their father back to them for having found such a place of beauty. Each knew their quest was to conquer all in the name of Shornaal, for that was what they had been taught. But not one of them could picture the man who had trained them, or remember any details about him or his deeds for any length of time. Often one would be able to recall moments, or parts of conversation, but as suddenly as they appeared, they would be gone.
“This is a beautiful place” the central figure, Lucius, spoke.
“Worthy of him” answered Seldan in a luxurious tone.
“Come brothers. Our followers await our presence at the feast. Our battle was easily won. The Orcs weak and the spoils were many. Let us celebrate and continue our search for him tomorrow.” Lucius turned from the lake and walked towards the encampment after finishing his words.
“Coming?” asked Seldan to his younger brother “We will sacrifice well tonight…”
“In a minute” answered Asalan, and his middle brother also turned and rejoined the war host in their celebratory feast. He looked out once more over the beauty of the land.
“I will find you father.” His voice low and bitter, the words crackled at his mention “They wish to join you. I will find out why you did what you did”
With this, the youngest and last of the three brothers turned back to the great horde of brawling drunken warriors.

Wait. I'm confused. Is this a Fantasy story or a 40K story? Lucius and Eldanesh are both characters of 40K, but you mention the Empire in your story.

I suppose I'm confused. Why are followers of Slaanesh chanting the name of an Eldararian ancient hero? (The reason Khaine bleeds from his hand.)

Apologies, I will clarify.

This is set in the Fantasy World
Eldanesh is the surname of Lucius and his brothers (should clarify the Lucius in 40k problem also)
The Eldanarian god I do not see as a problem, not many people will recognise that at all, and they were also brought up by Norsemen who pic random god names anyway!

Thanks for comments, I will make this clearer in the original post
Steff

Good story then. Post part two!