IskatuMesk
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Throne of Armageddon. | Quote: | | Auumar nodded, and lied back in his bed. He closed his eyes, though he would see no rest. He couldn't dare rest. Not out here. Sennmus might not be actively searching him out, but the Priest held no remorse for striking him when he least expected it. Auumar always had to be on his guard. I can see why he pities us so. Auumar thought to himself. He who can never rest... not in a thousand ages. That is his great burden. A ceaseless war of absolute silence that none may ever understand but he. |
Gal`Sennmus is different from the rest of the demons in TOA for several key reasons. The biggest being that most of the demons are completely insane, driven to the limits of what can be called a mind by the powers that comprise them. The second is that the way he deals with enemies is also different. He has a great strength behind his curtain of darkness, but he seldomly shows it, even though this nature defies what the definition of "Demon" is in TOA.
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Gal`Sennmus had only heard rumours of its existence. A structure, that which the Undead scarcely defended at the very limits of their knowledge, comprised entirely of indestructible crystal matter, encompassed the entirety of his mind's eye. This was where he had tracked the regenade Templar. This was his goal. But, for what reason?
What Sennmus knew of the crystal temple, a monument among many others in the region, was that it was a gateway of some form. A gateway the Undead could not activate, and certainly could not figure out the use for. Because of this, only a few ships patrolled the region. Attempts to even enter the structure were impossible, for massive doors surrounded in runes of the Old Tongue prevented entrence to the dome-like construct.
As Sennmus drew closer to the region, his contact with the Great Undying was completely blanked out. He had left the region of Guola's mental influence, and its thoughts left his. Therefore, he was unable to decipher the locations of the patrol ships that wandered the region. Ships that had remained out in this area for many thousands of years. He wondered if they existed at all anymore.
Without the ability to call information from the Great Undying, Gal`Sennmus was alone in attempting to translate the massive runic gate's scribings, itself almost as large as an average monument, and easily viewable from other sectors.
The tongue of the First Ones was not one known to simple soldiers. Its vast complexity prevented all but the most withstanding of minds to comprehend the intricacies that the patterns provided. Each symbol, no fewer than two hundred, was capable of holding a library of knowledge that may take a scholar thousands of years to unravel. Sennmus, however, was as timeless as time itself. While others of his kind spent their existence ravaging all they could, the priests of the Great Undying were often devoted to consuming knowledge in all its infinite diversities.
Even then, Sennmus' knowledge of the Old Tongue was certainly not as vast as that an Elder God may have. It held an odd occurence to him that he realized the Great Undying had kept much of its knowledge of the old race foreign to its minions. Perhaps it already knew what these particular scribings said, and avoided the crystal temple for this reason. This could mean many things. None of the possibilities particularily worried the demon. It was what the renegade Zegredark might intend to do with the facility that bothered him.
As Sennmus drew even closer and prepared his mind for the task of hunting down the location of the Zegredark, his sensors came across smaller objects. Closer inspection revealed the objects to be in fact remainments of Undead ships, long destroyed to their finest elemental components. Their energy signatures indicated that they likely for some reason fired upon themselves. Perhaps leaving Guola's influence wasn't as healthy to the mind as the priest first percieved, but he had no intentions of turning back. |
Currently, Sennmus is one of several key Undead characters revealed in the first segment. I'll give you writeouts for some others shortly.
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Fist of the Great Death
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They now had re-awoken powers that could at will destroy much of Creation if it was their lord's will. Yet, Creation was never to be destroyed. Ascherzon had never desired the sanctuary to be brought to ruin. Major Su`Lu`Chun`Kau, or Fist of the Great Death in his tongue, never understood why the Elder God ran and hid in his mistake of all things. Perhaps it was the unpredictability, or perhaps it was because the powers of the Abyss worked different in reality than in their native realms. He was crafty, Major Pain gave him that. But he was weak. These creatures were weak. They would all embrace the One Faith or embrace their destruction.
