Arani
10-10-2003, 13:53
(ooc: This thread refers heavily to this thread (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=66248&postdays=0&postorder=asc&start=0) If you haven't read it or those going before it then chances are you won't have a clue what I'm talking about. Thus, don't bother replying. And in no way is this godmoding, Fardinia has ceased to exist, and has given me permission to do what I will to his nation)
It was an Angel of Death that hung over the mountains and valleys of Fardinia, awaiting the artificial dawn doomed to light up the night sky in but minutes, for the Llothite war machine was in place for the greatest betrayal in the history of the world and for the end of a nation. She floated with a backdrop of stars looking down on a land that would fade from all memory as a fair place, for the darkness was coming and nothing was going to stop it.
Di'yerni cast her enhanced senses around, seeking out the hidden warriors and armed missiles. Beneath the earth assault teams were prepared, and at the tips of the mountain there lay in wait the most fanatical of the followers of Lloth, for their job would be one of the great atrocities of that which would follow.
Finally she brought her sight back around to the missiles, waiting for the moment. They launched into the air, spears much like those that the tribes used in the past, though with a surprise inside which could decimate a city.
And this it did, thousands of missiles were launched into the night sky, each aimed at a city or military base, though many of the latter were already empty of life, filled with only the corpses of those who had been slain but hours earlier.
As the missiles fell towards the earth Di'yerni bowed her head, allowing the demon Sorrow to come into her thoughts. "Nigh be the fall of Fardinia," she spoke solemnly into the night sky.
Thousands of people died in the first seconds of the assault, and millions followed. Targets, it seemed, were picked at random and chaos was allowed to roam as the Fardinian people awoke to the sounds of destruction.
The missile peppering slowed, and finally stopped, but the hysteria continued even as the dark elven warriors crept to the surface. The subterranean assault was impossible to defend against, even more so than the barrage of missiles. They spewed from the ground, like black ants riding on cane beetles from Di'yerni's lofty viewpoint. They were indescriminate about who they attacked, anyone within striking distance was slain or captured.
The same was happening all over the nation, even in the Cities on the Plain. Drow, once the closest ally of Fardinia, pouring out into the smoking wreck's of the cities, randomly killing and destroying everything possible. Such a thing had never happened in the history of the nations, and chances are that it will never happen again. For Fardinia was falling.
The King Freadagar Mienxical, of the ancient line of Fardinian kings, thought to be related to the legendary Yaeson Mienx who the stories claim united the tribes and formed Fardinia, was lazing about in the Bathtub of Jewels, enjoying the sparkle of the gold around him. He had always had a soft spot for anything of monetary value, he had even been delayed from fighting a war because he was too busy counting his coins, but now he had all the time in the world to wallow in his riches without annoying interference's from the outside world.
Well, he did, but then the door was opened, and he noticed that what the man striding into his bathroom was holding in his arms was slightly more important to him than any amount of gold or jewels.
It was his daughter's body.
If Freadagar hadn't been preoccupied with the sight in front of him, he may have noticed the draining of blood from his face and the pounding of his heart. He felt his world been ripped away from him, and at the same time felt nothing but a searing numbness. But then, maybe that's what it feels like to have your illusions shattered.
"Wha, what happened?" he managed to choke out.
The man smiled, and his skin darkened. His eyes changed from hazel to a light blue, his dark brown hair grew and turned white, his ears extended and came to a fine point at the end. The man had become a drow elf, and they were known least of all for their mercy.
Freadagar gasped. Over and over again in his mind he kept running a single thought: This can not be happening. This can NOT be happening!
"Oh but it is," said the elf, stripping the thought from the terrified king's mind. "You have survived to see the end of Fardinia. When you are dead, the Line of Mienx will fail, and Fardinia will have fallen."
"My sons will avenge me!" Freadagar cried with a sudden spurt of courage. His outburst not phasing the dark elf one bit.
"I have known but a few corpses that have the power to avenge anyone, and I have a sneaking suspicion that ashes have never done so," The dark elf slipped his hand into the pocket of his tunic and drew out two small cups, each neatly labelled. One saying 'Elios', and the other 'Dietros'.
