Fantasy Mysnia - Heralds of Darkness

[Damian0358]

As Seith spoke to Sharyx on the 'ways of the aristocrat', both could overhear Voyka remarking that "that's what I said". She didn't get what their problem was, they clearly really needed to think over her words more later. Her gaze shifted to Hildegard, who had caught on to what she had mentioned about dying quarce. "Feel free to ask soon, you never know when I'll die next."

It was right as she said that that she received her gift from the Vestati, to which Voyka only gave Lucafiel a confused look. The conversation had shifted towards discussing Alexandra, so she couldn't complain to the Redeemer Prince about his apparent gift perpetuating harmful narratives born out of not just the Rogovci's proximity to vampires, but claimed rumors of her engaging in cannibalism. And putting that point aside, she looked at the plant with confusion. What was the point? There is nothing gained from the assumed torture of souls for all eternity within the form of a plant, and no sane person would use blood to feed such a plant. If any plant is to be fed blood, it's the grassy fields of battle where their enemies will have theirs spilled, as they suffer a slow death and wither away from this existence. As no one paid her any mind, she grabbed her cup and poured some of its contents into the container holding the Lifedrinker, as so it could die and she could request another gift instead.

Subteruge in development, Voyka joined in on the discussion. "I've known Alexandra since the Second War. We get along," she kept it short and simple. There was no point to dominate the discussion with the ways she likes and dislikes her personally. She can do that after the war starts.

 

[turtwigwins]

Alexandra looked at the delegation of House Kohar with the same lascivious nature she had for some of the other envoys. She gave Jagvir a courteous bow before speaking, her eyes preying upon the tall Raksha warrior. "I do not believe that we are acquainted, Jagvir of the Kohar clan. I can tell just by gazing at you that you are a powerful warrior." Without even bothering the thought of asking for permission, the Witch Queen gently caressed Jagvir's chin. "I hope we get more acquainted soon enough."

Alexandra grinned, pleased with herself while walking away from the confused Raksha, who looked at their leader with curiosity. Walking past some other warriors of the other Heralds, her eyes lit up when she saw the adorned armors of the Vestati and their exotic auxiliaries. Could it be? she pondered as she walked towards them, and when her eyes locked with Lucafiel, her smile grew even wider.

Jagvir took the caress with dignity giving a small smile back in return, but had little interest in her seduction. One who openly flaunted herself to many so openly would sully a reputation easily. Jagvir would not allow himself to have his line be tainted by such ilk.

As she moved away from earshot his brother Eqbal spoke in jest, "Bet she'd be a good fuck."

His other brother Mohan snorted in return, "You know how little Jagvir cares for such things."

Jagvir would shake his head, "Filial duty brothers, I doubt father would look kindly upon me bedding of such."
Jagvir followed the procession into the throne hall, and grinned upon seeing the vast array of food that was laid before him. His brothers and himself quickly took to the spiced foods laid before them, and quickly cut apart and gorged themselves upon vast meats. Jagvir himself personally enjoying some long overdue curry. "You don't have this selection on the sea." Mohan said in between bites, his happiness at the feast apparent.

As the Vesati prince gave the whispering glaive Jagvir received it graciously, "You honor us in your gift. Prince Lucafiel." Every weapon has a purpose, and the elegant design would do well in extended battles cutting apart the lizard-men. Although he personally prefered more close range weapons, Jagvir fought with a variety. Diversity of your approach led to the foe being unaware of what your next move would be.

Jagvir listened to the conversation of the other heralds with a mild disintrest at first. He kept his comments mostly to himself as his brothers, and him enjoyed the feast that was in front of him. His eyes did move up to glare however as Hildegard first moved the remaining meat from the platter then had it to decay away giving a tsk. "Von Kappelburg.. Is there really a good use for such display? Seems to me you're just wasting good meat."

Jagvir returned to another bite of his own curry before remembering what he had heard from Shanyx previously in introductions turning his attention towards her. "Condolences on the family Valghemora. Kin is the strongest of all bonds." He gave a smile patting his brother Eqbal besides him on the back as he spoke to his point, "I lost my father as well. But I know that he would be proud of the warrior that I have become."

 

[Breadman]

Cordia nodded to what Voyka said half-hardheartedly. The ancient witch had misunderstood what the captain meant, but there was quite a large chunk of meat in her mouth that she needed to chew through before she could say something eligible. In that time Sharyx made her displeasure of their unsolicited advice. The banshee swallowed her food and reached for a toothpick to scrape off the strands of tissue stuck to her teeth.

I suggest to not make too many assumptions about my personality or my capabilities based only on how much a proper meal excites me... Seith can attest to the fact that my swordplay is as acute as anyone's. I can toss an apple into the air and peel it before it hits the ground. Nevertheless, forgive me if I seem vulnerable. I'm not accustomed to hospitality. Thankfully, I won't encounter it from the Light.

"Fair enough." Cordia said as she put the pick away "But should you wish to know anything from steering a ship to keelhaulling, don't hesitate to ask. You'd be surprised how many navymen can't even tie a proper knot to keep someone in one place."

Opinions on our resident Witch Queen? I'm curious about the general consensus.

The pirate captain started to drink from her goblet and was about halfway through when Hildegaard passed by for a refill. No longer viewing things half-empty, she thanked the lady and nudget Illifis to join the conversation. She continued to drink, having already given her opinion loudly not even half an hour ago.

"Lady Alexandra is...a woman with a harsh exterior." Illifis spoke "Should you strike her fancy, you will be in her good graces, but that's going to be a worse fall should you disappoint her." He glanced to his wife "Something to keep in mind for any climbers."

When the Vestati brought their gifts to bear, they both looked to theirs with curiosity. A bottled ship, trapped within its glass prison with magic no doubt. But to the Cordia the name was very familiar. She ran two fingers along the glass and observed the changes in weather and the tides. The waves crashing against the ship's hull. A sadistic smile adored her face as she looked upon it and the tiny figures meant to represent its crew.

I do hope my gifts find fertile soil. Not all I was capable of bestowing with foresight; so many new faces to be seen pleases me.

"See something you like?" Illifis smiled in turn.

"Oh yes." She looked to where Lucafiel sat, the fingers of her hands now resting on the bottle "I must thank you for this gift, your grace." Her eyes returned to the small vessel inside "This ship was one of several that sailed to ensure my damnation. I feared I was denied my revenge when the ship dissapeared, but to see them squirm in my hands..." Cordia placed the bottle back where it belonged for now. "Whatever fun I have with little miss Epina and her crew of singing elves will have to wait." She was so enamored with the ship, that she didn't even notice the small macabre scene involving reanimated meat.

I am no legend, but a humble prince. But I accept your words most graciously.

"Seeing her light up like that cements you as one to me señor." Illifis spoke as he placed his hand on Cordia's "The gift is indeed wonderful."

"I consider this gift a personal favor, your majesty." Cordai spoke again as she finally tore her eyes away from the bottle for good. She was beaming with what could be described as sadistic joy. "You are a humble man, but I must insist. If there is a way for our fleet to assist you in some way in the future, we will heed your call."

"I advise taking her up on that. She wont accept no for an answer." Her husband added before he drank from his goblet.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The sorceress began a lengthy introduction of the assembled heralds, Izaak observed quietly as he always had, keen to understand who would be his allies in this new era of warfare. The armoured arms crossed over his chest, bulking the hard shadow he cast. Todor faithfully clung to his master's feet, the bony reanimate darted its eyesockets at the figures, possessed of curiousity, fear, and bravery all at once. Alexandra spoke of Voyka, the Voivode knew he'd come next, guessing at the order of heralds.

"Izaak... the Hero turned servant of the Dark... I have to introduce you now, as otherwise the others will never know about your pathetic existence."

She made an allusion to a memory, one that caused the iron lattice sunk in his chest to sear; reminiscences always burned. He tilted his head to the side, the wicked edges of his black helm catching the briefest rays of light. "Oh, but Alexandra, the manner you say my name soothes my dead-heart," Izaak began, dry voice scraping through the helmet's grille, coloured by a hint of mirth. "the venom only adds to the richness." Though his face was inscrutable behind his beetle-horned helmet, a wide grin parted his lips and pushed at the corners of his amber eyes. The notions of distrust, and it was not simply Alexandra who doubted him now, were not new to the Voivode. Their lack of faith within him did not matter, his reasons for his loyalty were his alone.

The Dark Lord's lieutenant lead them to a banquet hall, lavishly decorated in honour of their arrival. Izaak's skeletal warriors remained outside, forbidden by the code of the sorceress, their only conversation the hissing of the sea-salted wind.

Izaak's hands went up to the white-haired fox adorning his neck with its warmth, slipping his talons—blunted momentarily—under its armpits and doffing her off gently. He turned the arctic fox in his grip and faced it towards him, its small button nose pointed straight at him. "Good girl." He whispered, the little fox tried to stretch herself to lick him before being set down beside Todor. He placed a gauntlet upon the back of the chair, talons lengthening as Izaak sat down.

Conversation carried round him. The mouthguard of Izaak's helm slid away with a soft clack, revealing the scarred countenance of a warrior, skin pale as alabaster. It looked as though Izaak had not regarded anyone, but through the stillness he listened carefully to their words, supping the fine wine from the filigreed cup that rested betwixt his talon-digits.

"—The ways of the aristocrat can be a headache... So many rules, no room for fun!"

The one known as Seith spoke a truth that Izaak knew fondly. He shifted his helmet, casting a quick glance. "Well-said, Seith." Izaak agreed, letting the wine sting his palate, wetting his tongue. However, he suspects there are differences in recreation between them.

The Redeemer Prince, Lucafiel sa Helendal, ordered one of his Yakal to present each of the Heralds with a gift. Astucious, precious, selected. His talons steepled as the Yakal delivered the gifts until it had come to him. He nodded once to the auxiliary before taking sword in his hand. He felt the weight in his hands, the deftness of its balance, eyes dragging up and down purple hue that seemed to dance along the edge. Bronze flecks shining defiantly within the cosmic sea of violet. A single talon pressed on the blade, sliding gingerly down the length. "Marvelous." He sheathed the masterwork blade, palming the pommel once.

