NationStates Jolt Archive

Drop pods rained upon the mountains and caves of the Cathedral of the Seers; a desolate spot at the far galactic rim, wherein seven prophets and seers spun the webs of men's destiny. Some claimed a book spoke to them; pages bound in faded ancient leather; pages of musty paper, beholding the truth of all lives; the paths each and every living being must take...Their eventual fates.

The stained glass ceiling shattered into a million facets of a grander whole; a million puzzle pieces, alive with dancing fire; outside, the Siege was on, hell disgorged from weapons; the pounding of artillery like the steady beat of a drum. The glass tumbled, almost beautiful, as the figure moved amongst them; heavy power-armor clad body impacting the ground, the blades; Lifesbane and Worldrender at his side.; rising; beholding the being sat upon the throne; sightless eyes gazing out, percieving, comprehending.

"Remiel, thrice-damned, Son of Marcus the bloodied and forlorn; Master of an Empire of steel and machination; of an Imperium of blood and bone; doomed to walk the long forsaken path; doomed to wield the Hellswords, twain; damned by all the Lords of Chaos; servant, aye and slave, to the Masters of Entropy. You besiege my world; you come before me, seeking answers...To questions you cannot comprehend."

"Six of the prophets lie dead, ArchSeer; you remain the last. You endure by my will alone, and so I would dispense with games. Tell me what I wish to know."

"You are a servant of Chaos; you exist only to bring their will upon this plane, and to be rewarded. Even now, worlds change and burn and bleed by your actions, there the rule of Chaos is absolute....yet even Chaos has a master."

"A Master to Chaos?"

"Balance; young De Drakan. Balance. The Balance is eternal; no matter how oft Chaos rages against Law, or Law binds Chaos. There will always be the Balance. That is, unless you would see the Balance undone..."

"Perhaps. Perhaps I am ready"

"Ready? Oh child; you do not even begin to comprehend..."

Bump

(Check your Telegrams, Chronosia.)

"Ever does Chaos rage against Law, young Remiel; ever does the balance seeth and change; for the hand that guides it decides which weight shall be the greater; which shall have the more power upon the material Plane. The Capricious and Arrogant lords of Chaos know you; they see you as a champion; for they are more numerous than the four you worship...Yet their favor can fade; if you do not pursue the true purpose."

"And how can I better serve them? How can I aid Chaos and her designs upon this plane? How can I undo the great Balance, that Chaos might rule unimpeded across worlds and voids."

"You must seek out allies; unite Chaos as a single force; unite it as a grand force, greater than any the universe has seen; to better lay low the ranks of order. You must call forth aid from the realms supernatural; daemons and their ilk. The Lords of Chaos will favor you with their affections and their presence. Let worlds burn, tumble and bleed; Remiel; let your grand damnation stalk the stars themselves to nightmare.

A chuckle, wry and ponderous slipped from Remiel's perfectly formed lips; as he regarded the High Seer and his message with almost baleful glee. A grander war than had ever been known; the stars themselves burning in righteous flame.

"I have taken the liberty of sending summons to your allies in Chaos, Remiel Oath-breaker; I have called them forth that matters can be discussed. Summon your self-declared Lords of Chaos; your allies, to your side. Let them join you in a battle the likes of which reality has never before witnessed. Yet beware..."

"Beware what, Seer?"

"Just as I serve you in this matter; as eyes and ears upon the planar wind; so to can the forces of Law tap such sources; some will be called to oppose you; some will stand where others fall and yield to you. The mightiest of them shall think themselves grander than all the glories of entropy and change..."

"And at this time the brazon god of war cast up a great lord to lead the savages forth" -The Book of War

"And there shall come a time; of worlds, hanging in the balance; a time of strife and salvation. For the hand of Chaos shall touch a thousand worlds, and they shall burn. Man shall be remade and redeemed, and the Champion of Chaos shall lead each and every warrior. They shall fight as though they sought the gates of Hell itself; they shall unleash the Lords of the Higher Planes. Now for Arioch, now for Pyaray, now for Balan and Mulak; now for Chardros! You are that Lord, Remiel De Drakan; I name thee thrice-cursed, Oath-breaker! Damned one and Destiny-bound!"

Energy seemed to dance in multi-colored ribbons about Remiel as he stood; transfixed. It was as though ever possibility in the universe flowed through him; for a glorious moment he understood; his death and ressurection; Chaos in the larger sense. It was not merely bloodlust and perversion, nor simply disease and decay, or change and evolution. It was the hallowed forces of entropy and endless possibility. Was that what the Eight Pointed Star symbolised? Endless possibilities? Limitless changes upon the material plane...Yes.

"I accept my duties, Seer. I accept the power offered me, I drink deeply of that cup; I shall set the universe to burning for Chaos, I shall fight the forces of Law and Order who dare to oppose me. In me there can be no good, nor any true evil; there is only Chaos. There is only Entropy; Progression; limitless vistas of perception."

"You see as I do, Remiel; with a thousand eyes, a thousand ideas, yet one true vision. The furtherment of the power of Chaos."

"I shall set the worlds to burning..."

"...And the sky itself shall bleed."

The blades thrummed and stirred at his sides, mewling and purring; the dancing nectar of chaos seemed to feed them, to entice them to thought and action. He drew them almost without thinking, advancing.

"Your sight passes to me, Seer. Your part in this is fulfilled..."

"One last prophecy, great Master of Chaos."

"Speak."

"Bound by black blades of alien steel, chained by destiny, enamoured by fate; the Lord shall rise, while others all about him fall. The universe shall be in the hands of Chaos; and all shall serve the Masters of Entropy; but beware the champions of Law; for at every turn they shall harass and stymie; leave no citadel loyal to the White Lords, leave no guardian of balance in their greyish garb to live..."