"I took the time to rip the name's of your sons from their heads before incinerating them. Never fear, I shall make sure they are given a proper burial, as I will see that you are."
Freadagar's eyes widened as he fully realised the depth of his peril. He struggled to get out of his bath, but something held him down. It was not from lack of trying that he couldn't escape, but there was nothing he could do to go against the will of the drow elf standing before him..
A long, jagged sword appeared in the drow's right hand, along the blade there as an inscription in the crude tongue or ancient Arani, reading in the common tongue: The blood of kings be shed here, the price be paid here, and the betrayal be given here. Trust is a foolish thing for the King's of mighty nations.
He walked up slowly to the king, muttering under his breath as he did so. Freadagar felt something squirming beneath him, them all around him. He tried to shriek in terror, but his vocal chords wouldn't respond. The hundreds of gold coins in his bath had all turned into small black spiders, crawling all over his prone body. He felt the poison of their bites enter his veins, and was still powerless to resist.
Towering above him the dark elf stood, and the king found himself been forced to look into his eyes.
"Long live the King," he said, pronouncing each syllable slowly and with spite. "Fardinia has fallen."
He raised the wicked blade and plunged it into the King's abdomen, then withdrew it a second later. The assassin spun and walked from the room, leaving the King of Fardinia to be consumed by the spiders of Lloth.
It was clear to Di'yerni that the war was over. From her vantage point all she could see was ruins and the armies of the conquerors. The mountainsides were coated in blood from where the fanatics had slain refugees fleeing the onslaught. There had been no resistance, organised or otherwise. Every city had fallen before that which remained of the military could be summoned, and few enough had been able to flee. The victory had been complete, and Fardinia was no more.
Di'yerni felt the familiar feelings of Fury entering her mind, the demon's presence was an explosive rage ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation, and his rage was earth shattering when summoned.
He began to gather his power, for he found his ire kindled. All beings of hostile intent he called to his aid, from all the planes of existence. Those that answered his call were powerful in the extreme, and all had a bone to pick with Annilon and the new order of Arani. Deva, demon, elf, and mortal man alike threw their combined wills into the metaconcert, only those of extreme power or those possessing an extreme hatred of Annilon felt the call, yet these were enough.
A darkness deeper than the night sky surrounded Di'yerni, occasionally a streak of blue light would crackle through it as another mind added its power to that already assembled. Soon even those with a hint of metapsychic power could sense the buildup of energy, such a mighty power it was.
AnnilongetarsehereNOW!
What? What is it?
FREAKIN' HUGE metapowerthingy. See? {image/data}
Oh ... shit.
Annilon sent out a summons to his metapsychic servants, the desperation of his call enough to drag them away from whatever they were doing to answer him. Their minds melded effortlessly, long training sessions paying off.
Stop whatever that CRAZY BITCH is doing rightnow! his near hysterical thoughts came. Nazgar, the strongest of the group, led the metaconcert focusing all their combined power at the young drow who hung in the sky above Fardinia. He slipped into her mind with ease, as the summonings of Fury had left a wide gateway open to the drow's mind. The spell of the demon Fury was reaching its climax, amplified thousands of times that which it would be it were not for the intense hatred that many present held for their target. He thrived on their fury.
Using all the strength he could muster, Nazgar twisted the designs of the demon, which had originally been meant to simply destroy the cities of the surface. Fury tried desperately to regain his grasp over the power which flowed through his host's body, but the incantation had already gone too far for that.
A blinding ray of violet light shot from Di'yerni's body and struck the mountain peak below her, causing the snow to vaporise instantly. The fabric of the Planes rippled, sending a wave rolling down the mountain. All plant life it touched died, all water dried up or became tainted, and all that was once beautiful was defiled. The wave spread from sea to sea, breaking the Earth as it went and reshaping it, creating mountains where there were once valleys, and a plain where there was once a mountain range. Buildings crumpled or changed into hideous structures, yet the humans and drow who had survived the war were left unscathed to reap the fruits of their betrayal or survival.
