NationStates Jolt Archive

Soyq XI

The black sands seemed to stretch for miles; the entire world blanketed in a cold ash, as though it had sunk beneath a great wave; as though endless ravages of time had ground mountains to dust, turned oceans to void-filled craters. A dead world. A cold world, where the touch of life did not penetrate. Not even bacteria stirred amongst the stale air; and chill earth.

Yet something moved. The vast temples; ancient tomb-complexes, black metal and stone, gleaming through the dust-haze, shimmering with alien, ancient resonance. A legacy of a doomed past; when the universe was young, and the War in Heaven shattered the void; sundered reality itself.

A door shuddered open; sliding like ornate, engraved stone, moving to one side; as the figure strode forth; a lofty staff thudding against the ground; dust pooling about it. It's flesh, was not flesh, but gleaming metal; in place of eyes, it held crackling pits of fetid energy; burning with a hatred of life itself...It's robes fluttered in ethereal wind, tossed by the invisible unearthly breeze; as it's staff seethed with energy. Turning softly; the earth at it's feet churning with robotic scarabs; their tiny metallic mandibles teasing at the air, as though seeing for the first time, this universe.

The stars were right once again. The call of the Star Gods lured them from a fateful slumber. Life bristled in the galaxy once again; and this desolate world was but the first; the first to witness their re-emergence. Somewhere, across the galactic plane, their Master called; entombed, slumbering; dead but dreaming; waiting for a moment such as this. He would live again; and the stars themselves would run red with the Harvest. The abominations of the Old Ones and their experiments could not hold back the tide. Nothing truly could.

And so it was, that Death returned to the Universe. The skeletal phantasms of the abyss slid forth from their decrepit tombs; ready to eliminate all life before them...For the cold hatred burning within their necrodermis clad forms, yearned to destroy the living; the spawn of their age-old tormentors. The crop ripe for harvest by their most terrible Master

IC:
The Emperor's eyes were closed, meditating on the last few events before the civil war began against the Malkir and their allies. The Kirtir Dark Lord heard the whispers and ripples of these new beings in the Universe through the force. Where they were, he didn't know. He only knew they existed.

He knew of other's he's encountered in his time, and they were easy targets. There's something about this particular group, however, that caught his eye.

Something sturred in Emperor (Darth) Trilkan's mind. Concern? Fear? Surely not. Not this Dark Lord.
He'll meditate on this some more later on. Perhapse with the help of the Dark Side god, Skorm, he could get some answers. For now, he'll ignore the feeling.

OOC: Not a bad intro for a new nation. I hope you're good with Rping necrons. I myself collect them for 40k.

Helion floated free in the Warp, carried by the whirling eddies of energy, roaming the skein of fate. Bursts of color, knowledge beyond ones wildest dreams. Trillions of lives, all playing out according to the whim of the Master of Fates. A single touch here, a tragedy there, a great boon for one who has done the will of the Changer. Helion floated among all this, in the busom of his God, learning from him the truth of the universe.

As he moved, he became aware of a growing green light, a node of energy unlike the others. Moving towards it, he circled it, probing, searching for more information. Moving inwards, he reached out...

Thousands of worlds, devoid of life. Silver forms, moving silently amongst the living, draining their lives away. Great pyramids and tombs, rising to the glory of unknowable gods. Tiny metallic beetles, crawling amongst the dead, picking their bones clean. The end of the Winds of Change.

... and reeled back, drained by the sudden influx of knowledge. Retreating back to his corporeal form, he threw up a defensive barrier, shielding his mind. He was now privy to a great secret, the knowledge of the return of an old race, ancient and terrible beyond imagining. One of the few races that the True Gods feared:

Necrontyr.

They had been drifting for years now, jumping from planet to planet trying to survive. The small, depleted people of twenty were dwindling on death, havint lost of three hundred of their brethren to hunger and sickness. They were those who were not near the Azaha system when the Black Crusade hit, the small escort ship was out on a patrol of the outer rims of known space(To Azaha), and came back a year after the Black Crusade hit, to find their homeworld gone, and Azaha IV garrisoned by chaos troops.

