Jenrak
15-11-2005, 00:31
The Telletruss
Aboard it’s dark and creeping edge, the icy cold breeze of the frost of pain, darkness permeating it’s steel marrow, the spinal backbone of it’s legions, cold and unforgiving. Alongside it’s shallow stone halls, it’s metal haunted hull, screams of pain and sorrow aboard it’s cavernous ruins echo still with a dark slumber, as the ship tell of unseen cruelty within it’s hearth. For aboard it, on the Telletruss, laid what could be seen as ghosts, fiends of the netherworld lingering on in the physical realms. But only darkness crept in their hearts; nothing but it’s slow and painful entrance into the bleak galaxy he lived in. Nothing, was as cruel to him, nor nothing could be as dark and malicious as the great pain he suffered. Nothing.
Upon his last escapade, his darkest hour, he crept into the shadows, and bled through his mind as he was tortured by his past, sleeping in a dark slumber of torment, chained behind the bindings of his own legions. Nothing could have stopped him for that momentous second of glory, until it was stripped away in mocking agony, for not even the power of the Lords of Chaos could help him, not the many alliances he held within his grasp. He needed to bleed new blood; he needed to start afresh, and nothing better to do than to escape his past behind into the unknown void. Yet there were some things, that he could not leave behind. His alliances with the many powers like his own, his thirst for strength, and the fear he swept when his fleets entered into their realms. Nothing was worth so much as that. But then, it could be nothing more, nothing less.
Aboard the Telletruss, aboard it’s dark and cavernous pits, stood aboard it’s bridge the crowned Lord of the Galaxy’s shadowed Empire. From behind the scenes, where nobody knew, he ruled the darkness. He kept his army ever on the move. His name, lost long ago by time, for he only goes by the name of Totalius, the creeping darkness that gives the Telletruss it’s haunting visage. The ghosts were his legions; pale soldiers who swore fealty and loyalty to his throng, only to be turned into his weapons of darkness, of mass destruction against never-ending foes. His slaves, dark servants of his will, carry out his orders through the puppet like movements that mirrored his gauntlets, his ghostly remains of a hand, his saber still dangling on his belt, as he stood in contemplation, watching the stars. “A new start.” He commanded to himself, he wanted a new fresh prey to feed upon. A new blood to be spilt in the name of chaos. To find new riches and to destroy new enemies, forge new alliances and start an Empire anew. That was his wish.
Immediately, Totalius commanded his legions to enter into the darkness of the void, to travel through it’s large tunnels of light, headed towards the great void, where no stars laid, only the graveyard of planets and people long lost. It was here, he would begin his roam to reach another galaxy, to craft a darker empire. In an instant, he was thrown into the strong pull of a large star, as it commanded his presence around it’s filthy gaseous atmospheric rays, summoning his presence ever closer to it’s fiery, blazing heart. “Full thrust into opposite directions.” He told his workers, as they began to bring the Telletruss out of the strong hold, the grip star no longer reaching towards them, Totalius rasping in a proud accomplishment. His legions would come; they would know of what to expect, for came their first planet – the first diamond in a ring of planets, to be crafted and destroyed by the Moving Throne, the legions of Catastrophe.
A swift wave first initially swung about the atmosphere, lunging themselves into the heart of the enemy, lasers firing and rifles lit ablaze, illuminating the scene of the scorching battlefield as the monstrous robots lurked aboard the fields, machines and missiles flying in every direction, lead still spraying the air, his servants slashing into their warm kept hearts, the blood gruesomely licked out of the body and onto the plants, staining the perfect green grass as they grew. Massive rings of capital ships descended from the thick of space, from his fleet, they came, plunging into the ground, seismic waves caused aboard the planet, fires raging and green grass scorched. Cannons firing as the shockwaves impounded, the invading infantry only quickly swept across the battlefields against poorly organized and undeveloped savages. With a quick leap into the forefront of battle, Totalius watched as his armies crushed the last of the machines roaming about the lands, and began to split his units into squads. “I want them all killed, every single living savage killed. Any sentient being capable of communication with any of us are to be enslave. Any powerful beings be trained into the warriors of the next generation fleet. Understood?” He rasped to his Generals, as they, gaunt and void of emotion as he, nodded softly in recognition, preparing to launch swift fire across the planet.