Di'yerni felt the presence of all the minds that had aided Fury depart, and Fury himself was expelled from her, been too drained to maintain a foothold in this plane of reality. Di'yerni would have toppled from the sky if it wasn't for the benevolent power of Sorrow which entered her, holding her up and bringing her back to a state of rational thought which had fled her when Fury had entered her body and mind.
Di'yerni felt a wave of remorse and guilt sweep over her as she looked down upon what she had encouraged, if not done herself. She recognised that things had not worked as Fury had planned, but that didn't make it any less hard to look down upon a ruined world with the knowledge that you had made it the place of nightmares.
With one last sweep over the land with her psychic vision she teleported herself back to the caverns far below her to mourn for yet another sanctuary lost, yet no tears would she cry. There were none left.
"What have you done!" cried Annilon in dismay.
"All that could be done. The energy had to be channeled into something, and I thought that it was much more beneficial to us that the surface world become a place of terrors than one where our warriors are but charred corpses, along with the millions of slaves that we have captured," replied Nazgar, meaning nothing that he said.
"There are better ways you could have done it!" Annilon insisted.
"It does not matter. We have our victory, and now we must look to fortifying ourselves and to making press releases, for the international community is going to be mightily pissed when they hear."
"Yes, I will address the world shortly. Mayhaps they will even be deterred by this apparent display of power."
Broadcasted to the world:
"People of the world and beyond, as you may have noticed, the Kingdom of Fardinia had fallen to the might of Arani. You will no doubt be angry at this, but keep in mind what I have to say before making any rash judgements.
Fardinia betrayed us! For over two thousand years Arani and Fardinia have been the closest of allies, yet a month ago or so our diplomats within Fardinia uncovered a plot. They were going to side with the Rebel scum, those who would see the glory of Lloth overthrown and Arani sent back to the dark ages. We thought it necessary to strike first in self defence. All the people we have captured will be treated as well as any refugee that comes to the borders of Arani seeking aid. The same courtesy will not be given to any of those who take rash action against Arani or its allies for our actions. To do so would be the sheerest folly. I advise the international community to accept this as a necessary act, and to forgive and forget. And let this be a warning to the enemies of Arani, surrender, or face a similar doom."
It was an Angel of Death that hung over the mountains and valleys of Fardinia, awaiting the artificial dawn doomed to light up the night sky in but minutes, for the Llothite war machine was in place for the greatest betrayal in the history of the world and for the end of a nation. She floated with a backdrop of stars looking down on a land that would fade from all memory as a fair place, for the darkness was coming and nothing was going to stop it.
Di'yerni cast her enhanced senses around, seeking out the hidden warriors and armed missiles. Beneath the earth assault teams were prepared, and at the tips of the mountain there lay in wait the most fanatical of the followers of Lloth, for their job would be one of the great atrocities of that which would follow.
Finally she brought her sight back around to the missiles, waiting for the moment. They launched into the air, spears much like those that the tribes used in the past, though with a surprise inside which could decimate a city.
And this it did, thousands of missiles were launched into the night sky, each aimed at a city or military base, though many of the latter were already empty of life, filled with only the corpses of those who had been slain but hours earlier.
As the missiles fell towards the earth Di'yerni bowed her head, allowing the demon Sorrow to come into her thoughts. "Nigh be the fall of Fardinia," she spoke solemnly into the night sky.
Thousands of people died in the first seconds of the assault, and millions followed. Targets, it seemed, were picked at random and chaos was allowed to roam as the Fardinian people awoke to the sounds of destruction.
The missile peppering slowed, and finally stopped, but the hysteria continued even as the dark elven warriors crept to the surface. The subterranean assault was impossible to defend against, even more so than the barrage of missiles. They spewed from the ground, like black ants riding on cane beetles from Di'yerni's lofty viewpoint. They were indescriminate about who they attacked, anyone within striking distance was slain or captured.
The same was happening all over the nation, even in the Cities on the Plain. Drow, once the closest ally of Fardinia, pouring out into the smoking wreck's of the cities, randomly killing and destroying everything possible. Such a thing had never happened in the history of the nations, and chances are that it will never happen again. For Fardinia was falling.