For months they tried to find others of the Grey Knights, or any Old Azaha forces, and turned up empty handed. Now they drifted through space, parsecs away from Old Azaha and any Chaos system, simply trying to survive. But now the will to live was almost gone, and the lack of people making it difficult to keep the ship repaired and running.

All that remained was a single inquisitor, fifteen Inquisitorial stormtroopers, and three Mechanicus.

"Inquisitor... sir..." gasped one of the Mechanicus, who himself was on the brink of death. "The world... we have come across... holds downed ships... m-maybe they have food stores and supplies we could badly use."

The Inquisitor turned around, his once lavish and ornate robe and awards now dirty, grimey, and beaten. His face was old and tired, his voice drawling.

"Very well, Itesk, direct us there."

"Yes inquisitor."

The badly damaged and neglected ship slowly turned towards the planet, and shot to it.

Within an hour, the ship had set down, and the troopers and one of the mechanicus were out foraging on one of the downed ships for supplies. The Inquisitor though went planet walking. His personal sensors showed him something he did not want to believe, but he had to investigate.

Not far from the landed ship, he found a large upheaved doorwar, a vault... or a tomb. He looked at the doors with suspicion, then stepped back in horror. Surely they still did not exist?

The door glimmered; the symbols enlaced in gold upon its black surface shimmering now with archaic green light; blasphemous runes and sigils dancing across it; the great central symbol alive with power; as the door began to slide aside. From the darkness, they came; and the crackling whine hissed through the ruins; a blast of green energy hurtling forth from the depths.

Wrapped in ancient, musty robes; they stumbled forth; their tread slow and monotonous; the gleaming skulls and emotionless faces; the low hiss of their gauss flayers...This was Death; they seemed to intone without words. These venerated servants, decorated in robes and fineries; in gold and shining alien material.

Behind them, something huge; ponderous; seemed to move in the shadows; as though some great enigma stalked the shadows; the obscene light bursting forth like the flare of a sun; the eyes and mouth of the hidden figure dancign with fire for a split-second; before fading; and it's servants advance continued.

"How interesting...So long in slumber, to awake to a feast...." The voice seemed to boom. " I will enjoy you so; assuming my children leave at least some of the morsels alive

He screamed before his flesh was reduced to its basic atoms, and was melted away aswell.

The troopers looked towards where they heard weapons fire, and their lord's scream. Their eyes opened wide through their damaged busted helmets. They each left the ship and armed their las rifles, or tried, half of them didn't even work anymore.

Quickly, they stumbled back to their ship, trying to keep their elite training in mind, but bodies unwilling to cooperate. The mechanicus took a sprint to the ship, the troopers covering each other as they tried to get back to their ship.

One trooper could not wait. Even though his rifle was still out of range, he started to blast away towards the oncoming horde of metal and green glow. The rest followed suit, their hunger and sleep deprivation leaving them to rely on instinct and primal urges rather than training.

The door glimmered; the symbols enlaced in gold upon its black surface shimmering now with archaic green light; blasphemous runes and sigils dancing across it; the great central symbol alive with power; as the door began to slide aside. From the darkness, they came; and the crackling whine hissed through the ruins; a blast of green energy hurtling forth from the depths.

Wrapped in ancient, musty robes; they stumbled forth; their tread slow and monotonous; the gleaming skulls and emotionless faces; the low hiss of their gauss flayers...This was Death; they seemed to intone without words. These venerated servants, decorated in robes and fineries; in gold and shining alien material.

Behind them, something huge; ponderous; seemed to move in the shadows; as though some great enigma stalked the shadows; the obscene light bursting forth like the flare of a sun; the eyes and mouth of the hidden figure dancign with fire for a split-second; before fading; and it's servants advance continued.

"How interesting...So long in slumber, to awake to a feast...." The voice seemed to boom. " I will enjoy you so; assuming my children leave at least some of the morsels alive

OOC: Which god are you using here?