"May your endeavours bear fruit, Helendal" Izaak intoned, leaning into the high-backed chair, pushing a knuckle against the side of his helm, the inky black boneplate gleaming like a moonlit sea.

"Alexandra is adequate." Izaak commented his thoughts, simple and short much like Voyka although his blunt-spoken brevity was his innate preference rather than conscious-decision. They carry well enough together, giving and taking in return whatever was needed. The teasing was a byproduct of their relationship by now. Beneath his feet, Todor and Rossie struggled in fearsome combat, the bony maw snapping at the quick white fox, hazily evading its determined attempts.

 

[Infab]

"Do you have experience in dealing with the chaotic kind?"

"Extensive experience." responded Seith, "One does not study and learn the ways of Chaos without conversing and involving themselves with its followers." He took a sip of his wine before continuing. "Most of them, if not all, are quite insane. It seems to be a common trait derived from the Chaos gods themselves. I've heard simply glimpsing one of them can drive one insane. They speak a language extremely few understand, and write in nearly illegible runes."

He smiled, as he looked to the necromancer. "One particular cultist even helped me to peer into the Void where its said the Chaos gods dwell. Lets just say it was... quite an experience. One that wasn't without its consequences."

He then reached up and slipped his thumb under his blindfold, lifting it up just far enough so that Von Kappelburg could see his left eye. The upper half of his face was covered in intensive, blackened scarring. In his eye socket, where once a beautiful emerald green eye sat, now sat a pale grey orb. A singular, almost pen-prick black dot of a pupil then rolled into view, locking onto Von Kappelburg and slightly swelling in size. Thin black slits began to form around it, like black ink lines appearing on a piece of parchment. All the lines pointed towards the black dot, which now seemed to be in a strange set of fluxuating convulsions. As Seith lowered the blindfold back down, the pupil seemed to be splitting into two and forming a second pupil.

Soon, the blindfold was back in place. "Whatever was in there didn't seem to like me. It also somehow killed the cultist that helped me look into it." he finished, following the words with a grin.

He then glanced over as one of Lucafiel's auxiliary approached. They had given his Lady a gift already, and seemed to have one specifically meant for him. Interesting. Soon, he'd find out what it was. A guiding stone! Quite a rarity, and quite useful for himself. He smiled, taking the stone and giving a polite nod and toast with his wine to Lucafiel in response.

 

[Damian0358]

Voyka cackled as Hildegard and Seith discussed the ways of Chaos, before forcing herself into the conversation. "I wouldn't trust Chaos followers if I were you, they're all a bunch of looneys blinded by invaders from outside our world," she stated, "none of 'em get how those bastard gods work, and I would know. They've been trying since they first came," she began looking blanking into the distance.

"I was there, you know. At the eve of our greatest victory, right on the precipice of dominating the mortal realm for generations to come, they came. Our forces were shattered, and we were forced to fight hand-in-hand with the warriors of Light, as we sought every conceivable solution to push them back. Every battle, a bloodbath where most drowned by their overwhelming force. The skies rained viscera. In some ways, it was genuinely beautiful, the embodiment of all I wanted to cause upon the lands, yet robbed from me. And in the end, I was robbed from even death, when that bastard Nyaramel looked upon me and decided to keep me as a reoccurring agent of the slaughter I wanted and they would never able to achieve."

Voyka took a heavy swing of her cup, which wasn't filled with any alcohol, but just water. Despite it seemingly like she would continue speaking, she didn't.

 

[K0mori]

He then decided to change the subject a bit. "So!" he said, "Opinions on our resident Witch Queen? I'm curious about the general consensus." He then chuckled slightly. "I do like her sense of fashion. Certainly draws the eye, and its quite fresh compared to the drab robes I've seen on other witches and sorceresses. Especially among the chaos worshiping kind."

"Quite fashionable indeed. I can see the trend spreading."

Moments after Hildegard spoke up, a piece of the meat that Sharyx had carefully cut moments earlier seemed to come alive, wriggling its way off of the serving platter in the midst of death throws, as if the slicing and dicing the dark elf had done moments earlier was against a foe in battle. As soon as it was done being slain, foul magic seized upon the meat and rotted it in an instant until the fibers of muscle had practically evaporated into a dust, floating away from the table in a whisp. It was quite a grotesque spectacle, but one she nonetheless approved of. Perhaps showing off her blade skills had made her seem insecure, but Hildegard had dulled that effect by showing off a bit of her own abilities. A sneering, but genuine, smile tugged at her lip as she looked to the necromancer.

For a while after Voyka's unwarranted lecture, however, Sharyx was quiet and listened to the others' opinions. On the surface, her demeanor had changed dramatically. Only minutes earlier she had been gushing with excitement for her new surroundings and the generosity of the meal the Heralds had been offered, but now, she held still, a melancholy mood having descended upon her. The smile which had graced her lips since entering the castle had vanished, and her eyes, while still appearing sunken, dark, and slightly deranged, were now sharp and highly focused. As others spoke, her eyes swiveled in their sockets and she stared at them, unblinkingly, as she digested every word.

It was easy to notice that she had lost her appetite after having consumed a portion that most would consider undersized, barely fit to feed a child. This wasn't the fault of Hildegard's disgusting little act; it had happened before then. But while it was true that she wouldn't eat, she occasionally allowed herself a sip of wine from the cup Hildegard had poured, and then Seith had keenly refilled for her. It was good that he had steered the conversation away from her, too, as she had already revealed much about herself unintentionally. Now, it would be good to learn about the others.

"Fair enough." Cordia said as she put the pick away "But should you wish to know anything from steering a ship to keelhaulling, don't hesitate to ask. You'd be surprised how many navymen can't even tie a proper knot to keep someone in one place."

"Perhaps someday," Sharyx quietly replied, a little fake smile on her lips to assure the Captain that she wasn't trying to dismiss her, even if she felt no desire to show a real one. Knowledge of sailing could be quiet useful in the future.

"Lady Alexandra is...a woman with a harsh exterior." Illifis spoke "Should you strike her fancy, you will be in her good graces, but that's going to be a worse fall should you disappoint her." He glanced to his wife "Something to keep in mind for any climbers."

The intensity of Sharyx's eyes seemed to grow as Illifis spoke, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Alexandra had shown her courtesy at the shoreline and welcomed her without critique. Perhaps the others did not understand how Sharyx had come to earn this grace, but the simple fact was that, should she ever disappoint the First Sinner, the Dark Lord, or the Witch Queen to such a degree that she was no longer an honored guest in this place, after all she had done to get there, she would rather take her own life than to live with her inadequacies any longer. She would keep their favor or die; there was no compromise.

At that moment, Lucafiel's Yakals circled the table and began to distribute the gifts he had spoken of before.

To the noble Sharyx Valghemora, an auxiliary presented two small objects: the first was a small leather case boasting two pearl-like earrings, capped in gold; the second was a sheathed dagger with an ivory handle, the immaculate blade and hilt covered in thousands of minuscule runes that it was evident years went into carving each character perfectly. "This is marble, your grace, from the home realm of the Vestati - pure marble of otherworldly make, and not desecrated with blood from the Great Rebellion," the Yakal said, a slight tremor noticeable as they held the items out. "And a guardian dagger, wielded by officers."

Upon laying eyes on the two items presented, Sharyx gasped, her dark eyes widening as if to soak in the image of these immaculate gifts as if they were miracles. Perhaps she would have reacted differently, more vocally, if she had been more comfortable expressing herself, but instead she was so stricken with adoration that the elation snuck up upon her, and she took up one item in each of her two violently shaking hands. Again, she body language betrayed her- Sharyx had never received gifts of even a fraction of this quality, from anyone. She took a breath, regained some of her composure, and then her voice practically squeaked as she held back a sob. "I- I th-thank you... The Prince has m-my deepest g-gratitude."

The earrings, tiny orbs of marble with gold fittings and clasps, gave off a strange and blissful feeling in her palm. Just as the Yakal described, it was as if someone had carved out a piece of paradise and stole it away for their own selfish purposes. The dagger, on the other hand, seemed to whisper to her. There was a hideous anger carved into the blade by some fallen Vestati, many years ago, a burning hatred for the Light and its servants. Holding it unsheathed like this made her restless, and so she quickly put it away. She could only imagine how it might feel to use this weapon against those who worshipped Fyrixia's enemies.

After removing the simple studs she had inserted already and replacing them with the marble earrings, her agitation from Voyka's intrusive demeanor faded quickly and she again felt more inclined to speak.

"Condolences on the family Valghemora. Kin is the strongest of all bonds." He gave a smile patting his brother Eqbal besides him on the back as he spoke to his point, "I lost my father as well. But I know that he would be proud of the warrior that I have become."

"They died by my hand," she replied indifferently. "They betrayed Fyrixia and abandoned the Dark Lord. Then they withheld my true name, my heritage, and my natural place in this world, cowardly seeking refuge in the graces of King Lethoriel instead. They mean nothing to me anymore, but perhaps one day I will have children of my own and I will bring them up in their rightful place. They should have what you have."

The conversation shifted, and Sharyx now found herself listening to Seith's answer to an inquiry about his affiliation with Chaos. He revealed his eyes to Hildegard, as he had done for Sharyx shortly after their first meeting. At that time, he wanted to explain why he would not pass on his knowledge of that strange sorcery. Sharyx accepted that the risk wasn't worth taking, but she still valued his company and the special expertise he would bring.

Voyka cackled as Hildegard and Seith discussed the ways of Chaos, before forcing herself into the conversation. "I wouldn't trust Chaos followers if I were you, they're all a bunch of looneys blinded by invaders from outside our world," she stated, "none of 'em get how those bastard gods work, and I would know. They've been trying since they first came," she began looking blanking into the distance.

Voyka continued on for some time, recounting the terrible things which had befallen her in a past life due to the existence of Chaos. But if having Seith around gave the woman pause, then Sharyx would be sure to keep him close. She gave a knowing, sidelong glance to Seith and smirked. "I think you were right about the Witch Queen's attire. It's quite enticing."