"...So it is prophesied, so it shall be" And he plunged the hungry hellswords into the prophet's heart; feeling life and soul leeched away, to better feed and strengthen him. He laughed slightly, maddeningly drunk, tenaciously insane; while the scream of the last great Seer of Chaos echoed upon the fetid winds of this world.

The Eight Arrowed sign of Chaos was manifest upon the canvas of the sky; Remiel sat, whispering ancient incantations, movements of his hand dispersing herbs upon the winds....Reality rent and burned; the seas boiled and threshed and caught aflame, as the damned fleets of Chaos rose from the depths; as the powers of Chaos wrought their work...

This was nothing. This was a beginning, as in all things...

ooc: How Open you have roles for everyone or is this just take a stance and fight it?

Tag for later responce. I would like to get involved....

[Taggage]

{Official Falcanian Tag} because my subscription tool is buggered.

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=10438502#post10438502

OOC thread for OOC discussion and questions/ideas for plot.

Bump

The Heart of chaos always beat that the core this Planet. Not black but negative, like chaos, is stirred the most evil things of the fragile human soul, tickling the denizens of the warp. The scribes of the Order of Law could say they owned this system, if they wished. Any incursion by law would be dealt with, only to be obliterated.

The Trinary star system supported itself, Moons with endless resources, hive worlds teeming with the followers of Chaos Undivided and the Factories to forge the weapons of war. Once home to the vilest of Marauder Clans; Tanks were the new warhorse, but a good axe was never in short supply. Powered by gas for a moving serrated edge, or pulsing with unnatural energies to tear through any armor.

The wait for war was over, the skies pulsed with rage, excess, sickness and change. While Tyle Verigon was the warrior who would lead these worlds, he waited for a sign, a symbol and a herald of the four winds who would wipe away balance in favor of Chaos Undiluted.

Tyle was poerful in the arts of chaos and atunned to the will of his powerful masters. A being of reknown, a chosen one of the four great gods. A name whispered; Remiel.

Tyle had waited and was rewarded, the Herald of Chaos Undivided had called his name, to sate his thirst for hunger. The might and will of the berserker chaos children that teemed over his sytem would destoy in the name of the eight points. His armored colums would march, destroy, march again and raise chaos. His name would be feared outside his own system now, those who would follow law would see the blood red of Khorne, feel the excess of pain and pleaseure of Slannesh, would rot at Nurgles pox and be twisted my Tzeenches will to chage all. His mighty fist would crush the skulls of knights in shinning armor, bloodied and gored, he would leave a wake of distruction. Loyal to chaos, loyal to the chosen of chaos, loyal to the ultimate order; death.

Chaos, in a sense, was an everyday part in the Ships. The men who inhabited them were ruffians, doing as they please. The only thing separating them from unity and total anarchy was Stowes. A man of greed and self-absorption, Stowes would be easy to turn to Chaos. This man was a man of power, and any power would do for him.

Once an enemy of the Chronosian Imperium, Stowes has always admired them from afar. To control others with a force based on random events was a show of power that Stowes longed for. But Stowes is a coward. He is afraid to lose what he is and what he has. But Stowes is an ignorant man who knows little of his world, when so much is before him. He has no idea of the possibilities that he not only has, but what he is.

Kao’Tu could sense the trouble within the General-Admiral. Chaos itself was on the move, and it was reaching out to Stowes. As a being of Balance, Kao’Tu could not allow Stowes to turn to Chaos or Law. He knew he had to turn him to Order. But Stowes is a stubborn man, and Kao’Tu’s people banned the learning of mind control or direct mind influence all together. Kao’Tu would use Stowes’s personality against him. H would use Stowes’s cowardice and greed to make sure that this man would not turn to Chaos. But first, Kao’Tu knew, that he had to prevent the Imperium from reaching Stowes in such a way.

The mind could hardly comprehend or better yet defend against the wave of pure evil that spread through the galaxy. It was like a flame in a place of all darkness, a great beacon of red fire had been lit.

Darth Polarus burst quickly back into reality from his meditation. His breathing was shallow and his heart was racing.

What was that I felt? It was pure...entirely pure evil.

Polarus shook his head and stood. He quickly dressed in his long black robes and exited his meditation chamber to enter his surrogate throne room. It had a high ceiling and was large. A great seat of black obsidian stone sat at the center raised on a dias.

Stormtroopers stood at attention at designated spots along the side of the chamber, all the way along the 300 paces to the great doors to the room. Polarus sat and considered what he had felt in that moment.

It was a force much stronger than any I felt when my master was alive...could it be a riencarnation? No, I would have felt something sooner. No...this is all together different. Something even more sinister that I, a Sith Master, was not able to sense until It reached a profound peek of power.

Polarus pushed a comms device on his chair. "Admiral Qwade, enter please." The great doors at the end of the chamber came open and a solitary figure walked through them. Qwade was a tall man and broad of shoulder. His olive grey admiral's uniform almost seemed to ill-fit him. But he was a master tactician and the commander of Polarus's Imperial Fleet, the remnants rather.

The tall admiral stepped forward and bowed. "My Lord."

"I want my fleet readied. All ships. You are to organize it and see to its provision. Be quick, I may have to leave at a moments notice."

"Yes my Lord," said Qwade. He bowed again and turned smartly on his heel.

An evil...one that could unballance everything.

Remiel sat, alone upon the empty throne of the dead prophet; deep in his own secret meditations. The universe seemed to stretch before him; stars like tongues of fire dancing in limitless void; worlds circling like moths about candleflames, teasing the air with their motions. he sighed, softly; beholding creation and destruction, the entire formation of the balance, of the fabric, of the order. But there was also Chaos. Chaos upon the winds of change; a vast, sweeping hand. That hand was his; and as he traced it across the tapestry of reality; he chuckled. It ran like tar about his fingers; set to burning about his caress.