"I give you this one opportunity," Major Pain began, standing casually, as if this was a gathering of family. "to bow to the Great Undying and pledge your souls to oblivion." He watched as the two warriors exchanged disbelieving glances, then look back at him with feigned humility.
"You choose destruction, then." Major Pain said in almost a whisper.
Their artificial state made them more worthy opponents, but they were still too slow. Too weak. Too impure. Five seconds of material time had passed until he downed both the brute and the savage. Only the mystic remained. She was smarter than the others, he thought. She was careful. Tactful. She realized she was completely outmatched, and instead tried to wear him down. Only, the dead could never wear down. Major Pain was empowered by the Great Undying itself. He could never fall.
Mauu was running out of options. The demon was simply too fast. Too strong. Krottar had been too predictable, lunging almost immediately with his axes in hand, only to recieve a deadly overpower attack that left his body in a glassed valley somewhere behind her. Na`Kull had come from behind, but he, too, was too slow and surprisingly weak to the demon. It had turned to face him, then pummeled him with an unseen force and threw him to somewhere on the other side of the planet.
She had only evaded his attacks by using her superior psionic abilities to constantly remain in a half-phased state, every now and then taking shots with her mental attacks at his form, but never being able to pierce his incredible mental structure. He was slowing her down, now. Somehow, his mental powers were grabbing ahold of her eminations. Her phases lengthened and became painfully difficult to control. Inevitably it was slow enough for him to finally land a mental attack of his own.
The Demon's power was incredible. As soon as he had finally made his move, the ground split beneath Mauu and an invisible shockwave threw her deep into the earth, creating a flash force of friction that turned the surface into molten glass. It was over. |
And...
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To Major Pain, the passage of time was unimportant. He could busy his mind while hours, even days, passed before him. When he was to later rise from his meditation, a restless attempt foiled by constant curiosity regarding the only clue they recovered from the battlefield, he had been informed a mere four days had passed since their attempt to circumvent Zegredark control over their material region. Although, Major Pain was later to be informed that the entire Zegredark race, or at least what was once a race, had been in fact aboard one of the contacts they traced into the Abyss.
This put pressure on the demon captain. He contemplated returning to the Great Undying, to recieve the blessing of Guola, but realized that if he wasted too much more time they might lose sight of their opportunity to remove one more enemy from their ranks. He made a mental notion, and his three demon servants appeared before him once more, in much the same fashion they always had done so.
This time around, the bridge was completely unlit. The stars of physical space no longer dotted the oil-like materials of his construct. Yet, he only needed to know that his prophets were present in his mind to begin his instructions. He made a mental map of the current positions of Undead forces in known space, and made a calculated estimation of where their two quarries might be. Small corrections were made to their mental image by the lesser demons, inputting updated data from the Great Undying, and observations by neighboring Undead. Thoughts, words, sounds flooded their minds. This link needed to last but mere seconds for them to forge a formidable strategy.
Major Pain later reviewed this plan again and again with his loyal minions. They decided that the smaller foreign ship was not worth tracking down, as it had already passed their detectible regions. Major Pain would leave that target to Priest Gal`Sennmus. Instead, he focused his attention to the larger, more dangerous vessel. The memories of the demons that were tasked to destroy the ship before it could escape almost frightened Major Pain. He knew exactly who commanded this vessel. The Elder God's chosen, although it seemed they were no longer in favour of their master. That made matters easier, Fist of the Great Death thought. He considered summoning Zunn the Dark Shadow, but remembered only to call upon the dark serpent if matters got urgent. Zunn did not take being summoned lightly. Besides, that would take the fun out of the hunt.