 

[Femboy]

Yz calmly looked at the face of Alexandra as the woman so immediately ordered for their death on sight, not thinking anything of it as they so simply stood with their blank masked expression. Patiently listening up to when Alex insisted that they 'reeked of fae', Yz gave a puzzled tilt of the head as they sniffed at themselves.
"Do I? I don't think so, I think you're imagining things. Must be you who smells of fae, you should take a bath if you hate it so much, lady person. If you're so happy to cut people from the show, the stinkiness will stick to youuuu~!" Yz chimed and hummed as they waltzed along on their merry way, not paying any attention to the significance of any guards ordered to keep an eye on them. People were naturally bound to put their gaze on them anyway, Yz being watched just meant that their wonderful performances were working and people were taking interest in what they saw. That was like Attention-getting 101 or something.

Cheerfully humming to themselves as they strolled along to the overly exaggerated dining room, Yz took a silent look around before making a comment on it to themselves.
"This feels like someone's overcompensating a little. How much space for family members could they need when there's only like one of them coming to his reverse-funeral? This feels like someone's really been looking for an excuse for someone greater than them to finally come and spend some quality little yummy-nummy time with th- A DUCKIE" Yz immediately twisted their attention to the gift offered by the Yakal, not even taking any consideration into account whom it was from or for what reason it was being offered. Snatching the wooden duck out of the Yakal's hand without any hesitation whatsoever, and taking their new duckie to the dining table where they wiggled their free hand's fingers at the banquet that was available perusing what to take even though they were likely not needing to eat any of it. Eventually pointing at a distinct target they recognised from comical acts in the past, Yz blankly pointed and told their duckie what it was.

"This, is a bununu. Benenes are precious to the one of all, young chimaeragon Promequiddicus the Third. Do not squander one, for they are magical surprise tools that help one in every situation" Yz told the duck as they took a banana, the holiest and most magnificent of all naturally grown food items especially to one such as Yz. Tightly holding the sacred banana, Yz looked to the duckie before giggling to thsemselves softly.

"UP, Promequiddicus, to the greatest beyond~! They will never take our freedom, we are all and all is us!" Yz laughed as they threw the duck way up into the air, although not letting it come back down as they bolted away from the dining table. Instead of being anywhere logical, Yz found themselves somehow hanging on a chandelier rather than what felt like them making a break to run out of the room, catching the duck as they greeted it.
"Hello, Promequiddicus, it is a surprise to see you here. And here the non-believers told me that ducks could not fly, let me teach you how to be a real dragon like you were destined to be" Yz said as they pulled themselves up onto the chandelier to instead lie out on it. Peeling the banana as they lounged back, they continued just talking to themselves ignoring what other importance others may have had to say amongst each other.

"You see Stan, wimbledy gummo ka-toomsome, lugugugug-chromer-domer. And that's where you come in, all you have to do is stand in front of her and them pretend to drop something, just lean over and then I'll push from behind, it's actually just that easy" Yz explained as they upturned their peeled banana and held it by the peeled end. Lifting their mask just the tiniest amount, Yz took a big bite out of the end still remaining in the peel itself as they removed the banana and proceeded to just eat the peel instead. Lowering their mask once they ate the entire peel, they pointed the banana at the duck.
"Unless, you think you're too good for the big-shot time. Ohoh, honey, it doesn't just work like that" they answered before hesitating and looking at the banana in their hands, thinking for a moment.
"I think I've got the wrong part, this is why bininis should come with instructions, Garreth. Imagine if one of these uncultured commoners attempted to consume a banan and they made a fatal error. Who would be responsible, Stan? Would it be the banana-man, source of all bununu? No, Poko. It'd be the big great powerful man in the sky. You know who that is, Stan? That's Larryson. He manages everything, except me of course. I am not as so simple as a mere commoner, Larryson does not give me his scripts and orders. I make my own. And Larryson does NOT tell me how to banana" Yz answered firmly, yelling at their duck complete nonsense until they slipped off the chandelier just managing to grab it for a moment and starting to violently swing it back and forth like they were playing on a jungle gym of their own discovery.

"Weeee~, they didn't say they had trapeze in the dining room, now that's a touch I can get behind. Every dining room should have trapeze swings" Yz giggled as they swung and shook the chandelier around before just letting go despite the fact there was no safe landing. Instead of what would likely just be slamming into one of the chairs, they had blinked just before making a painful impact and so peacefully blinked themselves to be sat in the empty seat they aimed for. With their unconsumed, peeled banana in one hand and wooden duckie in the other, Yz blatantly answered Seith's question allowed.

"I have no clue who she is but, wowie-mama, with all the broodiness of this place, one little nail or something falls out of place and that's how you get a disease. For someone so serious and, 'waaaargh I'm gonna keel yooou' on first sight, doesn't leave a whole lot to the imagination. Look, not wanting to speak on your grossness is one thing, but if you wear that and stink of fish or fae or whatever and try to pin it on someone else, then whoo-ey lady you got problems. But anyway, I think she's nice, she's got that exotic mystique about it. Feels like the kind of woman who'll get whacked by a big bad guy's ol' hammer and leave a Witch-Queen shaped hole in the wall. That's a kind of lady I can admire when outside of distance of being strangled and concussed. I think she likes me, I wouldn't see why not. She was real interested to get a real, big whiff of Yz talent the moment she laid eyes on me. If she was that desperate to take a nice smell of my graceful scent perhaps she has heard of my greatness. Although, smelling me isn't usually the first thing people are ecstatic to do" Yz rambled on as they thought to themselves, pondering as they tapped the banana against their mask in thought.

"You know what she would probably like? Pigs. I bet you find a bunch of baby pigs and give them to her and she'll be thrilled. It truly screams 'weird sniffing queen lady in questionable outfit choice who is completely amused and enfatuated with you'. Though the pigs don't scream that, they just waddle around and go 'oink oink oink'. Whose birthday is it again? I forgot to bring gifts... aw man, is it all of ours birthday? Is that why we all got gifts? Happy birthday! I got you.... this banana, you can all share it, you're welcome. We should do this next year" Yz spoke as they offered the unpeeled banana, simply placing it on the table for someone else to enjoy it later out of the kindness of their heart.

 

[Infab]

"I wouldn't trust Chaos followers if I were you, they're all a bunch of looneys blinded by invaders from outside our world," she stated, "none of 'em get how those bastard gods work, and I would know. They've been trying since they first came,"

"I don't trust them." responded Seith, "I use them when needed. I want to obtain their knowledge, as I am a man of learning. Perhaps, should I learn enough, I shall be able to use Chaos itself to aid Lady Sharyx and the rest of you. Maybe kill a few gods and kings along the way."

He then grinned wider. "A bit too many of those around, don't you think? It'll be like plucking weeds."

Voyka seemed to then ramble on, forcing Seith to tilt his head. "...You really are ancient." he said as she finished, before chuckling. "I'm one to talk, though. I'm a few hundred years old myself."

"I think you were right about the Witch Queen's attire. It's quite enticing."

Seith turned his head towards his master, then grinned again. "Wasn't it?" he said, "Certainly the attention draw! She fills it out so well!"

A bit more wine was poured into his cup, as well as Sharyx's. "I wonder if the mesh is part of the robe? Maybe, perhaps, its part of her undergarments? Those must look just as interesting!" He then took note of the ear rings that Sharyx had been gifted. "The earrings suit you, my Lady! Perfect accents to decorate your already stunning form." he said, leaning over and speaking softer so the rest of the room didn't hear.

He sat back, then tilted his head as he looked down into his cup. Am I getting drunk? How strong is this wine? He paused for a moment, before eventually shrugging and drinking from the cup.

The only thing that made him pause again was Yz's movements and conversation that she seemed to be having with herself, the duck, and the rest of the room. She's crazier than the Chaos cultists. That's a feat unto itself.

 

[Damian0358]

Voyka simply stared down Seith after he remarked on the idea of using Chaos to aid the forces of Darkness. She could not fathom the idea, it spoke of an insanity only those who would trust Chaos followers would have. Despite his claims to the contrary, he's already lost it. The thought distracted her so much she didn't even pay attention to Yz's antics. Only after the antics calmed would she speak again.

"...you don't even know how fucked you are," she told him. Whether she referred to the contradictions in what he said, how the others such as the Dark Lord would react to such an idea, or whatever, she would not specify. She turned her gaze to Sharyx, thinking to herself how that man next to her was going to lead her to her doom.

 

[Crocodile]

Thalarion had remained seemingly impassive as the Sorceress tried to snarl at him over his comments on her stewardship of this sacred place of power. He noted she had not bothered to actually provide any answer, rather hiding behind pride and retorts. His masked face had followed her as she had led them to the door and the seeming announcement of delay was made. He eyed the food and started to orbit the chamber as if inspecting it. His interest was in the welfare of his master above all else, but it was also an opportunity to watch each of the others here. Unlike Alexandra, Thalarion saw potential uses for each that did no require belittling. Words of encouragement or the right kind of advice would achieve so much more in the service of Darkness.

He had accepted the gift from Lucafiel graciously enough and seemingly made the runed box vanish, likely into some dimensional pocket he could retrieve if from later. With another calm gesture, he had produced something of his own, placing a curious golden puzzle box in front of each Herald that was seated or before those still standing.

"A small gift of my own. You may call it a keepsake. Once you claim it, the box is yours and only you will know its solution to open it. Even I will not know it once claimed. You may keep something valuable inside it. No thief will easily open it and you will feel its direction should it be stolen. We all need a little trick now with the Light so abundant," Thalarion said calmly. Each box was exquisite and etched in arcane sigils that shifted once any of the Heralds would dare to touch theirs. The gears in the panels would shift and click, allowing the box to pop open.

"I hope you won't need these little delights, but I like to think something small to confound our foes is never unwelcome. Consider it the first of such wonders I might provide you from my dead ruins of petty wizards and armors." His tone a little mocking at those words. He didn't need to poison Alexandra with words. The others were here and quite receptive to it after her dressing down of several.