His mind called, a sirens song to all who would hear him; a whispered hiss or a roaring battlecry. Come, it said. Come to this orb, this world of prophecy and secrets, and I shall tell you what is to come. Come one, come all; all who would serve Chaos and Discord and Entropy. This was their will; his will. He groaned; power teasing through his mortal frame. He saw with the eyes of scrying prophecy now; the gift of foresight; not a perfect sight, but enough to dictate that which must come. The road was long, painful. Much would have to be done and undone...

But there was time for that later; now; beginnings were what mattered...

Come he said, yes. Tyle and a small part of his host would greet the Harold of Chaos on the world that bekoned them.

They would bow, then request the honor to speahead the invasion of unbalance. They, the truly devoted would unbalance the galaxy, pure Chaos Undevided, The four winds would kill many worlds in sacrafice to their desires. High Explosive and Armor would go greet the pathetic lap dogs of Law, in it's plenty. The cybernetic right fist cracled with unatural energy, blessed by the gods, His axe would rend through any armor or shielding, a gift from a blood deamon.

the war cry of Chaos shook the star system, War would sate their thirst for blood and battle, they would stand on the broken bodies to those loyal to balance and lift their heads, their trophies alot in the air.

A small craft whent into the belly of the battle ship, through the warp they would go and great Ramiel as a brother, a father, the one who would bring them closer to chaos...

"Yes. On my authority, set up the Plasma Dischargers. Yes, I'll fry my own citizens if they try to move in on our territory, and don't press the button unless they know about it. You understand? Good."
General Stowes severed the line and wiped his brow. He had been feeling sick as of late and had several disturbing visions. He would see a shrink before he went to bed.

He had the repair centers cehck in one more time to see how the upgrades to the Tigerlan Seperatist ships were going along. Nothing specil to report except a small accident that caused a few severed limbs, nothing a few robotics can't handle. Stowes was feeling so miserable by this time he decided to skip the shrink appointment and just go to bed.

Around 3:00 Standard time, Stowes woke up rather abruptly and walked to the bridge of the Panrabia where he hailed Zheng AoLi.
"Yes, General-Admiral?" Zheng asked.
"Zheng, what are your fleets' present positions?"
"We're finishing up some trades around Ersatia, why? And sir, to be frank, you don't look so good."
"I want you to position your entire Demi-Fleet in the Cluster and defend it. I'm taking my half to the Perseus Arm."
"The Perseus Arm? Why?"
"Don't question me. Just do it."
"All right. I'll be there in two hours."

Stowes went and saw a psychiatrist while he waited and had the fleet readied to leave. Stowes didn't know why he ordered the movement of the entire Pananab fleet, he just did it. The psychiatrist told him he was just having an axiety attack. Too much stress, not enough time to deal with it. Stowes went back to sleep as the First Pananab Demi Fleet moved near Fedral Union space and did a bit of trading and pirating.

Pawns were moving, whether they knew it or not; they were pawns. Pieces in a great game that few would truly understand. Chaos and Order sat upon the board, the board was the galaxy; perhaps even the universe; the plane itself? It mattered little as to scale;what mattered was that it was beginning; the game.

The lines were being drawn, the forces arrayed in varying patterns; moves plotted, strategies drawn up; this was the time of planning, of preperation. And as visions and violence haunted minds across the 'verse; one man rested peacefully; his mind alive with carnal fire as he indulged and slaked his lusts, one by one upon the surface of that prophetic orb. Sacrifices raged day and night, pyres burned with bodies; altars ran red with blood; till Remiel and his acolytes were slick with the lifesblood of countless....

This was when the night came down, shadows looming like foul apparition; howling and screaming in the audient void. This was the culmination of his efforts, the finalisation of his dream. He would taste divinity; he would do Their will, and the universe would burn, and bleed, and rot.

Follow the call, my followers, follow it to its source. At there you shall find another one who serves Chaos and its void.

The malignant black ship ripped through space, near its destination, the source of the call.

Time was theory, especially in the warp, wether centuries of nano seconds had passed, it mattered little as Tyle's stomach recovered from the wrentching feeling he had. The psychotic pilot who guided them was foaming at the mouth, he would be wasted then just as easily replaced.

The Prophet World that had spoken to Tyle in his visions swirld beneath him. A smile, chaos was at hand. His mighty cybernetic arm crackled in Chaos' blessing. "A loyal servent I am, stupid I am not, but truely forever loyal. My Master's are the Dark Gods, I follow their Chosen; My Commander." The Pilot, still foaming, walked by and Tyle gripped his neck, his head popped off like a grape, so suddenly that blood spurted from the severed artaries for a few moments after.

Finnaly a shuttle had been prepared, for Tyle to offer his alliegence to the Dark Gods and support their chosen son in battle.

And you are welcome, misbegotten son. Serve me, serve Chaos and the tyrant gods that rule it, not merely the four mongrel gods whom you have heard tell of; come hear of beautiful capricious Arioch! Of mighty Pyaray and his fleets of the dead; come and hear the thrice-damned whispers of a mind that serves utterly the forces of Entropy. Join me, stand by my side, and we shall lay low the ramparts of existence itself; the glories of endless change shall bless and blight the universe; and we shall see a new age dawn. We shall undo the Balance.

And you are welcome, misbegotten son. Serve me, serve Chaos and the tyrant gods that rule it, not merely the four mongrel gods whom you have heard tell of; come hear of beautiful capricious Arioch! Of mighty Pyaray and his fleets of the dead; come and hear the thrice-damned whispers of a mind that serves utterly the forces of Entropy. Join me, stand by my side, and we shall lay low the ramparts of existence itself; the glories of endless change shall bless and blight the universe; and we shall see a new age dawn. We shall undo the Balance.