Originally, the grass plains held secret underground caverns of unbelievable resistance, but nothing but rebels they seemed to be. The mission was to capture and kill, not to occupy. So their battles were in vain. Their fight was to save their planet, and it was beyond save now. Fires would be spread across it’s surface, scorch marks as large as continents would scrape it’s features. Entire islands were to be made into glass, and the flames would burn ever still. Cannons roared with intensity, blasts of energy launching into the ground, earthquakes and waves of furious storms afflicting this peaceful planet’s surface, firestorms raging across it’s ends. As the legions began to rip it’s way across the planet’s surface, the green grass burnt and the ice melt from the intense, the animals screeching as the heat became unbearable, the planet fell in a small time.
Only a little while did it take, not more than a few weeks, it seemed. They were pathetic, to every degree. Should every planet be like this, then there would be nothing to worry about in Totalius’ conquer for power, for an empire of darkness. For he had already crafted his first prize from the weak, and now he intended to move forwards into the galaxy, crushing the planets as he traveled on. Yet during his entrance into the finalised construction of the Academy of Catastrophe, one of many strewn across the old empire of shadow, he saw something he did not think he saw; up in the sky, his bleak eyes only made out the small contortion of what would be foreign ships. In the first time since his blitzing war, he was worried that there may be more of them hiding throughout the galaxy, a rivalling empire that sought to crush his influence.
Sending out scouts, they could only come back with the photographs and short schematics, showing them to Totalius aboard his new throne as he crept up his military, and enslaved the unworthy populace. The photos, as they were, seemed to irritate him, and then again, convulse him. For they were, unmistakeably from the Empire of Zactarn Prime, an ally he left long ago in his conquest. What could they be doing here? In all of places? That was what he wondered, sitting atop his throne, watching and commanding the destruction of the planet.
Aboard it’s dark and creeping edge, the icy cold breeze of the frost of pain, darkness permeating it’s steel marrow, the spinal backbone of it’s legions, cold and unforgiving. Alongside it’s shallow stone halls, it’s metal haunted hull, screams of pain and sorrow aboard it’s cavernous ruins echo still with a dark slumber, as the ship tell of unseen cruelty within it’s hearth. For aboard it, on the Telletruss, laid what could be seen as ghosts, fiends of the netherworld lingering on in the physical realms. But only darkness crept in their hearts; nothing but it’s slow and painful entrance into the bleak galaxy he lived in. Nothing, was as cruel to him, nor nothing could be as dark and malicious as the great pain he suffered. Nothing.
Upon his last escapade, his darkest hour, he crept into the shadows, and bled through his mind as he was tortured by his past, sleeping in a dark slumber of torment, chained behind the bindings of his own legions. Nothing could have stopped him for that momentous second of glory, until it was stripped away in mocking agony, for not even the power of the Lords of Chaos could help him, not the many alliances he held within his grasp. He needed to bleed new blood; he needed to start afresh, and nothing better to do than to escape his past behind into the unknown void. Yet there were some things, that he could not leave behind. His alliances with the many powers like his own, his thirst for strength, and the fear he swept when his fleets entered into their realms. Nothing was worth so much as that. But then, it could be nothing more, nothing less.
Aboard the Telletruss, aboard it’s dark and cavernous pits, stood aboard it’s bridge the crowned Lord of the Galaxy’s shadowed Empire. From behind the scenes, where nobody knew, he ruled the darkness. He kept his army ever on the move. His name, lost long ago by time, for he only goes by the name of Totalius, the creeping darkness that gives the Telletruss it’s haunting visage. The ghosts were his legions; pale soldiers who swore fealty and loyalty to his throng, only to be turned into his weapons of darkness, of mass destruction against never-ending foes. His slaves, dark servants of his will, carry out his orders through the puppet like movements that mirrored his gauntlets, his ghostly remains of a hand, his saber still dangling on his belt, as he stood in contemplation, watching the stars. “A new start.” He commanded to himself, he wanted a new fresh prey to feed upon. A new blood to be spilt in the name of chaos. To find new riches and to destroy new enemies, forge new alliances and start an Empire anew. That was his wish.