 

[Infab]

"...you don't even know how fucked you are,"

Seith slowly tilted his head to look at Voyka. "...You sound exactly like one of my old associates back in Ilberynn. Its almost uncanny." he responded, a hint of anger surging forth behind the last few words. "She lead the push that had me cast out. I'd tell you to go drown yourself in a river, like she did, but then you'd just resurrect yourself. Likely as a teenager, since you apparently keep getting younger. Besides, we're supposed to be cooperating and helping one another, so telling you to kill yourself wouldn't help."

He then noticed the golden puzzle box that was placed down before him by Thalarion. Curious, he inspected it a bit before actually picking it up and looking it over. A marvelous little thing. Perhaps it has a pocket dimension contained inside? Wizards and mages love their pocket dimensions.

 

[K0mori]

Sharyx held up her hand, instructing Seith to hold his tongue. "You only encourage her to speak of her own past grievances..." she warned. She then leaned in and whispered, "If she sees death and disaster when she looks at us, then maybe that's for the best."

She then turned back and examined the puzzle box. Taking it up in her hand, she began to fiddle with it until an intrinsically-familiar solution played out upon her digits, and soon the box was open. Devilishly amused, she grinned at Thalarion. "Thank you, sir. I will make the most of it."

 

[Damian0358]

"And I'd return the favor and tell you to kill yourself too," Voyka snapped her head back at Seith, "but knowing Chaos, they have a worse fate in store for you, so there's no point." she stated, as she turned her gaze back over to Sharyx.

"Be careful," Voyka simply told her. She noted down in the back of her mind to discuss this with the Dark Lord, one of the few she knew that understand the experience of Chaos like her. She was exactly the kind to take advantage of her long tenure in the institutions of Darkness to resolve this. She didn't even pay mind to Thalarion's puzzle box as she just went back to drinking.

 

[joshuadim]

When presented with the Redeemer Prince's gift, Rekko remained silent as he studied it with narrowed eyes. He still retained his suspicions over gifts, but nonetheless gave a wordless nod as thanks before placing the horn onto the table at his front for the time being. He would have ample opportunity to look it over later, as it was the least of his concerns right now. What made him shift in his seat uncomfortably was the ongoing dispute going on between the Hag and the Chaos lover, and he studied the two of them while they sparred with words. He intended to make an effort to avoid the Hag by any measure, given her demeanour and her general existence. To him, the others at the table were less offensive in their presence than Voyka save for perhaps Seith.

The line of thought also brought him back to Sharyx, as she had spoken candidly of the slaying of her family by her own hand. Kinslaying was not a foreign concept to the Saukkonen, as there were instances in tradition where it was permissible. For example, if a Saukkonen man lay with his brother's mate then the brother had every reason and justification to kill him as his honour had been besmirched. Or if a son committed a grave and heinous act, then his father was bound to slay him in order to regain his family's honour. Rekko held no love for the Darkness, nor did he ever desire this alliance in the first place, but he could at least garner some understanding from Sharyx's reasoning.

"...kinslaying ain't a thing many longshanks are used ta." Rekko commented flatly to Sharyx. "With my people, when it happen', itsa 'bout regaining honour. Your family besmirched the 'honour' of thar service. Ya 'venged that. Simple as." He meant it in earnest in the comparison, without judgement, as he looked at the she-elf with a composed gaze.

 

[K0mori]

"...kinslaying ain't a thing many longshanks are used ta." Rekko commented flatly to Sharyx. "With my people, when it happen', itsa 'bout regaining honour. Your family besmirched the 'honour' of thar service. Ya 'venged that. Simple as." He meant it in earnest in the comparison, without judgement, as he looked at the she-elf with a composed gaze.

Sharyx nodded at the mercenary. It was good that even the most spiritually-ambivalent of the Heralds was conscious of her actions' merit. "My conscience is clear," she replied.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

"My sentiments lie with Voyka." Izaak spoke up, the crimson fluid in his cup swirled, cold smile cleaving his pallid mouth. "As for being ignorant of their deities' aims, their agenda is the same as ours: conquest and domination. We've done it, the Light does it, and so will Chaos, the end results are negligible." Wicked talons tapped melodiously against the hardwood table. He bent down, plucking Todor's skull from the canine's neck vertebrae. He slipped his fingers in the base of the skull. " At best, I suspect you may misdirect them, but to fully utilize Chaos, to puppet them? Dangerous." The jaws of the reanimated dog moved in mimicry with Izaak's words, clacking, underlining the amount of control necessary and no less than to avoid disaster.

Todor leapt to Izaak's lap and the Voivode refitted its skull with a twist left then right. It pawed its master and rubbed its bony skull against his chest before dropping down to chase Rossie around the room."Thank you." Izaak thanked his faithful friend's brief service. His voice had been measured, more restrained than either the Horned or Sharyx's right hand.

He stretched his gauntlet across his chest then nodded gratitude to Thalarion. "Many gift-givings today."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Suddenly, without warning, the doors to the throne room swung open violently with such force that it would have startled lesser men. Alexandra stood in the doorway, her eyes glowing a bright purple. She beckoned the Heralds and their companions to enter the throne room. "Come, sons and daughters of Darkness!" She had a wide, macabre smile on her face, and cared little as to what the Heralds were discussing or the antics of Yz. "You are about to witness something BEAUTIFUL!" she shouted, tremendous magical power flowing through her veins.

The Heralds and their delegations got up and walked into throne room. It was a grand chamber with many pillars leading towards it - the Obsidian Throne. A jagged and tall monstrosity made of glass and rock, infused with powerful dark magics. The very soul of the Lord of Darkness was forever bound to this throne. Surrounding the throne were thirteen sorcerers, and Thalarion recognized the dark robes of these cretins; They were Dark Disciples, those foolish enough to follow Alexandra's tutelage. Kneeling beneath these men were thirteen thralls, bound in chains attached to the throne itself. Ritualistic symbols had been carved into their flesh, their blood dripping into the carved pentagram surrounding the throne.

Both Voyka and Thalarion knew that the Lord of Darkness would always resurrect as long as the Obsidian throne remains unharmed, but there were methods to speed up his recovery. With each death, however, more blood and souls were required. They both also knew that the Dark Lord would not be in the best shape, which was something they noted in the past war. Even if he was in his weakest state, however, he could easily destroy everyone in this room. Including the powerful Alexandra.

Alexandra looked at the Heralds one last time, her smile twisted and strange, before she turned to face the slumped body of the Dark Lord as he sat on his jagged throne. A purple portal opened in front of the sorceress, and a large, floating grimoire emerged from it. It opened in its own, controlled by her magic. Alexandra began her incantation, using the ancient language of the Magi. "Mendem lighis vastuli echetus nocterio, o petriactus Arachniite!" Her voice changed the longer the incantation went, and two voices were now heard coming from the sorceress mouth: her own and a mysterious, whispering voice that sent shivers down the spine of everyone but sorceress.

The pentagram beneath the thralls began to glow dark red, as did the symbols carved onto their flesh. The Dark Disciples began to chant their own incantations. "Incremego, Severite, Ozcurae!" they chanted in almost ritualistic manner, as their mistress' own incantation grew in power. The storm surrounding the keep grew in intensity, and powerful waves of thunder could be heard even that deep into the Dark Lords own keep.

Even the strongest among the Heralds could feel fear no matter how little, and even the most indifferent to the Dark could feel awe at the ritual they were witnessing. It was an spectacle of pure black magic, and soon, Lord of Darkness would walk again in the realm of Mortals. With a signal from Alexandra, the Dark Disciples pulled out their Kriss daggers and sliced the throats of the Thralls open. Their blood however, instead of falling down to the ground in a violent splash, shot up towards the Dark Lord himself. Creating a vortex of dark magic and blood around him.

With final words of the incantation, the swirling vortex of magic and vitality entered the Dark Lord's body. Alexandra's eyes lost their glow as she expectantly looked at the throne. The pentagram's dim light slowly vanished.

​

Then, the Dark Lord moved his hand in front of his face, as if checking if he was indeed alive once more. He then stood from his throne. His face was obscured beneath the helmet, yet his glowing red eyes became more intense the longer he stared at Alexandra and his Heralds. The entire chamber fell silent as they stared at their master and lord, who was now staring at his own hands.

He clenched them tight, as he let out a deafening shout that shook the very keep. The Dark Lord's eyes were now blinding beacons of red light as his hateful shout made the Dark Disciples and run away in utter, primal fear. Hate: that was the only thing that he could feel at that very moment as he floated in place, evil sorcery flowing through his very veins.

After a few seconds, the Dark Lord's hateful shout ceased, and the Lord of Darkness lowered himself back onto the Obsidian throne. His breathing was heavy, and labored; He was weak and yet he emanated such a terrifying presence. Only a fool would attempt to attack at this moment. He looked at Alexandra, and finally spoke. "Who... are these souls..." he asked. His voice was rather soft. Pleasant. Yet, there was still something unnerving about it.

"I can see... my Voice, among them... step forward..." said the Dark Lord, as he gazed between Alexandra and Thelarion. The two rivals looked at each other for a moment before stepping forward, bowing down before the Lord of Darkness. "Alexandra, how long has it been?" he asked, and the sorceress answered almost immediately. "A mere a hundred years, my lord... you were killed during the ambush in Ilberynn."

"That, I remember..." he said, with clear spite in his voice. "...Are these my Heralds? Where is the King or Queen of the Orcs? The Duchess of Ozcura? the Matriarch of House Zeldorra?" he asked, his glowing eyes looking at the crowds beneath him.

"Some of them came here as representatives, but I am afraid you've lost quite a few allies, my lord... The Valakians have not responded to any of my inquiries. The Queen of Zel'Aldar refuses to join us in this war, saying that the Spider Goddess will protect her and her people. The Orcs of Caer Narak are fending off a crusade from Heiligstadt and raids from the Medvedyi..." The Dark Lords grip on his throne tightens as he continues to hear these updates. "Crassius continues to be an stubborn old fool, and we haven't heard from the Mirror Queen since the ambush in Ilberynn."