OOC: Very nice Chrono.... you're very good at the 40k Rping. It sounds just like it.

The black ship approached the planet, merely pinging the planet.

OOC: Why thank you, I do try. Are you 40k based? If so, maybe I could join your exporation thread?

IC:

The voice boomed and echoed even within the Black Ship; a twisted malicious psychic whisper. Remiel held utter sway here; a tyrant lord of Chaos, the world and its denizens bent to his will; the message rendered upon minds by his thoughts alone. He held power here, he held sway, and now he called them forth; down to the black surface of the world; to hear prophecy and see truth. To be gifted with the touch of Chaos and to know its ways. Those ways were coming; ready to seeth and spill across the galactic plane like the blood that would spill from the genesis of such a plan.

Chaos was come upon the material plane; here was its instrument, its hand; beckoning those who shared its vision to come forth, and drink of its power.

The Imperial Star Destroyer smashed out of hyperspace with more than normal speed. It had advanced through hyperspace at full possible speed. Two assault cruisers came out of hyperspace beside it. They had arrived over a great black-brown sphere of a planet.

"We've reached the designated coordinates captain," said the Helm officer. The captain nodded.

"Has CommScan detected anything?"

"No sir, other than the planet, no sign of any ships foreign or ours," reported the CommScan operator.

"Very well," said the captain. He turned on his heel and marched back to the rear of the bridge where Admiral Qwade sat in the command chair.

"Sir, we have reached the coordinates that Lord Polarus gave us."

Qwade's huge frame shook slightly as he looked at the captain. He nodded. "Very well, I will alert our Lord."


Qwade stepped through the doors into the command room of the ship. Lord Polarus had had it converted to a personal meditation room. Darth Polarus himself sat in the center upon a black silk cushioned dias. Polarus his skin pale and hair night black sat motionless with his eyes closed.

Qwade bowed. "My Lord?"

Polarus opened his eyes. They were spheres of pure blackness. "Yes Admiral?"

"We've reached the destination of the coordinates you gave us," said Qwade, he shifted slightly as he stood there. Even after 10 years he was still uncomfortable with Polarus's eyes.

Polarus smiled. It didn't really suite him. "Good, ready my shuttle."

"Yes my Lord."



The Lamba suttle followed by two troop transports came to rest upon the ground, a bog and swampy place. Polarus had picked the landing spot. It was exactly where he wanted it to be.

He walked down the ramp of the ship and watched as his stormtroopers came down their troop transport ramps and automatically went into formation, they fixed positions and readied for anything that might attack, for them, on an unknown planet.

Dromund Kaas thought Polarus. My Master would be surprised but then he did give me the coordinates for emergencies. Polarus turned to Admiral Qwade who had come down with him.

"Remain here, I will proceed alone." Qwade simply bowed. Polarus wrapped his black cloak closer around him and walked forward into the mist. He felt to his belt and made sure his lightsaber was still there then went on more confidently.

Dromund Kaas. It was a practically unknown planet to the outside universe. Polarus's master, Emperor Palpatine, Count Dooku, and Kadaan were the only other ones to ever know of its location. And they were all dead.

Polarus had been taught by his master about how Dromund Kaas had become the home of a dissenchanted group of Sith long before the clone wars, long before even the Old Republic. Darth Millennial had founed his order on the planet, well within boundaries of the original Sith Empire. On this hostile and foreboding world, he established his own derivative of the Jedi and Sith's Force, which came to be known as the "Dark Force." On this isolated planet, this cult survived for almost 1000 years, diverging from traditional Sith teachings and plumbing the depths of the dark side in many ways. Becoming the Prophets of the Dark Side. While Palpatine had taken most of them off the planet and set them into his New Order, there were those who had supposedly still remained.

The ones Polarus were looking for.

Degenerate shadows moved upon Drummond Kaas. Long ago, the Chronosian Sith Lord, Chronos, had come to this benighted world in search of grander power; power that would eventually lead him to the Valley of the Jedi. Drummond Kaas, Korriban, Yavin; these ancient holy places of the Sith had felt his touch; but that had been long ago. In the days following his betrayal, loyal elements had remained here, when Nightshade had taken the army; loyal Sith warriors now rendered twisted and malignant by the dark power of the place; changed...

"They come..." One giggled, gurgling as it watched them, stepping forth from the shadow. Lightsabers hung from its belt, the result of cannibalistic battles against its kin, the trophies of soul bought glories. Tattered robes hung like rent flesh from his bent form, eyes gleamed red and whispers seemed to flit about him. "They come to seek power, they want to stop the dark Brother; but they know not what they do. Do you? Do you know how far you must fall to match him? What must be sacrificed?"

Polarus travelled warily through the swamp. He was letting his senses guide him. In his minds eye he saw a great beacon before him, a pillar of Dark Force power concentrated. It was his destination.

Polarus wasn't sure when he sensed them, but when he did he did not act on it. Two at least he was sure of, others locations were more difficult. Polarus felt his lightsaber again, feeling the polished black-sun steel. He smiled at the memory of having made it, one of his first achievements as a padawan learner under Palpatine and Darth Maul.


He continued on for nearly a full hour when he reached the beacon of Dark Force power. There in the midst of fog and smoke several stories tall was a large stone temple. It was gigantic. Vines, plants, and moss coated its walls like a blanket. Water sloshed at its steps. It had a great central stair-case that led up past two 20 meter giants of stone, each a cloaked and hooded figure, as if guarding against the entrance of those unworthy to enter into the temples depths.

Polarus walked up 20 steps and then stopped at the flatter area. He unclicked his cloak and let it fall from his shoulders. As slow as if in ceremony he took his lightsaber in his hands and turned on his heal. There below him where two figures standing in the fog below the steps.

Polarus ignited his lightsaber, both red beams extending from either end in humming fury, and took his favoured fighting stance.