Major Pain compiled a list of capabilities in his mind, estimations given to him by those who had faced the Lordship in combat and were defeated. He had no intentions of letting their next battle end so well for his rival. He compared the alien ship to his own, and made the calculations that if they were to confront each other, he would win. He stopped in his thoughts, though, recalling that the Templar's leader was unpredictable, cunning, and above all, exceptionally resourceful. He evened the stakes, if anything. This pleased Major Pain. He enjoyed the challenge. The demon lord instructed his servants to begin persuing the enemy vessel immediately, then returned to studying the mysterious scarab. |
Next up is Lord Baletongue
| Quote: | Lord Baletongue. A century ago, he had lead the finest fleet his civilization had known. "The Anahn Empire", words he spat with hatred, now. Those were who he had once served. However, his entire fleet had been destroyed by a super nova, which his own ex-government had orchestrated to purge an entire star system of life, simply because they would not adhere to the new revolutions. Now he, and everyone he knew, served the only true destiny. A destiny he had been blind to for all his living years. He was only thankful that in his dying moments his God had the mercy to show him the true path of his race. The living Anahn were forever the Fallen, wicked heretics who refused to bow to their creators. They defied their destiny. Fools.
His God had given him a new fleet to command. Immortal soldiers. His first mission had been a mission of great importance. He had been intrusted with servicing his fleet on the fringe of Undead space, to thwart an invasion from another demon fleet, one that they knew little about. It was an honor to face the greatest enemy they knew, to boldly challenge the evils of the outside world. On his route to his position, however, he had been given new orders. There were suspiciouns of a possible DyiithJhinn base on a structure that had recently seen combat from outsiders. The security of this structure was critical to their operations in this sector. Baletongue was to make sure it was kept secure.
Baletongue was a hard-ass captain. He still retained the memories of himself when was still flesh and bone. He could recall beating, even publically executing many Anahn because they did not fullfill orders to the letter. The Anahn was a brutal dictation-driven race that had expanded too fast during its more industrius of years, encompassing many star systems. This led to the government being too weak to control the gradually fragmenting factions. Chaos ensued. Warlords rose to control the individual sectors, and hundreds of years of civil war engulfed their worlds. Baletongue was one of these warlords.
When the civil wars had began to die down, and a single, large power began to form, the region Baletongue's fleet inhabited began to seperate itself from the global conflict. During this period they became completely isolated from the new communism. Like his fellow warriors, Baletongue had no intention of bowing to another government. Then, they were destroyed by this power in a single, devastating blow. Baletongue had no doubt all of the Anahn were controlled by this new Royal Family, as they called themselves, now. His lifelong dream was to return to Anahn space and force them all to recognize their true masters.
Yet, this would have to wait. He set aside his zealotry and forced himself to think like a warlord. Baletongue was well-known for using far more force than necessary to complete his objectives. However, as it goes hand-in-hand with his methods, he was extremely successful. His soldiers were of inpeccable discipline. Those that slacked ended up dead, either by enemy hands or by his own. The Great Undying had granted him superior technology. He very well considered his fleet, the Eldritch Ravens, one of the greatest fighting forces in all time.
As Baletongue's fleet of some several thousand heavily-armed battleships approached the new target. It was soon confirmed that the mechanized demon army of the Machinedra legion were massing for an offensive close enough to the monument to present a troublesome possibility. Baletongue felt excitement, but he knew well that arrogance was a man's greatest downfall. He was alone out here, now, and if he made a mistake, the Undead would pay dearly.
Baletongue was not known for making mistakes. He organized his forces carefully, and moved into position. He would serve his God the way he was born to. In battle, and in faith. He would let no demon, no foreigner, no outsider ever tresspass their sacred lands without punishment. |
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SorceressAshura
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Now that I've read more about characters of your story.. I can piece together in my head the world your coming from. As Nathraiben mentioned, its a start of an epic tale that shows different points of view from various characters. All building up to a moment where those gates open and hells of war sprawl into a battle of ages. I look forward to reading more, and to revealing the true natures of each character. Please continue.
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IskatuMesk
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By the way, if you want to use any of these characters in the PW or single player module, in altered forms or whatnot, do say...