"Behind me, however, are representatives of Indraj, Ozcura, House Zeldorra and the hundred Houses." she said, her hand pointing at Rogvir, Illifis and Sharyx. "Allow me to introduce you to your new Heralds, my lord."

"Rekko, step forth." ordered the Sorceress. "As you can see, my liege, he is a Saukkonen from the Wild North. A mercenary captain."

The Dark Lord stared at the diminutive Saukkonen sailor for a moment before looking back at his steward. "That's a walking otter, why is he here?" he asked, disinterested in Rekko and his ken. "Because, your highness, he has suffered quite a bit at the hands of the Medvedyi." The dark lord tilted his head in response. "They burned down Laketown, and butchered the men. Some as young as ten... and some say they took slaves."

"He even witnessed as his father laid at the feet of the Snow Elves, begging for salvation..." Rekko and his men looked at each other for a moment. How could she know that? "And no help came... His people have no home, scattered like dust in the wind."

"You are here for vengeance, then... little otter?" he asked, "Then vengeance you'll have. Serve me well, and your people will be reunited."

Pointing with her hand again, the Witch Queen aimed at Lucafiel. However, introductions were not necessary. The Redeemer Prince stepped forth and made a curtsy, knowing well that the Dark Lord hated him and the Vestati as a whole. This hate did not hail from ideological or moral differences. Lucafiel did not know the exact reasons why the Dark Lord despised him, but Alexandra knew well... because they were just like the old Maraj.

"The Redeemer Prince and the Vestati have heed our call, master. Ready to launch their crusades against your enemies." she said, trying to ease up the tension between the two masked figures. "That they have..." he muttered.

Alexandra hurriedly pointed towards the following Heralds and their delegation. Illifis and Cordia. "Lord Illifis Blightspreader, Baron of la Samaria, Vassal of the Duchess of Ozcura, and his wife, the pirate captain of the Butcher's Blade, the cursed soul Captain Cordia Dis." Both Illifis and Cordia stepped forth, both paying their respects at the Lord of Darkness.

"A Baron... the Duchess sent me a Baron... heh..." he muttered as he looked at both, seemingly unamused. "A Baron and his pirate pet... How low have we fallen." Alexandra grinned upon hearing the Dark Lord insult Cordia, but surprisingly, she began to defend the two of them. "He might be a baron, your Highness, but in his keep in la Samaria, he trains deadly Death Knights. Cordia and her ship of undead sailors are feared across the seas." The Dark Lord remained silent for a moment. "You are right. If a slave boy can lead a formidable army, so can a petty noble and a pirate..."

Alexandra then pointed at Izaak, who bowed down as a sign of respect for the dark master. "Izaak Rosach, the Voivode of Skulls." she muttered with clear distaste in her tone. "I remember you, Izaak. You served in the previous two wars." The Dark Lord nodded along. "Welcome back. Create me an army of skeletal warriors to rival those of ancient Khetar."

Not wanting Izaak to receive any more attention, the Sorceress then pointed at Voyka. "It might not look like her, but this i-"

"Voyka." said the Dark Lord, as he looked at the young Rogovci. It surprised Alexandra a bit.

"I can see it in her eyes. The wanton destruction and slaughter... Those eyes only belong to one woman... I see the curse of Nyaramel still affects you, old woman. Good, because I need you." He was genuinely content that Voyka was still around, for she was a constant in his life. One of the few things that never changed, and brought a sense of normalcy to his immortality.

"Who is next?" he asked, and Alexandra pointed at Jagvir and his delegation of Raksha. "Jagvir Kohar, The Iron Fist of Indraj, he is a deadly and powerful warrior, with several military accomplishments beneath his belt."

"A warrior... and soldier... I can see the ambition in your eyes, boy." said the Dark Lord, as he stared directly into his eyes. "Hmm... Maybe you are meant for even greater things."

The Dark Lord then looked at Hildegard, who stood near the Raksha. Alexandra grinned as she pointed at her. "Hildegard von Kappelburg, of House von Kappelburg."

He looked at the Sorceress, tilting his head a slightly. "A petty house of Heiligstadt?" he said.

"Indeed, she was a cleric... a cleric who tasted forbidden knowledge. Isn't that right, my dear?" Alexandra asked with a strange grin on her face. "Hunted down by the Inquisition and the Paladins of the Flaming sword, yet the most fearsome necromancer of Heiligstadt stands before us."

"Quite the resume..." he muttered. "But can you back it up, disgraced priestess?" he added. While that last few words might have come as an insult, it was ultimately a genuine question. Could Hildegard show off her abilities... Perhaps she could, considering the thirteen corpses surrounding the Obsidian Throne.

"And who... or what is that thing...?" he then asked, as he looked at Yz. "That... is a jester... I think, but she is infused with Fae magic from the Unseelie Court." responded Alexandra.

The Dark Lord stayed quiet for a moment as he looked at Yz, before muttering something. "...The folk tales speak of a circus that kidnaps children, led by a Fae... Maybe..." he mutters before looking back at Alexandra. "Keep her entertained. We can use her."

Alexandra then looked at the last Herald, Sharyx. There was a bit of worry on her eyes as she looked at the Dark Elf and her entourage. "At last... here stands the delegation of House Zeldorra. Before you stands Sharyx, of House Valghemor-"

The Dark Lord suddenly got off his seat, and using powerful magic, he lifted Sharyx in the air and dragged her towards him. He looked at the Elf with pure hatred as a flaming sword appeared in his hand. Flames engulfed the throne around him as Sharyx was now floating a few inches away from the Lord of Darkness, her eyes looking straight into those shiny, glowing orbs of red light.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?" His powerful voice made the room quake. "HOW DARE YOU INVITE A SPAWN OF TRAITOROUS SCUM INTO MY KEEP!?" he shouted, his deafening voice causing pain to Sharyx's ears as he turned his gaze to Alexandra.

"MASTER! Please!" Alexandra pleaded, standing behind the wall of flame surrounding the throne. "She has rejected their path. She serves the Queen of Darkness faithfully!"

The Dark Lord's intense gaze only strengthened when he heard that sentence. He grabbed Sharyx by the neck and began to choke her. "SO DID HER FATHER... UNTIL-"

"Her penance began with his destruction. All of House Valghemora lies dead, except Sharyx - a faithful servant of darkness!" shouted Alexandra. With that, the Dark Lord's grip on Sharyx' neck softened enough to let her breathe. "Explain yourself," he demanded. The flames around the throne extinguished immediately.

The Dark Lord let go of the elf, gently putting her down on the steps to his throne. "Do you know who your father was?" he asked, before squatting down in front of her. "He is the very reason I was killed."

 

[K0mori]

As Izaak weighed in on Seith's chaotic studies and adopted the same position as Voyka, Sharyx quietly scoffed and settled back into her seat. She wouldn't argue with them; whether or not they approved, Seith was her friend - her only friend, in fact - and she had no plans to dispose of him any time soon, unless of course the Dark Lord or Alexandra demanded it. She doubted this would be the case, or else the latter wouldn't have even allowed Seith to enter the gates and dine with the Heralds in the first place. So, instead of becoming defensive again, she sat and admired the gifts she had been given, basking in the feeling of fulfilment they granted her.

At the same time, however, Lucafiel had taken note of how little she had taken from the banquet and displayed his generosity once again.

"You ate quite swiftly, my lady. Perchance you would enjoy an apple? It is fresh," he said. Then, with the gentle swipe of his gloved thumb across the red apple, the fruit began to glisten and shine with renewed health and vigor. It wasn't merely fresh - he had restored it to the point of being a pinnacle delicacy as if it had just that moment been plucked from a tree.

His voice was eerie - otherworldly, even, but somehow it also drew her in. That, combined with his mysterious and alluring appearance, placed him above the others in her eyes as well; the Vestati certainly seemed superior to something like an elf or a human. Her eyes lit up as she watched the restoration take hold of the apple, brightening its hue and seemingly infusing it with the very essence of life. It was a magic she had never seen- not necromancy, but rather a method to reverse the natural order of aging and decay that affects most things.

Taking the apple, she was cautious not to touch the Vestati's gloved hand. Whatever magic he held at his fingertips was something she found deeply fascinating, but did not wish to disturb. She also did not want to cause offense to the man, so she avoided eye contact and spoke gently: "that is... quite a talent, sir." She took a bite and was unsurprised to find it perfect in taste and texture.

It was then that the doors swung open and Alexandra brought the room to attention. It was a good time; between the surrealness of the rejuvenated apple and Hildegard's reanimated pot roast slice, and Yz, the fey-touched jester whose chaotic behavior was far more worrisome than Seith's studies in Sharyx's amateur opinion, swinging from a chandelier, the entire moment was beginning to feel like a fever dream. "Am I truly awake...?" she muttered quietly so that only Lucafiel would hear her. But she was, and it was now time to witness the Dark Lord's revival.

Together, the Heralds watched as the ritual unfolded, a terrible and wondrous spectacle that left Sharyx breathless and enthralled. With a swift and brutal conclusion, life blood was driven into the corpse, and soon, it began to rise - reclaimed from the afterlife once again. It's him... It's truly him. How fortunate I am to greet him, she told herself. She glanced to Seith and flashed him a toothy grin; it wouldn't be long before she would be known to him. To be a confidante of a being who had shaped history and brought her ancestors to greatness, so many years ago, felt too good to be true.

One by one, the other Heralds were named and their backgrounds were exposited to him, and Sharyx noted the differences in the way the Lord addressed them when compared to the Witch Queen. His appreciation of Voyka, and disdain for Lucafiel, surprised her, but she refused to let it show. She only hoped that he would find her a worthy ally. But nothing would prepare her for the Lord's reaction.

The Dark Lord suddenly got off his seat, and using powerful magic, he lifted Sharyx in the air and dragged her towards him. He looked at the Elf with pure hatred as a flaming sword appeared in his hand. Flames engulfed the throne around him as Sharyx was now floating a few inches away from the Lord of Darkness, her eyes looking straight into those shiny, glowing orbs of red light.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?" His powerful voice made the room quake. "HOW DARE YOU INVITE A SPAWN OF TRAITOROUS SCUM INTO MY KEEP!?" he shouted, his deafening voice causing pain to Sharyx's ears as he turned his gaze to Alexandra.