"You would challenge a Sith Lord?" Polarus called in the ancient tongue. "You would deny me my right to enter?"

OOC: Why thank you, I do try. Are you 40k based? If so, maybe I could join your exporation thread?

IC:

The voice boomed and echoed even within the Black Ship; a twisted malicious psychic whisper. Remiel held utter sway here; a tyrant lord of Chaos, the world and its denizens bent to his will; the message rendered upon minds by his thoughts alone. He held power here, he held sway, and now he called them forth; down to the black surface of the world; to hear prophecy and see truth. To be gifted with the touch of Chaos and to know its ways. Those ways were coming; ready to seeth and spill across the galactic plane like the blood that would spill from the genesis of such a plan.

Chaos was come upon the material plane; here was its instrument, its hand; beckoning those who shared its vision to come forth, and drink of its power.

You see my children? Another one who has given itself to the forces of Chaos. Another like you.

The ship speed down to the planet's surface, leveling out before it landed using th EM field to slow itslef down and hover. Below it, 5 beings were lowered down. Thre were massive, hulking brutes, utterly black as tall as two men. They had a mass of flesh as a head, with eye tsalke and a tear a part of it. They had a slit running down their chest, while they possessed fists of tentacles and feet of flexible appendages. Two were covered in black armor, while the other was covered in a more elaborate version. The other two beings were very small, covered in light blue-green robes, exluding their heads which were covered in a helmet which allowed their large eyes to be seen and was connected to a mass of machinery on their apparent chest. The elaborate robed one gave a series of moans before sending a psychic message.

Sooo, Reeeemiiiieeeel wheeree shaal weee gooo?

OOC: Bump

Tyle Had made landfall easily. To the dead Prophet's throne, to the new Prophets throne.

He wanted to meet, his commander as soon as possible, the temple were his General took the life of a Prophet, who's death had awaken his inner most chaos sence.

His escort was simply two Chaos Marines, gifts from a defeated champion. They were The Plasma Brothers, and had by themselves defeated one of Tyle's greatest armored Colums, a decent loss for the protection they provided.

"This reminds me of a Word Bearer's world I once took does it not?" Smiling. his escorts remembering the carnage they delt. "All blood, guts and stone."

He saught the throne of his Master of the Material Plane. His energy a clear marker were he would find him and soon.

bump...

bump

*kicks Chron in the arse* Bump

OOC: This is primarily to just develop some of the characters traits and history of my First Magnate, however, it'd be nice if my constructions could kill a few important servants, or so on.

The Magnate stood. As ruler of his world, he had felt something.. strange, recently. His nanoenhancements played havoc with him, the perfect efficiency they had quickly decaying into entropy.

He was a wreck of a man, and ruler of Faross, the New Realm planet closest to Chronosian space. It was troubling, what the Chronosians achived. They had mastered the universe, its puzzles, and could bend matter to their will, create new bodies with but a thought, and yet... This defied all natural order. He could not even contact the First Magnate...


...Meanwhile, the First Magnate, Magnius Exaionae, was equally worried. Not that his power was affected by the decay of order, indeed, he had the power of the Scythe-Lords running through his veins, the pure death killing even chaos around him. He could not cleanse himself of it, but now, it seemed it served a purpose. Many, many years ago, he had ordered a disastrous strike on Chronosia. Now, they were allies. However... This was more than a mere alliance.

This was insanity.

They were situated close to Chronosia, and.. He had received troubling reports of strange happenings, simple reports, not nearly so detailed as he had liked, indeed, one of his spies had simply... disappeared. He was alive, they could determine that, but, at the same time, he was dead!

"All life is balanced on the edge of power..", he muttered, recalling an old platitude. It seemed true. Law sought to end all life, to make a cold, pure universe, of eternal order. Chaos sought to create endless life, abominations, pain, pleasure, and, with it, would destroy any semblance of reality.

He, however, could not act. Not personally. The very nature of Chaos allowed it to manifest directly in the physical world. The cold, rigid nature of Order, however, was completely the opposite. Order was the physical world, and could not break its own laws to give succour to its servants. However, he was not a servant of either of the two ideals.

He stood, his body flowing into the air, giving the sense that he did not move, instead, that the universe moved around him. There was so very, very little he could do. However, a voice sounded, softly, in his head. You could manifest one of us, us, us, us..... Yessss.. We could help you, we could. We could kills the enemy, kill it dead and make it die...

He shut it out of his head, tearing at his skull with insubstantial fingers. They were there, as always. It was a foolish pact, that he made, for power. Maybe... Just maybe, he could play one threat off against another. He spoke into his mind, cringing as he did so. You would kill us all. I have... no choice, though. A tiny conduit.. It would give us all what we desire. That is all I can do.

He collapsed to the floor, screaming as he did so. The massive blast of assent, desire, pleasure, and cruelty that had just hit him was enough to kill a normal human, incinerate the human's mind. As it was... He forced himself to stand up. He translated over to a laboratory, on another planet. "How are the subjects doing?", he asked.

He smiled, and looked at the tanks in which the two subjects were held. Neither of them would occupy the Warmaster of Chaos for a second, at the moment, so innocent and peaceful, they seemed. He sighed, and black fire spread from his fingers. The bodies in the tanks writhed in pain, and then... metamorphosed. They changed. Their angelic faces were cruelly forced into expressions of anger, and desire, their bodies sheathed in black armour, black fire pouring into them from all directions, ripping their delicate forms, and twisting them in horrific ways. The tanks shattered, and they both collapsed onto the floor, their forms becoming hideous even as they did so.

One stood. "Why, thank you, Magnius. You have proved a most willing pet. I am.. Well, I am nameless, in this pitiful universe. I thank you for unleashing me, though."