Here's some more stuff. Not necessarily restricted to the Undead, anymore.
Mal`Ash
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He had lied to them. He had lied to them all. To protect them? Partly, but mostly to simply save them. Asmeirlous had learned more of his deity, his creator, in the past few moments than he had ever known previously. These secrets... these terrible secrets. He knew them all. Well, maybe not all of them. There was one still left to know. He had considered telling the Galorians what he knew, but he had no time.
Galor was not what they believed it to be. Since the dawn of their birth, the Galorians had prayed to the essence of Galor, a spirit of a man that appeared as a yellow orb, deep within an ancient temple – the very walls they first awoke to. Yet, all this time, Galor had hid from them the truth. Perhaps not by will, but Asmeirlous didn't know that for sure. What he knew now was that Galor had awoke, and the secrets he had held for so long were no longer secrets.
Asmeirlous knew who DyiithJhinn was, what he was. He was a byproduct. A mistake. The secrets DyiithJhinn knew were the secrets of Galor's power. Power he had wanted for himself, while Galor was still "dormant". DyiithJhinn had wanted to rewrite the Galorians in the way of the First Order, the Order of the Demon. An order of absolute purity in war and inner power. DyiithJhinn did not value family or emotions, only his strength over others. As it turned out, Galor was the same.
Asmeirlous couldn't piece together how he and his kin had come to be. He didn't have time to tackle that mystery. He only knew now that the demon that walked towards him was not Galor, nor DyiithJhinn, but a power from the Abyss – one of the worlds the Gya had warned him of. The demon held two staff-like weapons – one adorned with an orb of absolute darkness, and one with three crimson blades of dark flame.
"The Keeper of Secrets has shared with you his wisdom." The Demon's whispy voice echoed across the ash-stone halls. Asmeirlous reached into his ceremonial armor for his combat glaive and longsword. He hadn't used them for years, but he was still the Galorian Elder. He would not go down without a fight.
"Within his wisdom you have learned the truth of you and yours... to that end, your purpose in these annuals has come to its conclusion."
Asmeirlous attacked. His Combat Glaive, forged by Mastersmith Anur, flickered to life, showering the ground around him with orange sparks. His sword gleamed in the light coming from behind Galor's servant. The demon merely rose his rod of darkness, and grappled Asmeirlous with an invisible grip. The demon cocked his head slightly to the left, as if in curiousity. Asmeirlous' weapons simply disintigrated from his failing hands. A wind swept around him as he rose in the air, following the movements of the staff.
"What you know as Galor..." the demon continued calmly as he turned Asmeirlous to face the light behind him. "is truly known as Mal`Ash, Keeper of the Cursed Souls!"
From the darkness came a shadow that eclipsed both figures. The head of a great dragon, but a dragon unlike those Asmeirlous had come to know. This one was coated in ruby-crystal scales, and in its eyes burned nothing but a light-consuming darkness. In contrast, its titanic carapace emitted a brilliant glow that illuminated the halls of Galor to the end of their reaches.
The glow was so intense, so hot, it seared Asmeirlous' flesh. Before the demon's grip could crush his spirit, the elder's flesh was stripped from his bones, the invisible flames of his unwilling father tearing through him. Asmeirlous was able to give one last prayer to his dearest family while he pressed against the surface of his signit ring with the fingers he had left in that hand, that they would be avoid this demon, and his efforts to slow it down... |
Some of the protagonists and events in the First Segment.
| Quote: | "I don't understand this thing." Nemesis was mumbling when ReKrain returned to the bridge.
"What?" ReKrain asked. Nemesis was hunched over the central console, a blurry three-dimensional display illuminating the Throne room from above him. The partly-functional psionic imaging system.
"Mauu's scanning system doesn't make any sense. It keeps giving off false contacts every now and then, contacts that have no real direction or purpose. It's confusing." the High Templar whined as the mass of symphonic white dots in a light-blue cloud fluttered with individual agendas.