All at once, it felt as if the whole of gravity had shifted, and she wasn't being pulled to him as much as falling into him, stopping just short where she would be suspended and interrogated. His words were explosive, and each inquiry caused her ears to ring. Alexandra's pleading from beyond the fiery wall was drowned out by her hammering heartbeat, but she soon came to the horrifying realization that the Dark Lord wasn't accusing her at all; he was accusing Alexandra, as if Sharyx was already condemned!

"MASTER! Please!" Alexandra pleaded, standing behind the wall of flame surrounding the throne. "She has rejected their path. She serves the Queen of Darkness faithfully!"

The Dark Lord's intense gaze only strengthened when he heard that sentence. He grabbed Sharyx by the neck and began to choke her. "SO DID HER FATHER... UNTIL-"

"Her penance began with his destruction. All of House Valghemora lies dead, except Sharyx - a faithful servant of darkness!" shouted Alexandra. With that, the Dark Lord's grip on Sharyx' neck softened enough to let her breathe. "Explain yourself," he demanded. The flames around the throne extinguished immediately.

The Dark Lord let go of the elf, gently putting her down on the steps to his throne. "Do you know who your father was?" he asked, before squatting down in front of her. "He is the very reason I was killed.

Her mind was reeling; only moments ago, his hand was around her neck, squeezing the life from her effortlessly, and now he wished to speak calmly. She was too frightened to cry, although she wanted to. The rejection she felt in the pit of her stomach threatened to drag her down and drown her in self-loathing. And then the revelation came: The Dark Lord blamed her father for his most recent death. Like a thread of rope tossed down an endless abyss, salvation presented itself: perhaps he would recognize her if she explained her father's demise.

Gathering her strength, she forced herself to look up into the hellish red eyes that were leveled upon her, and speak her truth even as she was down on her knees:

"I didn't know!" she cried out. "All I knew was that he was a coward, and that he hid everything about our family's past from me! All of them did- Vyradex, Arcyndr, Dragrnon, Midyaszn, and Prydenex...!" Her expression faded from distress to violent anger, having named every member of her family- father, mother, brother, sister, brother. Each name dripped from her tongue like acid. "I was born in Ilbyrenn... I had nothing, knew nothing, nor anyone, and lived impoverished in a hovel. They told me our family name was Falawynn, and forced me to worship the Light, pledge loyalty to King Lethoriel, and to prostrate myself in search of redemption among a people who rightfully feared us and all we once were. They wanted me to become a knight in the Elf King's service!" She slammed her fist into the ground, her anger rising with each moment.

"I only learned the name Valghemora from the hermit they employed to teach their bastard religion, and only because a century of lies and isolation had nearly cost me my sanity. By the time I came to wield the one piece of my heritage that they hadn't disposed of," she said, grabbing the hilt of her mother's sword and drawing it, then driving the tip of the blade into the floor, "they knew I was bound to kill them. I was their past, come to meet them. They couldn't run from me any more than they could escape their own shadows! And I killed them!" she roared, madly grinning. "I started with my siblings, and ended them quickly. I made sure their screams would be the last thing mother and father would remember. I made sure they would go to their graves, stained with their children's blood! I made their deaths slow, and drew as much satisfaction and strength as I could from their demise. Father was the last to go. I pinned him to the earthen floor with my blade, twisting, cutting, I- I- severed his heart while it was still beating, and then I gathered the rest from the other bodies."

Sharyx's breathing had become ragged and unsteady as she retold the event, picturing the horrific slaying again and remembering the final cries of her family. "I delivered those hearts to Kiranna upon my arrival in Zeldorra. All of them... I killed all of them for you, and for the Queen of Darkness, to avenge their cowardice, and to avenge myself. And if that will not satisfy, then I have nowhere else, and no one else." She then placed her neck against the blade of her sword. "I will join my traitorous kin if that will bring you satisfaction, my Lord."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

"I didn't know!" she cried out. "All I knew was that he was a coward, and that he hid everything about our family's past from me! All of them did- Vyradex, Arcyndr, Dragrnon, Midyaszn, and Prydenex...!" Her expression faded from distress to violent anger, having named every member of her family- father, mother, brother, sister, brother. Each name dripped from her tongue like acid. "I was born in Ilbyrenn... I had nothing, knew nothing, nor anyone, and lived impoverished in a hovel. They told me our family name was Falawynn, and forced me to worship the Light, pledge loyalty to King Lethoriel, and to prostrate myself in search of redemption among a people who rightfully feared us and all we once were. They wanted me to become a knight in the Elf King's service!" She slammed her fist into the ground, her anger rising with each moment.

"I only learned the name Valghemora from the hermit they employed to teach their bastard religion, and only because a century of lies and isolation had nearly cost me my sanity. By the time I came to wield the one piece of my heritage that they hadn't disposed of," she said, grabbing the hilt of her mother's sword and drawing it, then driving the tip of the blade into the floor, "they knew I was bound to kill them. I was their past, come to meet them. They couldn't run from me any more than they could escape their own shadows! And I killed them!" she roared, madly grinning. "I started with my siblings, and ended them quickly. I made sure their screams would be the last thing mother and father would remember. I made sure they would go to their graves, stained with their children's blood! I made their deaths slow, and drew as much satisfaction and strength as I could from their demise. Father was the last to go. I pinned him to the earthen floor with my blade, twisting, cutting, I- I- severed his heart while it was still beating, and then I gathered the rest from the other bodies."

Sharyx's breathing had become ragged and unsteady as she retold the event, picturing the horrific slaying again and remembering the final cries of her family. "I delivered those hearts to Kiranna upon my arrival in Zeldorra. All of them... I killed all of them for you, and for the Queen of Darkness, to avenge their cowardice, and to avenge myself. And if that will not satisfy, then I have nowhere else, and no one else." She then placed her neck against the blade of her sword. "I will join my traitorous kin if that will bring you satisfaction, my Lord."

The entire room had fallen silent. Even the storm outside the keep seemed to dissipate after Sharyx's harrowing tale of kinslaying. The silence was not broken by the Dark Lord nor by Alexandra, but by the Raksha entourage who whispering to one another in hushed tones about the accursed child kneeling in front of the Lord of Darkness. Willing to take her own life just to rectify a wrong.

Yet the Dark Lord remained quiet, his helmet hiding away his emotions or indifference. But then, he spoke;

"I remember that day clearly, because to me... it happened yesterday." he said, his tone more somber and quiet. "The technology of Meroa proved too much to our navy. We were unable to land on the islands and invade Heiligstadt through their southeastern shore. I went to the dark forests of Zel'Aldar, and entered the underground domain of the Hundred Houses where the Matriarch joined our army. Together, we led three legions of men, elves and corrupted wolfmen from Cosnach."

"We fought our way into Ilberynn. Not with the intention of taking the kingdom of the Wood Elves, but to aid our allies on the western frontier of Avalion... but we needed a guide..." He looked down at Sharyx, her hands firmly holding her blade. Awaiting for the order, yet listening carefully. "I was introduced to your father by one of the commanders of Kiranna, and it was explained to me that Vyradex was known across the Hundred Houses as an eccentric explorer and adventurer. A multilingual warrior-poet whose exploits were known across many realms... Of this, I cared little, but I was assured that he knew the most direct path into Avalion... Little did we know tha-"

"That he had already made a deal with King Lethoriel by then." interjected Alexandra, once more showing how much she actually knew of each Herald. "Whether it was during the first stages of the war, the failure during the landing of Meroa, or perhaps even before the war... it matters not, however."

"Indeed." muttered the Dark Lord, as his eyes looked upon Sharyx once more. "That day, I watched as everyone around me died, pelted by a thousand elven arrows." He said bitterly. "Your father had led us into a trap. We were surrounded by all sides... and then Lethoriel emerged from the woods, clad in enchanted armor. He somehow knew I was weakened after I had suffered a grievous injury from the siege of Meroa. Still, I was not afraid of fighting a mere mortal, and using both might and magic, we dueled each other..."

Sharyx watched as the Lord of Darkness clenched his fists. "I fell by the hands of that DAMN elf... and as I laid there, I watched your accursed father walk up to Lethoriel as my followers, my allies - your fathers friends and companions, those who vouched for him for skills and courage, HIS ALLIES! - were dying around him. He walked past them all, with complete and utter disregard for them, and he dared to bow in front of Lethoriel as my life escaped my body."

Alexandra watched with growing worry as the Lord of Darkness looked down at the elf. He went quiet once more, his eyes looking into the very soul of Sharyx. Her grip around the blade tightened, as if waiting for the final order. It never came, as the Dark Lord kneeled in front of the Elf, and pushed the blade away.

"I can see it in your eyes." he said, getting back up and sitting down on his throne. Leaving the elf sitting on the steps with her blade resting on the ground. "You have done enough already. Yet, I can see the hunger in your eyes. You crave more... then you'll have more. GET UP!" he shouted.

"Thalarion is my Mouth, for he speaks for me in foreign land. Alexandra is my Hand, for she can reach where I can't, and you, Sharyx Valghemora, shall be my Eye - to gaze upon the enemy lands, and bring Darkness upon the world."

He then looked at Alexandra and the other Heralds. She was surprised, and unsure how to feel, for she personally wanted Sharyx to join the Heralds of Darkness. Now, however, she could be something more: a rival like Thalarion, or perhaps an ally against the Mouth of Darkness?

"As for the rest of you, you are my Heralds now. You answer to me and the Queen of Darkness herself. You'll spread her word and will across the land and bring an end to the Great Lie of Heaven, about the primordial goodness of Light. You will grow stronger, you will lead armies and rule over lands, because it is our time. We cannot fail again, Heralds. We won't fail again."

"Ask your questions, say your demands... for the campaign ahead of us is long, and it won't be easy."