The other stood, and chuckled. "Unfortunately, it is time for you to die".
It raised its hand, and black fire spat at Magnius. Magnius smiled, and raised his hand. It absorbed the black fire. He spoke, calmly, and evenly. "You really think I'd let you free on my realm without restrictions? For beings that have consumed an entire universe, you really are naive. I have left a tiny conduit to you, the true you, through the universes. In this way, you can do my bidding. I cannot oppose Chaos with fleets, or with technology, but I can face it with raw, primordial power.".

He raised a hand, and black fire spewed onto them both. Magnius looked at it, slightly amused, and changed it to an aesthetically pleasing rose-red. "You see, I've obtained the help of another of your fellows. You will battle against Chaos, for the sweet lifeforce you so desperately seek to snuff out, or you can go back to another fifty trillion years of isolation."

He sighed. "Who knows, if you defeat the threats against me, I may even let you feast on their power. I advise you get moving. A scorned slave is a terrible master".

The two stumbled off, wondering what on earth had happened. They were beings of death, which Magnius had, ironically enough, brought to life. Magnius knew they stood little chance against the myriad forces of Chaos. However, at the very least, they'd stabilise his domain. He sighed, wondering if he'd done the right thing..

ooc: Chron are u ever going to respond?

Remiel pays little heed to the prattlings of the Sith, their inconsequential rantings and ravings about power. The Sith are obsessed with it; almost as much as they enjoy forcing some semblence of order upon their creations. The Empire is a prison; a prison for power that the Sith construct for themselves; upon his throne, he is beyond such things; he scries; he touches the strands of possibility and probability.

He comprehends.

"You have come..." He spoke and his voice boomed and echoed as though the world spoke for him. "You have come, servants of Chaos; and you ask me where we shall go? Where shall I lead you? From one corner of a bastard universe to the other in search of victory and glory for our masters? To sunder the very plane upon which countless walk? That is our glorious mission; that is our appointed task."

"Chronosia."

"What?" Kao'Tu had feared this. He knew that Chaos was pulling him toward it, and Stowes was not a powerful man in the sense he needed to be in order to make his own decisions. Kao'Tu knew he shouldn't interfere as a creature of Balance, which would bias the judgement of Stowes, but he knew he couldn't allow Stowes to fall to Chaos, not when he had so much potential it could unlock to bring about untold horrors when Stowes could be used to prevent such destruction.

"Bring me to Chronosia," Stowes ordered Helm.

"Sir, I beg of you, don't do this to yourself. The power power of the Chronosians will kill you just by being near them!"

Stowes smiled and said, "That's what you're here for. I need to be there."

"Stowes, if you go to Chronosia, you will be-"

"What? 'Pulled to the dark side' or some crap like that? I'll be fine, Kao'Tu. There's something there that I have to find. I don't know what it is, but it's there."

"You'll find more than you reckoned for, Stowes."

The Panrabia, escorted by several other ships, has jumped into orbit around Chronosia. They have made no contact as of yet.

"Chronosia."

"What?" Kao'Tu had feared this. He knew that Chaos was pulling him toward it, and Stowes was not a powerful man in the sense he needed to be in order to make his own decisions. Kao'Tu knew he shouldn't interfere as a creature of Balance, which would bias the judgement of Stowes, but he knew he couldn't allow Stowes to fall to Chaos, not when he had so much potential it could unlock to bring about untold horrors when Stowes could be used to prevent such destruction.

"Bring me to Chronosia," Stowes ordered Helm.

"Sir, I beg of you, don't do this to yourself. The power power of the Chronosians will kill you just by being near them!"

Stowes smiled and said, "That's what you're here for. I need to be there."

"Stowes, if you go to Chronosia, you will be-"

"What? 'Pulled to the dark side' or some crap like that? I'll be fine, Kao'Tu. There's something there that I have to find. I don't know what it is, but it's there."

"You'll find more than you reckoned for, Stowes."

The Panrabia, escorted by several other ships, has jumped into orbit around Chronosia. They have made no contact as of yet.

OOC: Just so you know the planet Remiel's on technically isn't in Chronosian space....

((Stowes is still being pulled to Chronosia. I haven't of why, though. I'll cme up with something.))

OOC: Hmph, well Chronos, looks like I should get in while the gettins good. Technically I've suspended my activity in this galaxy, but who is to say the Trailarii havn't left a few things behind? :o

IC: A small, alien craft slipped in behind the Panabite ships; the immense power of the Traileric farjump partially masked by the Panab vessel's own travel, and (naturally) Traileric stealth machinations. The craft was small, symetrical, and appeared to be covered in a living skin rather than plates of armor. Traileric technology was quite advanced, and equally confounding at times. Nonetheless it was a small transport, capable of holding but a few persons. As it flew foreward, dipping around and amongst the Panabite fleet, those aforementioned mechanisms churned to keep it off the sensor sweeps, not to mention sub-planar vibrations, etc, you get the idea.

OOC: Ahem

OOC: Ahem what? I replied.

OOC: Ahem what? I replied.

OOC: Didn't see it.

Remiel pays little heed to the prattlings of the Sith, their inconsequential rantings and ravings about power. The Sith are obsessed with it; almost as much as they enjoy forcing some semblence of order upon their creations. The Empire is a prison; a prison for power that the Sith construct for themselves; upon his throne, he is beyond such things; he scries; he touches the strands of possibility and probability.

He comprehends.

"You have come..." He spoke and his voice boomed and echoed as though the world spoke for him. "You have come, servants of Chaos; and you ask me where we shall go? Where shall I lead you? From one corner of a bastard universe to the other in search of victory and glory for our masters? To sunder the very plane upon which countless walk? That is our glorious mission; that is our appointed task."

OOC: There; lets proceed, shall we?

Guilt.