"The mantis have been studying your cloaking sphere." ReKrain shrugged. "They can't really make much sense out of it. Since Ascherzon didn't leave behind anything about the First Ones or their languages, they were subjecting it to various types of energies in an attempt to spark some activity. Nothing is happening."
"There's something else, too." ReKrain added after a moment's thought.
"Our supplies." Nemesis added. ReKrain shook his head.
"No. We'll do... for now. What I am more worried about is those modifications he was making to the ship's drive systems."
"Figured something out?" Nemesis looked up, interested now. ReKrain paused.
"Well, I figured he was trying to make an Abyss-capable jump system. But, that didn't make sense – the Lordship could already produce enough power to do that. However..." ReKrain looked up, towards the imaging system.
"Nothing we have seen to date has been able to focus, let alone control the Spectral Matter. You tried to resonate with it on a psionic level, and the Undead used that opportunity to open a gateway to their domain. What prevented them from doing that elsewhere?"
"Maybe they didn't notice any of the other gateways." Nemesis shrugged.
"Exactly." ReKrain concluded. Nemesis gave him a confused look.
"It's not so much a new and efficient drive as it is a dampening device. It uses the Spectral Matter to accelerate the psionic energy, and not raw Proteus power from the ship's cores. The Spectral Matter must contain properties that allow it to absorb all stray cascades that come from the resonation. The Undead probably can't detect it at all."
Nemesis gave it some thought. It made sense. Typical Zegredark drives used Proteus to run an artificial psionic drive through an extensively power-consuming resonation process that alligned the Proteus energy with that of mental energy. It worked, but the ship's reactor was put through a lot of stress trying to control the process, and it often was impossible to do on smaller reactors altogether. A Spectral Matter-based drive system would explain how that phantom contact was able to avoid being found...
"I think we have another piece of the puzzle. Excellent work." Nemesis agreed. ReKrain beamed in pride.
"Unfortunately, that also puts us in a difficult situation. Ascherzon obviously intended to use this drive, and soon. If it is indeed a powerful dampening system, it would likely have been forged in an attempt to create a drive in which the Undead cannot track. That said, we used the original system." ReKrain glanced back at the holographic representation of local "space".
"Shit." Nemesis almost yelled as he rose up for yet another look. "Those probably are real, after all." |
| Quote: | Fist of the Great Death could see through his mind the quarry at long last. They had unwillingly been redirected into one of the Monuments the Undead controlled on the fringe of the Great Undying. The Slayer Squadron had formed up on their flank, and Pain's Iron Scarab had already entered weapons range.
Major Pain's aids hovered at his sides, wordless in their contempt for their enemy.
"The enemy vessel has activated its defensive countermeasures." one of the spirits noted. The others grunted in agreement.
"They are opening fire with Blood-Flame on our planetary systems. They will be ineffective in this encounter." one added.
"Now, we see who is the better of us once and for all." Major Pain said outloud to no one in particular. His bridge brightened as it took in the light of the monument, a ruined city amongst thousands. The enormous Lordship was still but an insect to this huge world, although the engagement could just as easily result in destruction of the structure. Major Pain did not care, though. The Undead had limitless others to spare.
The Iron Scarab was a classification of ship the Undead rarely deployed except in special circumstances. Its size and firepower were unmatched by anything Major Pain had allowed the Zegredark to face. It was almost twice as large as the Templar flagship, although how well it'd fair against the first and last of their machines was unknown. Appearing as a massive onyx beetle, riddled in shining horns and spires, the Iron Scarabs were just as imposing as their names hinted – indestructible fortresses.
The Iron Scarab's primary weapons were focused on Deimos, like all of the lighter Undead vessels, but Major Pain's ultimate weapon laid within the Scarab's reinforced energy armor. He applied more power to the psionic drives, and the Scarab accelerated further yet, the Lordship directly within its crosshairs...