 

[joshuadim]

Brought forth towards the Obsidian Throne alongside the rest of the recruits, Rekko found himself not only witnessing a horrific ritual but also the rise of a powerful and terrible being before his very eyes. Wide orbs looked out in both awe and fear towards what had transpired, watching the movements of the Dark Lord as he got used to his corporeal body once more. How many times has this... thing, died? It wasn't natural, it wasn't right. But such notions he kept at the very back of his mind as he gulped down his doubts. What he didn't expect was that he was the first to be called forth among the roster.

Following Alexandra's command, albeit with reservations, he took some steps forward to come into view. He lowered his hat, to his chest and looked upon the scourge of many realms with visible apprehension.

"He even witnessed as his father laid at the feet of the Snow Elves, begging for salvation..." Rekko and his men looked at each other for a moment. How could she know that? "And no help came... His people have no home, scattered like dust in the wind."

But it was Alexandra's next statement that took the Saukkonen captain completely by surprise. He looked to her with confusion, then back to his men, and back again. This was... a deeply personal moment. A memory filled with anguish and despair... could she read his thoughts? The notion made his heart stop for a moment, realizing that everything he had thought up until now perhaps had been compromised. But if insult was taken, it did not show, as she finished speaking without hesitation and the Dark Lord then spoke.

"You are here for vengeance, then... little otter?" he asked, "Then vengeance you'll have. Serve me well, and your people will be reunited."

Before Rekko could speak further on the matter, the other heralds were then introduced one by one in a rapid pace. The Dark Lord went through them, judging their worth on face value, as the Saukkonen returned to the mass that huddled near the throne itself. Rekko exchanged glances with his two companions before turning back to the formalities that were continuing. But it was then that Sharyx, the kinslaying she-elf, was very nearly obliterated by the Dark Lord for her family's association with betraying him. Rekko watched what unfolded with mouth agape in awe, realizing what he had just gotten himself into: a viper's den, where he was a merely a rodent stuck within. One small misstep would mean his utter obliteration...

But that wouldn't mean he would simply roll over and accept servitude. He had some terms to outline after all. He also thought somewhat less of Sharyx when she mentioned how much she enjoyed killing her entire family. Such a thing wasn't meant to be an act of pleasure...

But the Dark Lord was obviously not bothered by such qualms, as he instead gave Sharyx a promotion of all things. But then Rekko saw his chance as the Dark Lord invited everyone with their inquiries. Stepping forward again, hat held in hands, he walked closer to the Obsidian Throne and swallowed his courage: "I came here b'half of me people. As she said." Rekko spoke, "We fought the Medvedyi fer a generation... and lost. We made them pay fer every inch of ar' 'ome, and still they came. And now, after the Light haft 'bandoned us, I'm 'ere now." The Saukkonen shifted where he stood before continuing, carefully choosing his words.

"I come ta make a deal. If ye help support us reclaiming ar' 'ome, and leave us in peace afta..." Rekko spoke, taking a deep breath before finishing. "I'll kill both tha Tsar AND the elf King of the Nord fer ya."

EdwardDewey98

 

[Emperor Sagan]

The antics of Yz troubled the Vestati the most, out of all the other Heralds to answer the call. Neither pirates nor mercenaries, mad sorcerers or vengeance-driven souls concerned them any. All were the usual afflictions of mortality and the soul. There were patterns there, logic and reason that drove even those with the blackest hearts onwards; in some ways, even Chaos could be relied upon in this matter to be dangerous and unpredictable. Yet the curious jester seemed madness incarnate, and this was not proper to the Vestati hierarchy. Such troublesome minds were an affront to good order. They obeyed nothing except the whimsical turn of their thoughts second by second.

However, by the time the Heralds were summoned into the the throne room proper, some more words had been exchanged amicably with others at the table, in particular Cordia and Illifis, who offered the help of their vast fleet. This much was gladly appreciated, for the Vestati had no mind for seafaring. The niceties of the others upon receiving their gifts was taken with a polite nod, as well as the puzzle box granted by Thalarion, a neat little artifact to be spirited away into the dark vaults of the Vestati. Sharyx's acceptance of his offered apple was, for some reason, something that seemed to cause a satisfied glint pass over his eyes, as much as the woman avoided his gaze.

Within the chamber, Lucafiel steadied himself alongside the two most veteran crusader-knights who accompanied him, the trio standing among the other Heralds as they awaited the rebirth of their Dark Lord.

Fear, contempt, hatred, awe. These were not emotions unknown to Lucafiel throughout his long life. Placid as he was, and stoic as the Vestati often presented themselves, the raw overflow of emotion was something they knew intimately well within their hearts. First as enforcers of their dying god - the Forbidden One - then as rebels in an apocalyptic war which sundered their homeward plane. Now, they hid part of themselves. To unleash the inner soul was to show one's personal nature, and this was most unbecoming outside of fellow Vestati or clansmembers. Yet the distinct flavor of darkness emanating from the revival ritual saw the Vestati grimace. Lucafiel's knights positioned themselves to either side of their master as all three stood together in the face of a great release of spiritual energy, fueled by malignant magicks. Memories of their ancient history resurfaced involuntarily, of oceans of blood and a sky raining corpses. Lucafiel wondered if he and his crusader pair were able to stand now due to their venerable history and their experiences, and if younger Vestati - those who had been born without wings in the wake of their Fall - would be able to stand firm. Fear of the unknown, contempt of the present... Lucafiel summoned his own emotions as a buttress against that which emerged from the Dark Lord's resurrection. He had already faced a god at one point, though in defeat. What remained of his fractured memories of that period were more than enough to kindle an inferno within him that was too proud to be extinguished in the face of another.

And then... the Dark Lord was alive once again, a force of Darkness to sunder the forces of Light into ash.

Lucafiel knew his introduction was one that required few words, and that his own curtsy would suffice. He knew not the specifics of the Dark Lord's disdain towards him and his kin, though he suspected it was a result of their ancestry, as once warriors of the Light. A pity, for to have seen what it once was made Lucafiel feel all the more righteous in his own rebellion against their common foe. Though perhaps, he knew it may simply be a case of practical mutual distaste - he certainly had no love for the Dark Lord, as his loyalty was a matter of pragmatism. It was an unshakable loyalty, certainly, but it was not one given with the full fervor of the soul. The Vestati kept such things hidden deep within themselves.

The sudden excitement between the Dark Lord and Sharyx earned a cant of his head, however; this much was unexpected, and he watched with narrowed eyes. He listened intently to Sharyx's tale, as he did to all things, and he found it enriching. Passion was a tasteful delicacy that floated within the minds of mortals or those born of lesser blood than the Vestati, who guarded theirs well even in moments of indulgence. The words spoken between the pair were like grapes he could pluck from the very air and enjoy. Kinslaying was, naturally, a taboo among most - but Lucafiel had already known that painful delicacy when his kin fell to war among themselves. Whereas Sharyx spoke of pleasure, Lucafiel had known exhaustion - recognition that the glory of their past was to never be witnessed again. It was... bitter. But the woman was to be spared, much to his delight, and they were not to be down one Herald within minutes of the Dark Lord's return.

Lucafiel remained silent a moment after Rekko finished speaking, mentally nodding at the otter-things reasonable request. When a moment arose, he spoke up with his own request.

"The tragedy of the previous war deserves a response in kind," Lucafiel said, his voice heard without need to raise it. "We should follow in the footsteps of Mistress Fyrixia. Let us send a message. Let us kill a god once again. The forces of Light have grown fat and arrogant within their previous victory and a message now will strike terror into their hearts that no battlefield victory will convey; such a thing is too mundane for their minds." Lucafiel raised one hand, palm upwards, fingers splayed like talons. "But if we are to find a suitable victim of your choosing... to entice them down to this mortal plane... and eviscerate their very being... the mortals tied to the tyranny of the Light will know only terror and nightmares for the opening of our next Crusade. Their moral will not stand to the initial and strongest blow of our proverbial hammer. We must make their minds weak. Let them find no solace in their hearts. Let their alliances crumble, their faith falter, their hope die upon the blood of the divine."

"We must make it known: there is no where they can hide from us, for our reach is infinite. Find us a deity, Dark Lord, no matter how minor. Let us sink our teeth and hands into their flesh so that we may sup upon the grace of their blood once again," Lucafiel said, his voice at last embodying a deep, almost primordial bloodlust for the forces of Light.

 

[Damian0358]

With Alexandra bursting into to beckon them inside, Voyka stashed away the puzzle box she received and got up to head into the throne room with the others. This wasn't the first time she had witnessed the Dark Lord's rise, as she watched with a wicked smile in silence, enjoying the spectacle ensuing before her. She always felt that those who used blood magic were often very overperformative, she wondered if it was something about desecrating something so integral to existence which made someone act like so. But soon enough, he was alive once more, with a shout that no one could confuse for anyone else's. Her grin remained.

Soon, one by one, they were all introduced to him, with the Dark Lord aptly recognizing her even when Alexandra initially didn't. The eyes, the windows to the soul, were always the place to look, and she properly replied with a salute which dated back to the first war, long-forgotten by now. The introductions continued until Sharyx came forth, after which point things got exciting. She restrained herself from laughing and clapping at the sight of wonton brutality, and afterward watched with glee as Sharyx explained herself in a way that she could only describe as delightfully unhinged. She bemoaned what had happened earlier at the table, as it seemed like she was exactly her kind of woman. But in the process of this back-and-forth, she would find out much more on what happened - she continued to fight in Turegia even after receiving word that the Dark Lord had been ambushed during his campaign in the West, for she had no reason to stop her slaughter until she herself was defeated by Darude, but she had no idea that the ambush had been caused by a betrayal within. The enthusiasm she showed at the brutality waned as she realized the circumstances, and she was reminded of her own frustrations with Darude.

Her souring attitude did not stop her from celebrating Sharyx's promotion to being the Eye of Darkness, a promotion that was both unexpected, but expected as well, prompting her to clap. But this also meant her partner, the one that mingled with Chaos, was going up in rank with her. This was something she would have to deal with privately.

Eventually, it was her time to speak, and she would be blunt on what she would need.