The King Freadagar Mienxical, of the ancient line of Fardinian kings, thought to be related to the legendary Yaeson Mienx who the stories claim united the tribes and formed Fardinia, was lazing about in the Bathtub of Jewels, enjoying the sparkle of the gold around him. He had always had a soft spot for anything of monetary value, he had even been delayed from fighting a war because he was too busy counting his coins, but now he had all the time in the world to wallow in his riches without annoying interference's from the outside world.
Well, he did, but then the door was opened, and he noticed that what the man striding into his bathroom was holding in his arms was slightly more important to him than any amount of gold or jewels.
It was his daughter's body.
If Freadagar hadn't been preoccupied with the sight in front of him, he may have noticed the draining of blood from his face and the pounding of his heart. He felt his world been ripped away from him, and at the same time felt nothing but a searing numbness. But then, maybe that's what it feels like to have your illusions shattered.
"Wha, what happened?" he managed to choke out.
The man smiled, and his skin darkened. His eyes changed from hazel to a light blue, his dark brown hair grew and turned white, his ears extended and came to a fine point at the end. The man had become a drow elf, and they were known least of all for their mercy.
Freadagar gasped. Over and over again in his mind he kept running a single thought: This can not be happening. This can NOT be happening!
"Oh but it is," said the elf, stripping the thought from the terrified king's mind. "You have survived to see the end of Fardinia. When you are dead, the Line of Mienx will fail, and Fardinia will have fallen."
"My sons will avenge me!" Freadagar cried with a sudden spurt of courage. His outburst not phasing the dark elf one bit.
"I have known but a few corpses that have the power to avenge anyone, and I have a sneaking suspicion that ashes have never done so," The dark elf slipped his hand into the pocket of his tunic and drew out two small cups, each neatly labelled. One saying 'Elios', and the other 'Dietros'.
"I took the time to rip the name's of your sons from their heads before incinerating them. Never fear, I shall make sure they are given a proper burial, as I will see that you are."
Freadagar's eyes widened as he fully realised the depth of his peril. He struggled to get out of his bath, but something held him down. It was not from lack of trying that he couldn't escape, but there was nothing he could do to go against the will of the drow elf standing before him..
A long, jagged sword appeared in the drow's right hand, along the blade there as an inscription in the crude tongue or ancient Arani, reading in the common tongue: The blood of kings be shed here, the price be paid here, and the betrayal be given here. Trust is a foolish thing for the King's of mighty nations.
He walked up slowly to the king, muttering under his breath as he did so. Freadagar felt something squirming beneath him, them all around him. He tried to shriek in terror, but his vocal chords wouldn't respond. The hundreds of gold coins in his bath had all turned into small black spiders, crawling all over his prone body. He felt the poison of their bites enter his veins, and was still powerless to resist.
Towering above him the dark elf stood, and the king found himself been forced to look into his eyes.
"Long live the King," he said, pronouncing each syllable slowly and with spite. "Fardinia has fallen."
He raised the wicked blade and plunged it into the King's abdomen, then withdrew it a second later. The assassin spun and walked from the room, leaving the King of Fardinia to be consumed by the spiders of Lloth.
It was clear to Di'yerni that the war was over. From her vantage point all she could see was ruins and the armies of the conquerors. The mountainsides were coated in blood from where the fanatics had slain refugees fleeing the onslaught. There had been no resistance, organised or otherwise. Every city had fallen before that which remained of the military could be summoned, and few enough had been able to flee. The victory had been complete, and Fardinia was no more.
Di'yerni felt the familiar feelings of Fury entering her mind, the demon's presence was an explosive rage ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation, and his rage was earth shattering when summoned.
He began to gather his power, for he found his ire kindled. All beings of hostile intent he called to his aid, from all the planes of existence. Those that answered his call were powerful in the extreme, and all had a bone to pick with Annilon and the new order of Arani. Deva, demon, elf, and mortal man alike threw their combined wills into the metaconcert, only those of extreme power or those possessing an extreme hatred of Annilon felt the call, yet these were enough.