With the unexplained absence of the tyrant, the council had come to power again, and now they .. felt guilt. Worlds once beautiful and green had become paved in stone and jewels, they were pleasant in their own right, but they were not.. natural, as they had been before. And so the process had begun, The Guilt ridden council had returned to nature, on some worlds, and were blessing dead worlds with life again.

--------------------------

Lord Jhori meditated in the Grove of Light, Or so it he had called it, the breeze from the mountains flittered through the valley, causing the trees to rustle, and Jhori's hair to move, slightly.

He held in his hand one of the 12 Orbs, yet another of many jewels that served some arcane purpose in the life creation process, and other such things. The orb glowed golden yellow with energy, pulsating, active, Lord Jhori continued to meditate in his grove, this world had been barren, untill he and his people had arrived, with a little modern technology, his prowess, and the orb Kolaes Os Johl, it had blossomed.. grown.

Jhori's eyes suddenly opened wide, piercing blue locked in a peircing gaze, concentrating on nothing corporeal, but looking at .. something. He blinked, and suddenly rose, His Full golden hair showing itself as his ruby coloured robes moved and folded as he came to stand.

Kolaes Os Johl, The Giver of Light, was glowing just as brightly, but it had turned red, Jhori recoiled from an unseen danger, and the orb fell, but it did not shatter, as it merely thudded to the ground, returning to a dull yellow, dormant.

Jhori bent down and picked up his orb, placing it back in the ornately carved wooden box that served as its home. Lord Jhori's elven ears twitched, he heard something, some of the many bushes around the glade rustled as something entered the Grove Of Light, Jhori looked unconcerned, it was but a deer, by the looks of it, exploring.

Jhori looked back at the box, and thought of what he had just seen.. felt.. and shuddered. His mind had touched upon something, and now it knew his allegiance.. He would have to inform the council as soon as possible.

Jhori glanced back at the grove as he began the trek back to the nearest settlement, he paused slightly, remembering the taint that had touched his mind.

"Let us hope all is not lost.." He said quietly, to himself, in some ancient tongue of the elves.

He turnt, and walked again.

'Yes, yes, battle my lord. Let my legions ride over their troops and let my horde's rape their land of their resources and all they hold precious!' Tyle's mouth salivated at the thought of battle. Tyles synaptic link with Remiel was strong now, his messeges were clear and Tyle, impatiant at the best times, was ready to unleash his own chaos.

Through The Warp once more, his system was already gearing up for a total war situation. The hives of his hab planet swelled with criminals, the insane and homicidal, the first wave. His factories produced tanks, munitions, armor and chemical ingrediants that would fuel everyone of his charges. As excessivly as the moons were mined, they still produce copius amounts of ore that would be purified and made into an engine of war.

Tyle's lightning maruader tactics would roll over his enamies, if his supply lines could keep pace with him he would not be stopped. He had the resources and man power to unlesh so much chaos, that the dark gods would bless him with the darkes of gifts and daemons to unlesh upon any foe. The hour of chaos was at hand, and non could stand in his way.

Remiel pays little heed to the prattlings of the Sith, their inconsequential rantings and ravings about power. The Sith are obsessed with it; almost as much as they enjoy forcing some semblence of order upon their creations. The Empire is a prison; a prison for power that the Sith construct for themselves; upon his throne, he is beyond such things; he scries; he touches the strands of possibility and probability.

He comprehends.

"You have come..." He spoke and his voice boomed and echoed as though the world spoke for him. "You have come, servants of Chaos; and you ask me where we shall go? Where shall I lead you? From one corner of a bastard universe to the other in search of victory and glory for our masters? To sunder the very plane upon which countless walk? That is our glorious mission; that is our appointed task."

Hooooow shaaaaall weeee ruuuiiin thisssss plaaaane, Reemiieeel? Byyyy slaauughteeeriiing aaand reeendiiing toooo shreeeeds liiife? Byyyy deeeestroooyyiing eeeeeveeery thiiiing weee coome aaaacroooosss? Ooooor byyyyyy kiiiiling aaaaand eeeeaaaating toooo uuuupseeet ooooouuuur ooooppoooosite?

Tyle came through the warp, ready to muster his men, ready to send his armada to invade the galaxy! The mere opponets of chaos would burn in the face of his unrelenting onslaught!

ooc: ....chron...you've kinda ignored my post reply.

OOC; perhaps because your halfway across the galaxy and ignored my post on Drummond Kaas? I have no time for distractions; you want to be more directly involved? Come to Remiel.

((Chron, you haven't replied to my Flagship coming into orbit around your planet.))

OOC: If ships barraging into your capital planet's local space is not going to bring said ship to Remiel, what will do the trick?

OOC: Actually going to Remiel would do the trick; why do people have to complicate things? he's sending out a psychic signal! *sigh*

IC:

Foreign vessels you have entered Chronosian space; the glorious authority of the Emperor demands that you announce your intent or turn back; we are not those to be trifled with. State your objective; your reason for being here, or by the pestilant gods we shall crush you into dust.

Weapons readied about the crown jewel of the Imperium; Chronosia Prime; with it's moon Chronosian Secundus shimmering and blazing above it in a forge-fury.

You have ten conventional Terran minutes to reply

OOC: Mm'kay. So, meander over to the psy-beacon of our beloved Remiel, or have to play "dodge the planet based fire"..Decisions decisions..

IC:

There was a pause spanning across roughly three minutes. Then, the small craft disengaged it's active stealth and zipped easily out of range of the Panab fleet, taking a stance showing they were of a seperate origin.

We are the Trailarii, the Prophecy is on the brink of being fullfilled. We are here to see the Harbinger, he who is radiating the psychokinetic beacon which has drawn our eye to this wasteland of a galaxy. Bring us to him so that we may hold palavar. Glory to Chaos and the Champion of Pestilence!