IC: Darth Trilkan decided to continue to meditate and expand his reaches with the universe through the Dark Side. Eventually, he came across the Dark God, Skorm.

::Why have you disturbed me Trilkan?::

::Master, I've come across some gods in my meditation, as I have found you through the same method.::

::The Kirtir God is not concerned with the Necrontyr Darth Trilkan. There is a specific reason why you summoned me. What is it?::

::I'm currious about making contact with this new god through the force. I've seen races similar thus to this one, but this one.... Is different.::

::I shall contact him for you then. Be warned though, they're a violent bunch, and much much older than I. You have been warned.::

Trilkan then awaited for the his connection to increase with the other gods. He felt older, and more worn as he did so. Soon, he came across a hooded figure.

::Necrontyr? Who are you?::

Tilting it's head; one Necron turned it's weapon against the ship as the others continued their ponderous assault upon the vessel and its occupants. Gauss fire tore at them; and streamed towards their ship; as they came one; ten, 15, could that be 20?

One exploded in a burst of metal and mechanical guts; as then others continued onwards in their stoid advance. Before their eyes it seemed to low back into a single organism; innards folding back into themselves; eyes once again filling with that terrible light.

" It won't do you any good. Run, hide; try and escape. My servants are quite efficient at detaining you...You can surrender now; or be torn apart, atom by atom, till nothing remains. Or you can serve your new God; insects. I have not waited Millennia to be denied"

OOC: Well, I'm not sure, since C'tan has the Dragon and the Deciever (If I remember right). I was kind of thinking of inventing my own, to act as ruler of my nation.

IC:

The thing tilted its head within the hood of it's flowing, gleaming robes; flesh shimmering a pale blue, flecked with silver and gold, beneath the tattooed grace of its robe-flesh. The necrodermis flowed and shifted, taking new and interesting shapes, as it shrugged off the attempts at psychic communication. The awakened God had no time for warp trickeries.

Such foul magicks had long ago driven it to its slumber; to rest within cyclopean tomb, far from the prying eyes of the races that had inherited the dead husk of the galaxy...

OOC: Well, I'm not sure, since C'tan has the Dragon and the Deciever (If I remember right). I was kind of thinking of inventing my own, to act as ruler of my nation.

OOC: Cool. Give it a cool name. I created my own version of the Sith: The Kirtir as well as another Dark Side order: The Necrosis Order.




IC:

The thing tilted its head within the hood of it's flowing, gleaming robes; flesh shimmering a pale blue, flecked with silver and gold, beneath the tattooed grace of its robe-flesh. The necrodermis flowed and shifted, taking new and interesting shapes, as it shrugged off the attempts at psychic communication. The awakened God had no time for warp trickeries.

Such foul magicks had long ago driven it to its slumber; to rest within cyclopean tomb, far from the prying eyes of the races that had inherited the dead husk of the galaxy...


IC: Trilkan watched the god, it's necrodermis that is, change shape. He just watched through the force, not revealing any emotion.
::What are you? What is your purpose god?:: He asked once more through the force. He's not willing to change gods at all, but he's willing to try to make an alliance of some sorts. If possible.

The words grated against its psyche driving it to swat at the air, as though some gnat bothered it; it's fluid motions alive with hissing energy. It hungered; it yearned; and now it would feed.

I am beyond your understanding, little psyker. Take your warp taint and run; tell all you will what you will. Tell them death is once again alive in their existence; tell them that Set'thiran walks again. Tell them the Serpent stalks the void again; and he hungers for this new universe.

It chuckled softly; moving forward now; it's glimmering glory revealed to the Exploratory team. No mortal being could move as this; no being could be so awe-inspiring, so fear-bringing. It was not, in the sense of their understandings, mortal. It was a terrible god descended to consume and punish them.

One man fell apart as a green beam smashed into his body. Another simply melted away. Already two men were lost before they could even enter the ship.

The mechanicus sealed the doors shut, and tried to power the ship, but failed when an extremely heavy shell hit the ship, tearing the weak old metal like it was paper.