A darkness deeper than the night sky surrounded Di'yerni, occasionally a streak of blue light would crackle through it as another mind added its power to that already assembled. Soon even those with a hint of metapsychic power could sense the buildup of energy, such a mighty power it was.
AnnilongetarsehereNOW!
What? What is it?
FREAKIN' HUGE metapowerthingy. See? {image/data}
Oh ... shit.
Annilon sent out a summons to his metapsychic servants, the desperation of his call enough to drag them away from whatever they were doing to answer him. Their minds melded effortlessly, long training sessions paying off.
Stop whatever that CRAZY BITCH is doing rightnow! his near hysterical thoughts came. Nazgar, the strongest of the group, led the metaconcert focusing all their combined power at the young drow who hung in the sky above Fardinia. He slipped into her mind with ease, as the summonings of Fury had left a wide gateway open to the drow's mind. The spell of the demon Fury was reaching its climax, amplified thousands of times that which it would be it were not for the intense hatred that many present held for their target. He thrived on their fury.
Using all the strength he could muster, Nazgar twisted the designs of the demon, which had originally been meant to simply destroy the cities of the surface. Fury tried desperately to regain his grasp over the power which flowed through his host's body, but the incantation had already gone too far for that.
A blinding ray of violet light shot from Di'yerni's body and struck the mountain peak below her, causing the snow to vaporise instantly. The fabric of the Planes rippled, sending a wave rolling down the mountain. All plant life it touched died, all water dried up or became tainted, and all that was once beautiful was defiled. The wave spread from sea to sea, breaking the Earth as it went and reshaping it, creating mountains where there were once valleys, and a plain where there was once a mountain range. Buildings crumpled or changed into hideous structures, yet the humans and drow who had survived the war were left unscathed to reap the fruits of their betrayal or survival.
Di'yerni felt the presence of all the minds that had aided Fury depart, and Fury himself was expelled from her, been too drained to maintain a foothold in this plane of reality. Di'yerni would have toppled from the sky if it wasn't for the benevolent power of Sorrow which entered her, holding her up and bringing her back to a state of rational thought which had fled her when Fury had entered her body and mind.
Di'yerni felt a wave of remorse and guilt sweep over her as she looked down upon what she had encouraged, if not done herself. She recognised that things had not worked as Fury had planned, but that didn't make it any less hard to look down upon a ruined world with the knowledge that you had made it the place of nightmares.
With one last sweep over the land with her psychic vision she teleported herself back to the caverns far below her to mourn for yet another sanctuary lost, yet no tears would she cry. There were none left.
"What have you done!" cried Annilon in dismay.
"All that could be done. The energy had to be channeled into something, and I thought that it was much more beneficial to us that the surface world become a place of terrors than one where our warriors are but charred corpses, along with the millions of slaves that we have captured," replied Nazgar, meaning nothing that he said.
"There are better ways you could have done it!" Annilon insisted.
"It does not matter. We have our victory, and now we must look to fortifying ourselves and to making press releases, for the international community is going to be mightily pissed when they hear."
"Yes, I will address the world shortly. Mayhaps they will even be deterred by this apparent display of power."
Broadcasted to the world:
"People of the world and beyond, as you may have noticed, the Kingdom of Fardinia had fallen to the might of Arani. You will no doubt be angry at this, but keep in mind what I have to say before making any rash judgements.
Fardinia betrayed us! For over two thousand years Arani and Fardinia have been the closest of allies, yet a month ago or so our diplomats within Fardinia uncovered a plot. They were going to side with the Rebel scum, those who would see the glory of Lloth overthrown and Arani sent back to the dark ages. We thought it necessary to strike first in self defence. All the people we have captured will be treated as well as any refugee that comes to the borders of Arani seeking aid. The same courtesy will not be given to any of those who take rash action against Arani or its allies for our actions. To do so would be the sheerest folly. I advise the international community to accept this as a necessary act, and to forgive and forget. And let this be a warning to the enemies of Arani, surrender, or face a similar doom."