"There's something huge coming at us!" ReKrain reported. Nemesis brought up a visual display of the incoming contact. He wasn't sure if he was looking at a part of the monument, or some abstract Undead abomination.
"What in the name of Fate..." Nemesis' scanning systems were going crazy. The vessel's energy armor was resonating at psionic levels, producing an aura of destruction that was rapidly expanding.
"Our shields won't be able to handle that kind of an impact." ReKrain noted as he struggled to direct firing solutions.
"We can't leave the monument. Our weapons won't function in the Abyss, while the Undead's probably do."
The Lordship rumbled violently. As it swayed, Nemesis felt a keen sense of vertigo from the Throne of Armageddon. The holographic display lit up to indicate several incoming Undead warships. Half of them vanished in seconds from the crippling onslaught Lordship's massive psionic impulse cannons, but the weapons were ineffective against the larger, primary target.
"What do you want to bet it's our old friend, eh?" Nemesis asked outloud. ReKrain laughed. It was good to hear him laugh.
"He's a persistant one, I'll give him that." The Slayer replied.
The Lordship rumbled again.
"More of them are coming. He's got an entire fleet with him." ReKrain reported as red dots flooded the display.
"Prepare our drives." Nemesis ordered. ReKrain looked up at him in disbelief.
"You want to transwarp... into material space... from here?"
"Yes... additionally, I want you to try to power the one Spectral drive that is almost complete."
"We have no idea what that will do!" ReKrain protested.
"Yes, and we have no idea how fast the Dunnmur will be on us once they find out we're within reach again. This is a dangerous game, one that we must take risks in. It's either try our luck with the drive system, or try our luck with Pain's brigade of reckless fanatics."
Major Pain was fascinated by the massive Zegredark machine as it cut down wave after wave of Etchellion Blade attack ships. These fleets were simply acting out of their own greed, their own bloodthirst. It annoyed Major Pain, as their vessels got in the line of fire of his Slayer Squadron. That didn't stop them from pulling the trigger, though.
In comparison to the Slayer Squadron's spiraling cathedral ships, the Lordship was an elongated black whale, of which any point or place could originate an extremely powerful psionic shockwave that ripped through conventional energy metal. Fist of the Great Death had planned for this, though. The Slayer Squadron's vessels were not energy metal, at least, not the simple molecular-based kind most previous Undead vessels were based on.
The Slayer warships were built of an elemental compound, a crimson-black essence that seeped from the very depths of the Great Undying. These ships were forged with the greatest care and precaution. They were virtually indestructible to all forms of energy the Undead had known to fear. They were capable of resonating to the very limit of the Psionic wavelength, rendering them immune to the effects of artificial psionic systems. The Lordship was defenseless against these machines.
Major Pain could imagine his quarry within the bridge of the last remaining bastion of Zegredark civilization, struggling against his phantom fleet that had reached out of the very hells he had sent them to.
"What do you feel, now... living one? Hope? Glory? No... you feel dispair, sorrow...."
The Iron Scarab reached maximum engine output capacity. It raged forward, crushing many of the lesser fleet's ships before it. A wall of blackness that surged in an unstoppable tide.
"Engage the Spectral Drives!" Nemesis commanded. A quick jerry rig, that was all they had the time to do. Even now the Undead howled and bayed at their doorstep. The Lordship's twenty Proteus cores broke into a stride, dumping all of their output into the flagship's transwarp drives. The single spectral driver, a miniscule instrument in an orchestra of perfection and order, beemed to life. The Spectral Matter itself, a green-blue crystal, hummed with the new force that sought to join it. As if the hand of Fate guided it itself, the drive shaft began to spin. A deep drone vibrated the throne room, and the Lordship seemed to enter a non-stop state of motion. The three-dimensional display went blank, the emergency and restored lights exploded with darkness, and reality, the definition of self-acknowledgement, was torn away.
The Lordship vanished. |
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