"Remember your training, and you will live!" the sergeant shouted, while another screamed, "We're going to fall apart for emporer's sake!"

" Yes, thats it...Suffer, fear; let me taste your pain; your madness. You make my mouth water; you feed my hunger. Now sate it. And so they moved forth in unison; a gleaming metallic army; their weapons aimed at the vessel; to tear it apart and leave the offerings ripe for their master. Any who stood against them would perish; all would know the vengeful wrath of the Necrons, and the hunger of their C'tan Master.

Another blast of weapons fire ionised the air; a hissing, searing blast; tearing at sand and vessel; at air and flesh. None were safe, nothing was sacred before their power and the power of their God.

OOC:

I suppose this isn't an invite only? I hope I can join in.

IC:

The brightness of the surroundings could easily be blinding to those whom entered this place, but this place existed not in any known direction, way, or realm. It was just there, just existant. One could easily call it a dream world. But, far from it. For, it was a place of Council, of meditation. Of coming togethers, of discussions. For at this very moment, it was a place of concern.

Looking around, one could see eighteen entities of light surrounding what seemed to be a circular table. Some entities having eyes of blue, some having eyes of gold, other having silver and other random colors of eyes as well.. They all had come together because of an event, a ripple that had created a wave of feeling. No one knew where it came from, but it was disturbing, and stinged of death.

A silvered eyed being spoke up. Forgive my calling of you, my brethren. But we have all felt the same thing, seen what this wave was.

A golden eyed being nodded, Yes. I am disturbed by this.

Other entities nodded in agreement to the Golden eyed being.

We all are, he gazed at the other seventeen beings, however this is something I have not felt before, not since the Imperial Emperor.

Small voices of agreement followed.

Yet, this is more serious than the Imperial Emperor. It is dead, but this is not. I would desire to know what this is.

A single Jade eyed being spoke up, the other beings having a spectral voice, but this voice was more deep, seemingly more...aged. Seemingly female.

Be not afriad, there is no cause for alarm. I can assure you that there is nothing this wave can do to us.

A lighter voice entity spoke up, But Highest, what of the people?

The People will be fine, we exist both there and here. We are the council, we are the ones Ascended. If this should come forth as a threat, we shall be ready.

They all nodded, having released all concern they ecited this place. Flashes of light came before their exits. If anything should come to Novar, they would come together again.

OOC:

If this is an improper posting, please by all means inform me so I may delete this.

Men screamed like children as the heavy slugs tore right through the old hull of the ship. They were no longer the elite inquisitorial stormtroopers they once were. Time and hunger now reduce them to quivering cowards.

Many didn't even bother to try and guard the door, most just ran like little girls into corners, and into the depths of the ship. Two of the Mechanicus frantically tried to get the ship started and flying, but to no avail, heavy slugs tore through the controls and engines of the ship.

Like the troopers, one mechanicus hid, but unlike the troopers, he knew a hidden place in the ship to hide.

They stopped; the lines of metal warriors ceasing to move as they're god incarnate strode forth, a subtle chuckle echoing upon it's lips as it slid forth; the door forcing open; its vast billowing cloaks like liquid more than fabric; flowing over everything, towards everything; relentlessly enveloping metal and armor and flesh....

" Yes It whispered " Now I feed! And the energy hissed and crackled; as it sought to subsume and engulf their life energies; relentlessly moving deeper into the ship. " Come before me and be spared; accept your God...Or perish. I am the way; I am power. I am the limitless hunger behind the stars; and I have come to save you, little ones..."

Space is big, fantastically so. And nations are small. It’s no surprise that it was difficult to find things, like a fifth star god. But one of the techniques used was such that necrons themselves were easy to track.

Now, unlike the necrons of foul tradition, the necrons of the Second Necrontyr Empire were indeed as sentient as the Deceiver had originally promised. And they were quite capable of noticing others using their system. Slumbering and ghostly shadows of their own selves active.

Athrana and Arnran Selvaran, two of the more senior ‘awakened necrons’ were busily discussing the intricacies of a five dimensional board game recently held between the mind of a starship and Athrana, with a monolith portal vehicle backing him up.