Immediately, Totalius commanded his legions to enter into the darkness of the void, to travel through it’s large tunnels of light, headed towards the great void, where no stars laid, only the graveyard of planets and people long lost. It was here, he would begin his roam to reach another galaxy, to craft a darker empire. In an instant, he was thrown into the strong pull of a large star, as it commanded his presence around it’s filthy gaseous atmospheric rays, summoning his presence ever closer to it’s fiery, blazing heart. “Full thrust into opposite directions.” He told his workers, as they began to bring the Telletruss out of the strong hold, the grip star no longer reaching towards them, Totalius rasping in a proud accomplishment. His legions would come; they would know of what to expect, for came their first planet – the first diamond in a ring of planets, to be crafted and destroyed by the Moving Throne, the legions of Catastrophe.
A swift wave first initially swung about the atmosphere, lunging themselves into the heart of the enemy, lasers firing and rifles lit ablaze, illuminating the scene of the scorching battlefield as the monstrous robots lurked aboard the fields, machines and missiles flying in every direction, lead still spraying the air, his servants slashing into their warm kept hearts, the blood gruesomely licked out of the body and onto the plants, staining the perfect green grass as they grew. Massive rings of capital ships descended from the thick of space, from his fleet, they came, plunging into the ground, seismic waves caused aboard the planet, fires raging and green grass scorched. Cannons firing as the shockwaves impounded, the invading infantry only quickly swept across the battlefields against poorly organized and undeveloped savages. With a quick leap into the forefront of battle, Totalius watched as his armies crushed the last of the machines roaming about the lands, and began to split his units into squads. “I want them all killed, every single living savage killed. Any sentient being capable of communication with any of us are to be enslave. Any powerful beings be trained into the warriors of the next generation fleet. Understood?” He rasped to his Generals, as they, gaunt and void of emotion as he, nodded softly in recognition, preparing to launch swift fire across the planet.
Originally, the grass plains held secret underground caverns of unbelievable resistance, but nothing but rebels they seemed to be. The mission was to capture and kill, not to occupy. So their battles were in vain. Their fight was to save their planet, and it was beyond save now. Fires would be spread across it’s surface, scorch marks as large as continents would scrape it’s features. Entire islands were to be made into glass, and the flames would burn ever still. Cannons roared with intensity, blasts of energy launching into the ground, earthquakes and waves of furious storms afflicting this peaceful planet’s surface, firestorms raging across it’s ends. As the legions began to rip it’s way across the planet’s surface, the green grass burnt and the ice melt from the intense, the animals screeching as the heat became unbearable, the planet fell in a small time.
Only a little while did it take, not more than a few weeks, it seemed. They were pathetic, to every degree. Should every planet be like this, then there would be nothing to worry about in Totalius’ conquer for power, for an empire of darkness. For he had already crafted his first prize from the weak, and now he intended to move forwards into the galaxy, crushing the planets as he traveled on. Yet during his entrance into the finalised construction of the Academy of Catastrophe, one of many strewn across the old empire of shadow, he saw something he did not think he saw; up in the sky, his bleak eyes only made out the small contortion of what would be foreign ships. In the first time since his blitzing war, he was worried that there may be more of them hiding throughout the galaxy, a rivalling empire that sought to crush his influence.
Sending out scouts, they could only come back with the photographs and short schematics, showing them to Totalius aboard his new throne as he crept up his military, and enslaved the unworthy populace. The photos, as they were, seemed to irritate him, and then again, convulse him. For they were, unmistakeably from the Empire of Zactarn Prime, an ally he left long ago in his conquest. What could they be doing here? In all of places? That was what he wondered, sitting atop his throne, watching and commanding the destruction of the planet.