"Anđo," she affectionately referred to the Dark Lord, "I imagine you know what my desire is, as per usual. The freedom to slaughter as I please, and perhaps even finally bringing my people into the fold of Darkness after so long. But the circumstances of my reincarnation have brought me unique challenges. I can't imagine that more than a year had passed since my reawakening, and I was not able to establish myself as I normally would. I found myself working for meager pay as a criminal refugee in La Matanza," she explained, knowing she wouldn't need to elaborate as to why she needed to flee from Valakia, a state which was nominally on their side, given the place of the Rogovci and their views on her.

"For the first time, I come to you with no men following my banner, my old equipment likely still lost in the sands of Turegia, including my beloved longsword, and younger than I had ever been, in my early 30s," she emphasized, as the Dark Lord would recall how one of her reincarnations had had her present in her late 40s in contrast to every other being over 60, but she had had more than half a dozen years to build up her base for the war to come, in contrast to her now, "the only thing I have is what I always carry with me, a burning desire to slaughter in your name and Fyrixia's names," she said with a bow. After finishing her bow, she made one final remark, "though one question burned within me since my reawakening, and that is whether or not the damnable grand wizard who caused my downfall still lived among us, as just as with elves, you cannot trust wizards not to try and extend their lives."

As she finished, unbeknownst to the rest, she opened and closed her eyes towards the Dark Lord in a rhythmic pattern, one he would recognize as an ancient code-signal for private discussion. To him, it would seem like she wanted to speak more in private after all this.

 

[Breadman]

Lucafiel silently agreed to their offer which only served to make the deadly beloveds happier. Gifts such as this are rare to come by and have to be answered in kind. While Yz's antics would serve to disturb and befuddle others, both Cordia and Illifis looked at the jester with amusement. Such creatures are odd to those who have never experienced their whimsy for a lack of a better term. Cordia has the gremlin on her ship, who's antics offer some levity in contrast to the grim crewmembers and she loved abusing the little runt so much. Yz wouldn't have to worry about that however. She was clearly of a different stock if she was there among them. Hardly appropriate to mistreat her. Illifis in turn merely enjoyed a good jester. They tend to be surprisingly rare in the courts he visited. Since nobody dared to even consider touching the banana she left on the table, he reached out for it. Surprisingly nothing happened. He waved it for a few moments, seeing if anyone wanted to share it as the jester said, but nobody was interested.

"I'm sure its fine to eat." He said as he peeled it. Taking a bite only confirmed it was an ordinary banana. A bit dissapointing, but ultimately good. "Thank you for the nice gift." As soon as he said that, the box from Tharalion materialized in front of them. "Oh, to you as well your lordship."

"My my" Cordia pulled the ornate box closer to examine it. "I knew we should have raided that treasure ship. All these gifts and here we are with nothing to show for it. Should make up for it when we come back." The pirate captain already found a use for the box. The 'model' ship from Licafiel fit perfectly inside. As would an assortment of other items when the time came.

Soon enough, the Heralds would be called again to witness the rebirth of their Dark lord. They got up from their seats, Illifis placing his helm once again and followed to the throne room. The anticipation for his dark reign to return was palpaple. Intense magics flowed through the room and into the figure of his terror. Yes, terror. Terror neither of them felt in years. Even now his presence inspired the darkest fears that had been hidden and burried. In mere moments, that terror would subside and be replaced with awe of his might as he would walk among them once again.

One by one, the heralds would be introduced to the Dark Lord. Once he layed eyes on them and said what he thought of them, the sense of dismissal was shameful, yet something to be accepted. They had much to prove to him. Alexandra standing up to them was unexpected, but Cordia suspected it was yet another maneuver in her court games. They stepped back to allowe the others their piece. When he stopped at Sharyx, the floors shook from under their feet. The lord's anger and hatred was channeled into that poor girl for the crimes of her father. Had she not been a kinslayer, she would surely be dead. Kinslaying. A crime neither of them thought of. Illifis was indifferent to such a sin. Dwelling on it would only lead to wasting time. As for Cordia, she was one of five sisters and long before she became the Banshee nightmare, she made sure to be the last one standing.

As for the rest of you, you are my Heralds now. You answer to me and the Queen of Darkness herself. You'll spread her word and will across the land and bring an end to the Great Lie of Heaven, about the primordial goodness of Light. You will grow stronger, you will lead armies and rule over lands, because it is our time. We cannot fail again, Heralds. We won't fail again."

"Ask your questions, say your demands... for the campaign ahead of us is long, and it won't be easy."

Rekko and Lucafiel approached before them. Both men having their defined goals. Rekko's plight was reasonable. Perheps if their campaigns take them north, they could assisst. Lucafiel on the other hand wanted something grandiouse. The death of a god. Illifis had to make sure he didn't mishear the angelic being while his wife gained a new appreciation for the man. Before they could speak next, Voyka approached the Dark lord. Her request seemed rather...mundane for someone of her legendary status, but it made sense. She needed to start somewhere.

Now they approached the Obsidian throne.

"I have little to make in the way of demands, my lord."Illifis spoke first."My order has existed for centuries and as we join your ranks, I want to make sure that they grow to something more. The Death knights of the Withered rose will to grow in number until we are fit to become the vanguard of your iron fist and an extension of your will. Slaughter wont be enough. We want to extinguish the light and crush hope where it hides. We want to spread terror and dread to those who stand in your path."

"My demands are more focused" Cordia took over from her husband "This is likely of little consequence to you, but centuries ago I had sailed again to join your growing armies. I had assembled a small fleet of pirates, corsairs and briggands, but my skills as a sea with were unremarkable. It was enough to be betrayed and ambushed by a coalition of ships. My fleet sank and along with it my chance to join in your crusade. I made a pact with something in the deep my lord, perhaps one of your servants, but it is sympathetic to your cause, but showed hatred and contempt to the light above. For every heart I would feed the abyss, my own power would grow, it promised." A rolled up scroll manifested in her hand. She unrolled it partially to show its content. Along with rows of names, there were runes of an ancient language doting the sdies of each."I have a list of names. Hundreds. Would be heroes who damned me to the depths and their bloodlines, all of them standing in your way. I want them all dead. Even if I were to gain nothing I still want them dead. I want their blood to turn the tides red." She rolled the scroll back and with a flick of her hand it dissapeared.

 

[Infab]

The moments following their rise from the dining hall's table were almost like a blur to Seith. Half due to him being partially drunk, and the other half due to how violent things became once the Dark Lord heard his master's last name. What could he even do? This was literally the Lord of Darkness himself, who could crush Seith like an ant if he so wished. Not to mention, Sharyx worshiped the very ground the demigod walked on. She would let him do it, and then probably kill herself if the Dark Lord told her to.

It was only through her professing what she had done to her family that she made the Dark Lord relent. And of course, she still offered to commit suicide at his feet. This girl really had no sense of self-preservation. With how she was raised, Seith half understood it. Then came... a promotion? Seith was dumbfounded this whole ordeal. From supposed traitor to the 'Eye of Darkness.' Funny enough, that meant he himself had been promoted too, but that didn't matter at all at the moment.

"As for the rest of you, you are my Heralds now. You answer to me and the Queen of Darkness herself. You'll spread her word and will across the land and bring an end to the Great Lie of Heaven, about the primordial goodness of Light. You will grow stronger, you will lead armies and rule over lands, because it is our time. We cannot fail again, Heralds. We won't fail again."

"Ask your questions, say your demands... for the campaign ahead of us is long, and it won't be easy."

The others spoke in turn, as Seith stood among them. Waiting for Sharyx to regain her composure. Why would he speak? He wasn't a Herald. He was Sharyx's subordinate. He answered to her, per the Matriarch.

The otter-men wanted revenge, and to reclaim their homes. Simple. Lucafiel wanted to kill gods. That would be exciting, and was in line with part of what he himself wanted personally. Voyka was simple in her request as well. The married couple wanted a mix of revenge and to kill off the Light. He pondered what the rest would say. However, he noticed Voyka blinking several times with her eyes. Did she have something in them? Were they irritated? Maybe it was the residual magicks floating about in the room.

Eventually, after looking around at the others, Seith sighed. A thought had popped into his head, mainly regarding Sharyx's new status as well as his own. No secrets needed to be kept, especially not from his lordship.

"If I may introduce myself, your lordship, I am Seith. The name 'Voidsinger' was also given to me during my travels, so it serves as my last name." he began as he stepped forward, "I am a servant to Lady Sharyx before you, as deemed by the Matriarch herself. I was with Lady Sharyx during her escape from Ilberynn, and have remained her friend and confidant ever since."

He took a breath, before speaking again. "I wish to hold no secrets from you, my lord. I wish to serve you as loyally as I have served my lady. With that, I will profess now that I practice the arts of Chaos magic. I learned both it and the ways of Dark magic long ago, before I was cast out of the realm of Ilberynn. I wish to use the ways of Chaos to further the goals of Darkness, and see you rule this realm. Control the various creatures and entities born of the Chaos realm, and use them for our own ends."

"...Beyond that, I want a world that only you and the First Sinner rule. No gods. No kings or queens. If they can be killed, then erase them. If they can be made submit to your will, then force them to their knees to kiss your boots." he added, "...That's what I wish for, my lord."

He then looked to Sharyx for a moment, then back to the Dark Lord. "...I offer you the same as my Lady. Should my practice of Chaos render my life forfeit, my blood shall be spilled to make amends. The necromancer can use my corpse as a meat shield, if you wish." he stated, before looking to Sharyx. "My Lady might sever the threads of my life as her first duty as the Eye of Darkness, should you will it. She will not hesitate, and it would further show her devotion to the cause."

"...But allow me to live, and I shall serve you, and the First Sinner, for eternity." His eyes shifted back to the red orbs in the Dark Lord's helmet. "The Gods of Chaos hold no sway over me. It is quite clear they care little for my existence, as they have already attempted to blind me. I am of sound mind and body, bearing not the marks of insanity like their followers."

Well look at you, Seith. You're just as suicidal as the Lady is.