“Did you kasterad” – it was a necrontyr word devised for such strange cybernetic detections that didn’t quite describe sight, or feeling, or any other form of conventional perception – “that?” Arnran asked, after a moment.

“Yes,” the other replied, beckoning another of the necrons over in the simulation, Asalae, whose form here resembled that of an attractive necrontyr woman, and whose form in combat resembled most, “Did you get that Asal?”

She nodded, looking puzzled. The three of them descended into the simulation, “Necrons waking up somewhere?” Arnran concluded after a time.

Athrana nodded, “I’ll report it, Arnaran, see if you can’t investigate, Asal, care to get a networked non-military portal lockdown set up? It’d be best not to have renegade necrons flooding through portals…”

They nodded, and began working…

It stopped for a moment, ceasing in it's rampant hunger to taste the void for a perfect second. Something stirred in the abyss; far from this desolate world. It tasted, in that momentary clarity and madness; the presence of others; it's former brothers, gods-in-arms; surely with other servants, advanced servants. Had all its years in slumber drove it senile? Had its works been idle?

" Let them come..." It hissed softly; proceeding; Necrodermis reshaping it killing tools; to descend against the prey-races. The food, these lesser beings that yearned to be harvested. By their own inferiority, they deserved death; death or worship and servitude...

Darth Malice was in her private meditation chambers in the center of The Wraith. She sat, deep in her meditation. The glowing eyes of her mask were off at the moment, and her eyes were closed as well. Perhaps the state of her natural eyes had an effect on the status of the mask's own glowing Iris? But none of this mattered at the moment. The Dark Lord snapped out of her meditation. She had sensed something...

She felt a new presence in the universe. As if something had awoken recently. She found this...interesting, to say the least. Perhaps she could use this new power to her own ends, to further her goals. A small smile appeared on the Dark Lords face, but none could see it under her mask.

"Commander Karath?"

She whispered. Though the Commander was on the Bridge, Malice could still easily communicate with him. The Force could be used for far more then simple-minded brutality, after all.

"Y-yes, Lord Malice?"

He questioned. He had never gotten use to Malice prying into his mind and speaking to him in such a way, and he doubted he doubted he ever would.

"My meditations have...revealed something to me. Several million light years away, but none the less...I wish to investigate. Send some of our Cruisers...this is all..."

And so it done, a team of five Sith Cruisers were sent to seek out this disturbance, and perhaps even speak with it.

The troopers fought and died, or they cowered and died.

One of the Mechanicus thought he could save his own life by showing himself, as he was asked. He jumped out infront of the Necrons and got to his knees, and bowed down.

"Please! Please! Let me live! I show myself! I will serve, please don't kill me!" he screeched, half sobbing.

In the depths of the ship, the last Mechanicus simply waited in his hollowed hiding spot, rocking back and forth, wishing for the nightmare to end. Wishing for the voices in his head to go away, for that infernal C'Tan to dissapear.

Reaching down, caressing the side of the the Mechanicus' face; before the silvery hand closed about it's throat; digits shifting to knifes, lifting him into the air with a sardonic cackle. Energy danced about it's fingers as it tasted his life energy; sampling his essence.

" Tell me where to go, little thing...Tell me the powers of this galaxy anew. Where is life? Where can I feast? Direct me in my predation and you shall not suffer. I shall purify you." Laughter again, echoing; all about them...

Strength flooded its body, the hunger sated slightly, yet no where near satisfied. It needed to feed; to feast on worlds. To consume civilisations; bend races to it's will. It lacked the raw strength of the Dragon or the Nightbringer; it was never a match for the Deciever in cunning; yet it had fractions of both, mingled with its own sadistic tormenting glee.

There, in its black and terrible form; it writhed and hissed; this being of seemingly limitless power and infinite malice.

"Give me your knowledge...."

The man screamed in terror as thing started to flood his mind, and the claws gripping his neck.

