MasterDAF
Senior Member
Withered Deathbringer of Desicated Sands and Unholy Glories watched as his occultist peer rolled her eyes and rebuked Hunger Clad in Eight Broken Chains.
It is an unlost irony that the voice belonging to The Voice That Whispers From the Heart of Darkness would be a repulsively obnoxious one.
The Abyssal sighed.
Unfortunately, she raises a good point with it. An assault that can be wiped away under the oppressive tide of innumerable enemies is not much of an assault at all.
He eyed the massive Dusk Caste in the room, and thought about the impressive display Hunger Clad in Eight Broken Chains displayed dispatching their Solar quarry days earlier. Of all the favored servants of the Deliverer, it was he that Deathbringer was most wary of crossing. The rest could likely be brought low through a skilled application of martial prowess and necromantic spellcraft. But the hulking monstrosity would no doubt be a merciless fight to the finish, and he was not entirely confident which side would claim victory in such a contest.
As the traitors of the Divine Revolution proved, even the mighty can be toppled. The brute might fill a legion's worth of plots in a graveyard with the slain champions of the Great Maker. But if their supply is truly limitless, eventually he too would fall.
Deathbringer stepped closer to Eight Chains in a show of support, though mindfull to keep himself outside the voraciously hungry warrior's reach. "Actually," he addressed Voice again, "I believe what our armor-clad compatriot is suggesting is a fact finding mission. How better to test the military capabilities of our foes, than with a series of controlled skirmishes?"
He gestured to the other deathknights in attendance. "The Knight could challenge these mystery exalts while Eight Chains grinds their troops to paste. You and I could work in tandem," he fought the urge to throw up just proposing such an activity, "to raise corpses in the shadowland and press the local ghosts into our service. That might help to avoid 'throwing resources away' as you had stated. And lastly," he highlighted his crafty blackened skull carrying peer, "Scion could set about building defenses from the arrayed bodies, so we don't find ourselves removed from our own proverbial 'beach-head' the moment we face any serious opposition."
Deathbringer smiled to himself under the mask. It felt like a solid plan, and one that would give him ample opportunity to personally guage the abilities of his fellows simultaneously with those of their new enemies. He turned to ask his liege if she had any additional recommendations, and his gaze swept over Cuckoo of the Endless Facets.
How does he fade so quickly from my attention!?
"Oh!" the surprised exalt stammered, "and Cuckoo, of course, would have an extremely important role too. He would...uh, provide auxiliary aid?" Deathbringer repeated himself, forcing confidence back into his briefly flustered voice. "Yes, auxiliary aid through logistical support." He waved his hand nonchalantly, "very important, very top secret. I will not bore you with the details at this time."
It is an unlost irony that the voice belonging to The Voice That Whispers From the Heart of Darkness would be a repulsively obnoxious one.
The Abyssal sighed.
Unfortunately, she raises a good point with it. An assault that can be wiped away under the oppressive tide of innumerable enemies is not much of an assault at all.
He eyed the massive Dusk Caste in the room, and thought about the impressive display Hunger Clad in Eight Broken Chains displayed dispatching their Solar quarry days earlier. Of all the favored servants of the Deliverer, it was he that Deathbringer was most wary of crossing. The rest could likely be brought low through a skilled application of martial prowess and necromantic spellcraft. But the hulking monstrosity would no doubt be a merciless fight to the finish, and he was not entirely confident which side would claim victory in such a contest.
As the traitors of the Divine Revolution proved, even the mighty can be toppled. The brute might fill a legion's worth of plots in a graveyard with the slain champions of the Great Maker. But if their supply is truly limitless, eventually he too would fall.
Deathbringer stepped closer to Eight Chains in a show of support, though mindfull to keep himself outside the voraciously hungry warrior's reach. "Actually," he addressed Voice again, "I believe what our armor-clad compatriot is suggesting is a fact finding mission. How better to test the military capabilities of our foes, than with a series of controlled skirmishes?"
He gestured to the other deathknights in attendance. "The Knight could challenge these mystery exalts while Eight Chains grinds their troops to paste. You and I could work in tandem," he fought the urge to throw up just proposing such an activity, "to raise corpses in the shadowland and press the local ghosts into our service. That might help to avoid 'throwing resources away' as you had stated. And lastly," he highlighted his crafty blackened skull carrying peer, "Scion could set about building defenses from the arrayed bodies, so we don't find ourselves removed from our own proverbial 'beach-head' the moment we face any serious opposition."
Deathbringer smiled to himself under the mask. It felt like a solid plan, and one that would give him ample opportunity to personally guage the abilities of his fellows simultaneously with those of their new enemies. He turned to ask his liege if she had any additional recommendations, and his gaze swept over Cuckoo of the Endless Facets.
How does he fade so quickly from my attention!?
"Oh!" the surprised exalt stammered, "and Cuckoo, of course, would have an extremely important role too. He would...uh, provide auxiliary aid?" Deathbringer repeated himself, forcing confidence back into his briefly flustered voice. "Yes, auxiliary aid through logistical support." He waved his hand nonchalantly, "very important, very top secret. I will not bore you with the details at this time."