"I-I don't know! We don't belong to a civilization! We've been wandering for years! w-wait wait don't kill me! I-I-I think I know... A-A vast empire of insects! T-tyranids! Near the galactic rim! A feast for you, m-masters!"

"A feast indeed; a great and mighty feast. An infinite empire of life, prey, food..." He chuckled softly, seeming now more benevolent, letting the Techpriest fall to its knees; letting his shimmering, blazing eyes drift down to him; before it turned in a flurry of robes; leaving the ship; energy crackling from its fingertips; madness itself permeating the air.

" Run, and tell those you will what you will. Tell them that death is coming for them. Tell them, their god returns to reap his harvest and eat his fill. Remind them of the Skeletal death that stalks the stars; the death of worlds; the consumer of suns. Tell them of the Serpent, of mighty Set'thiran..."

The priest simply quivered on the floor, having wet himself by now. He did not wish to move, or look, or even breath. He simply cowered in fear.

The thing walked out into the scorched sands, the dead world undulating beneath its feet as it raised a hand; cracking, hissing, roaring; as the ground itself seemed to split apart; and then it and it's sinister retinue had vanished. The tomb seemed to seethe with energy; surging and coalescing in a cloud of jade energy; the tomb raising; revealing the lower half; an immense vessel, tearing from the ground.

A fraction of a greater whole; a mere part of a dead empire; it slid forth in search of more of its servants; more of its worlds. To avoid, for now, it's wayward brothers and to feed...For Millennia had passed, and despite his most recent meal; the Hunger was upon him once again. A hunger for worlds and suns....

It would be sated, one way or another. It thought, chuckling softly; as it reached out with clawed talon, reshaping to elegant fingers as it closed about the sun reflecting in the viewscreen. It was merely a matter of finding a suitable meal....

Bump

Bump

((I'd post again if I knew if you planned on replying to my previous post, or if you wanted me to post again somehow.))

OOC: Post again; Post arriving, for example.

Ten cruisers slowed out of hyper-space in the area where Lord Malice had sensed the disturbance. They each held two squadrons of fighters as well, just incase this new alien force was hostile. The crews of the ships began to scout around the area, but found nothing...yet...

" More insects come to worship at the foot of their God?" His laughter echoed about the vessel; its power coarsing through it; he and it, linked, intertwined. Powers merging and fusing. He could feel every part of the ship; as though their Necrodermis' were one...It let its gleaming eyes scan the void; identifying the foreign vessels; it's ship fading, inertialess drives engaging as it vanished; reappearing nigh-instantaneouly behind the Sith vessels.

"Hello Children" It's voice boomed, with all the seeming of a black and terrible god, a Daemon that is dreaming. "It is so nice when they return to the fold; Have you come to worship me? Have you come to bow to the feet of your God returned, little ones? How you have climbed the ladder...So much has changed in 60 Million Years."

Arnran’s form was not like that of lesser necron lords. He was borne aloft on the body of a destroyer, but he also possessed the long, flexible legs of the constructs known as Tomb ‘Spyder’ Surrounded by half a dozen immortals, all sharing a single necrontyr mind, of course, and a dozen large scarab-like constructs, he watched as the green flash of a portal engaged… Gesturing forth with his warscythe, the necrons advanced through the fold in space, neither knowing truly where it led. A tomb world, or a ship, or perhaps, just perhaps, open space… All they knew is that it was where the others were, and that this was worthy of investigation.

The portal opened, gaping upon the tomb world; as countless Necrons, rising from their ancient tombs and striding across the long dead world; their eyes raised skyward; as they vanished, to appear on the vast tombship above. The Thing, The Serpent, turned; eyes blazing as something registered across his vision; marring the screen to one side, details, an energy fluctuation; followed by a view of the planet.

" Others; these are not mine..." It hissed; it's corporeal form fading, reappearing far below; towering over the Necron's below it. Those who held allegience to he alone bowed reflexively; going down on robotic knees.
"Behold my Glory; behold your God returned...Too long have I been gone from this Universe; too long have I slumbered. Who has sent you? How did you know of my awakening? Or do I ask answers from Servants who cannot fathom my will?"

Arnran hovered before the C’tan, he thought that perhaps he recognised this thing, something that called itself Set’thiran. An abomination of sorts, that would no doubt seek only to destroy, conquer and consume. While he had himself once considered Asirnoth, the Void-Dragon, his ‘master’ he didn’t recall ever being as servile as these necrons seemed.

Flaming green eyes gazing into the abyssal depths of the C’tan’s own, he had the manner of one who knew himself invulnerable. “I send myself. I serve,” it was true, after a fashion, “Mephet’ran and Asirnoth. Your reawakening was obvious to us.”

It was clear that this was no mere servant, but a being possessed of the full vagaries of sentience and independence. He was a necron as promised if not as intended. “They will wish to speak with you,” he said, “about a great, multitude of subjects.”

OOC: Incidentally, what would you like Set’thiran to mean in necrontyr? I’ve got a sort of vocabulary list done. –ran I have down as lord, hence, Mephet’ran = Messenger Lord, and Arnran = Golden Lord, but the rest is up to you really.

" The Dragon and the Messenger? Allied?" He almost felt like laughing; letting girth spill forth; but he did not. His eyes fixed, blazing like stones aflame; seething with carnal energy; the death of worlds; the doom of suns; burned there with implacable intensity.

"So my former brethern sends their servants to find me? To bring me before them? They would prostitute my form before them! I would be a course in their feast, I suppose!" It's eyes seemed to blaze deeper. " Let them come to me; I speak not with pawns given thought. Should they wish my presence; let them come to me. There is indeed much to discuss; much has passed without my knowing"

He glanced skywards " Already these upstarts think they can defile my domain; they merely bring the much needed sustenance to me..."

OOC: Not sure; something like Serpent Lord?

“I will relay your request. I am sure they will be eager to speak with you…” he said, remaining still, a necron did not require movement to relay such a request after all…

OOC: Humm. I’ll get back to you tomorrow morning. It’s night now. Incidentally, I’ve killed off the nightbringer in this background…

"Hello Children" It's voice boomed, with all the seeming of a black and terrible god, a Daemon that is dreaming. "It is so nice when they return to the fold; Have you come to worship me? Have you come to bow to the feet of your God returned, little ones? How you have climbed the ladder...So much has changed in 60 Million Years."

The Captain was shocked, and slightly scared of this new...presence.

"Who is this? Idenify your self, coward, or I shall destroy you immediatly...what ever you are..."

"I am Set'thiran; the living God; God Incarnate. I am the devourer of worlds; the consumer of Suns. I have lived countless millenia; only now to return to your awakened world. How beautiful it is; how ripe." Wry laughter now, echoing about them

"If you wish to remain whole and unconsumed; I suggest you leave. I hunger for life itself; none can escape me. If you do not leave; I shall be forced to take steps; and my servants are not to be trifled with...."

As if on cue; a Portal opened within the Sith vessel; disgorging hordes of Scarabs, and the slowly lumbering Immortals. Pariah's moved forth; inhibiting psychic and force abilities with every step. Destroyers hovered free; whirring on their hovering torsos; skimmers across the metal of decks; targetting lenses gleaming with cold malice.

Gauss weapons crackled and hissed as the Necron's strode forward; slow, deliberate; death itself..

The portal opened, and then the portal closed.

Out of it, a single figure passed, its form not humanoid, but instead serpent or wyrm like. A four legged dragon that did not consent to touch the ground but instead flew as if it were one of the oriental dragons of Earth. It sauntered over to Arnran, and cocked its head to one side as it observed this… other… C’tan.

Its voice was deep and threatening, with a remembrance no mortal being could ever hope to match. “So,” Asirnoth said, “You have survived…All this time. Most surprising.”

OOC: You shouldn’t really have Pariahs, they were developed after the C’tan emerged from their tombs, from humans.

OOC: I know; I know all the Necron fluff. All will be explained in time. Besides; can you really call untouchables and Pariahs human? ;)

IC:

"And you and the Messenger survive, together it would appear. What of our others brothers? What fate do they have?" The hovered forward; air cracklinhg with his movements, as he reared up, taller than the Dragon.

"My sleep has been sporadic, I know little of this universe. I awoke from time to time; flitting between worlds and stars; feeding; and harvesting the works of ages past. Humans do make such wonderful toys. A shame to see that old Empire of fear and superstition and servitude collapsed; but the rest of them still serve a purpose. And nulls still walk amongst them. I take it the great work is being completed? Or do I awake to find our old duties are set aside?"

He tilted his head slightly. "Are you going to enlighten me then, of what has come to pass? Of how this...Alliance between you came to be?"

The Dragon did not know of this ‘old empire’ that was spoken of, humanity, as far as he was concerned, never having been a united entity*. The other being drawing its avatar up to its full height certainly didn’t impress him.

“The Great Warding? Set aside, as a pointless task,” the Dragon said, “Of course, I should ask what you would know of duty, A C’tan of your time may know all that there is to know about destruction, ego and pride, but of duty? I cannot imagine that. And as for our ‘alliance’ came into existence, I doubt you would understand…yet. Thus, allow me to put it simply; it was a matter of coercion, as is this…

“Serve us or be destroyed.”

OOC: Of course I can. They are human.

* I assume you mean the Imperium of Man. I consider that an alt. timeline, really.

" So this is what it comes down to? Serve or be Destroyed? And you speak to me of Ego and pride!" It hissed, Necrodermis involuntarily shuddering and shifting. "The Great Warding is abandoned; the howling void beyond may still consume us, and you set it aside? You know nothing then! We were united then, determined to seal off the Old Ones' ancient legacy, their failed experiment. Had the Plague not come...Had we not been driven to the edge of Starvation"

It slunk back. "I suppose then that I have no choice; I would not set aside my millennia of existence simply through having wronged you. But know this; I shall do much as I please within my own domain" It's eyes were blazing now; infernos of raw energy, burning with hate at the Dragon.

"No matter; the domains of man are of no concern to us now; save as feeding grounds; your lack of knowledge of pasts and worlds does not matter; not now...So, what manner will this 'servitude' take?" It hissed; eager to know, yet not willing to be bound and chained as the lapdog of it's former foes and allies

OOC: Humans with severe psychic mutations. Even other humans feel repulsed by them, especially psykers; they aren't truly human; but not truly something else either; in my eyes.

“Starvation,” he laughed, “withdrawal is not starvation. They could not destroy the stars, and it is on those we truly feed. And no ego, simply fact.

“If you want an… agreement… then take this one, for now. Keep your activities quiet, whatever you do, as long as you keep it restricted to this area of the galaxy, we could care less. And no, nothing will consume us. The immaterium here is a fraction of what it once was, and our research into the Warding continues down different and unimagined roads.”

OOC: In other words, try not to kill anything I ICly like. Most II posters probably deserve being fed upon anyway… And this lets you get up to whatever evil you like, provided it doesn’t stain my reputation… It's morally bankrupt, but OOCly better than going for the logical option of destroying you.;)

It nodded softly in darkly veiled understanding "Very well; I shall stay my hand for now; I shall feed upon my star and upon life itself; I shall rule this portion of the galaxy as we ruled before. I withdrew to avoid starvation, the plague destroying everything...But I ask again; what of our brothers? He who fed on fear; and the exiled Outsider?" It's eyes glimmered with interest.

"I shall abide by your requests, provided I am not denied knowledge of this time I emerge to"

"The one known to the Eldar as Kailis Ra is destroyed. The Outsider remains entombed, held so by the soceries of the Eldar."

"And no attempts have been made to release it from it's bondage? Do you forsake your own kin, Dragon? You and the messenger play amongst the stars, forsaking our ancient glory? Have you grown as moral as cattle in the long sleep?"

"You would leave our kin to languish in the bonds of the Old Ones whorish service! You would leave it, mad and ravening! Why not loose it? Why not unleash it against our enemies; or consume it? Its power alone would aid us...."