Well, that pretty much summed up the Traileric alignment.

Bump

On the Very farthest outskirts of the cluster, Tyle's horde had readied themselves in his time passing through the warp and pleadging his hatred to Remiel.

They would begin raiding the backwater outskirt planets, for fun, the slaves and a proper foothold to invade from. Already an armada was in space ready to rip through reality once more.

Thousands of ships, all armed to the teeth,even those that were transports. The first ships would be a pure strike force, with enough supplies to take control of space air and make propor landfall. The second wave would contain most of the supplies and some reinforcements.

Ripping through the material plane, he saw the first orbs, delicate planets and moons, ripe for the picking and but the first set of targets.

They were slow, their reaction made Tyle sick, a nearly worthless enemy. The type and technology their fleets sported however would make for a good show. His fleets fired upon them and it would be mearly hours before he would own the space and begin landfall.

OOC: Actually going to Remiel would do the trick; why do people have to complicate things? he's sending out a psychic signal! *sigh*

IC:

Foreign vessels you have entered Chronosian space; the glorious authority of the Emperor demands that you announce your intent or turn back; we are not those to be trifled with. State your objective; your reason for being here, or by the pestilant gods we shall crush you into dust.

Weapons readied about the crown jewel of the Imperium; Chronosia Prime; with it's moon Chronosian Secundus shimmering and blazing above it in a forge-fury.

You have ten conventional Terran minutes to reply
Stowes replayed the messgae several times, trying to think of why he was truely here. He gave the bes answer he could: The truth.
"Greetings. I am aware taht my arrival was unannounced. I am on a personal mission to find something that I feel may be here. But perhaps it is not...I apologize for the inconvenience. I may return looking for whatever it may be. I might not. I don't know."

OOC: Bump

The Ship's 'arrayed' against Tyle were turned to debris, to float forever more in endless space. Though there were a few ships still out flying inbetween his armada, hiding like like tiny insects, Tyle's impatience got the better of him.

Boarding a heavy transport he ordered all his ships to begin barraging the planet with the messeges of chaos, telling the planet what he would unleash upon them. Thousands of transports and hundreds of super heavy landers, that carried his armor, would slam onto the firm ground of this forrest planet. The old tall trees, maybe centries old, would burn to a crisp under the armored boot of Tyle's.

The light and uncordinated rocket fire did little then to knock out small and unimportant craft or shake the heavy transports. Tyle could smell the pretrochemicals that raze this planet for the Dark Gods and their chosen, His General.

Polarus travelled warily through the swamp. He was letting his senses guide him. In his minds eye he saw a great beacon before him, a pillar of Dark Force power concentrated. It was his destination.

Polarus wasn't sure when he sensed them, but when he did he did not act on it. Two at least he was sure of, others locations were more difficult. Polarus felt his lightsaber again, feeling the polished black-sun steel. He smiled at the memory of having made it, one of his first achievements as a padawan learner under Palpatine and Darth Maul.


He continued on for nearly a full hour when he reached the beacon of Dark Force power. There in the midst of fog and smoke several stories tall was a large stone temple. It was gigantic. Vines, plants, and moss coated its walls like a blanket. Water sloshed at its steps. It had a great central stair-case that led up past two 20 meter giants of stone, each a cloaked and hooded figure, as if guarding against the entrance of those unworthy to enter into the temples depths.

Polarus walked up 20 steps and then stopped at the flatter area. He unclicked his cloak and let it fall from his shoulders. As slow as if in ceremony he took his lightsaber in his hands and turned on his heal. There below him where two figures standing in the fog below the steps.

Polarus ignited his lightsaber, both red beams extending from either end in humming fury, and took his favoured fighting stance.

"You would challenge a Sith Lord?" Polarus called in the ancient tongue. "You would deny me my right to enter?"


ooc: isn't is a sign of old age when you can't read properly any more? Palp is a friend, and he obviously answered you here Chron. Be so kind as to not be rude to him when he did indeed answer you; even if he didn't take your reply and put it above his in 'quote' marks.

OOC: Bump

Come to me, all who have assembled, join with me on the planets surface; we shall hold palavar, have parley and discuss the coming war on all established order; on all that would fall before us in fire and shadow. We shall rule as capricious lords of Chaos; provided you acknowledge the Master of this scheme. Me

Meanwhile; upon the surface of Drummond Kaas...

"We dare; we serve the true lord of Chaos and Darkness; the lord Chronos who dwells now beyond the stars. We are the last degenerate sons, the last, chosen scions. We to guard the secrets, we to tame it's power. We to be sons and daughters of the Dark. You...You cannot stand against us."

Lightsabers were readied; stances shifted for primal, ancient combat; one grinned, half-mad and gloating. "We shall end you here, usurper."

Without another word, the strange little corvette generated a slipstream and enetered hyperspace, honing in on that beacon that tugged at the collective conciousness of the Trailarii. There were more Traileric ships arriving. Curious nomads, warships that had deserted their patrol route. The Trailarii were a nomadic starfaring race, their civilization stretched in a long line of ships that carried their entire population from one world to the next, devouring resources and oxygen. If an unfortunate culture was established on that world, they simply were eradicated by the firestorm the Trailarii let loose once a planet held no more value. At any rate, ships were splitting off, coming to the beacon like moths to a flame.

Come to me, all who have assembled, join with me on the planets surface; we shall hold palavar, have parley and discuss the coming war on all established order; on all that would fall before us in fire and shadow. We shall rule as capricious lords of Chaos; provided you acknowledge the Master of this scheme. Me

Meanwhile; upon the surface of Drummond Kaas...

"We dare; we serve the true lord of Chaos and Darkness; the lord Chronos who dwells now beyond the stars. We are the last degenerate sons, the last, chosen scions. We to guard the secrets, we to tame it's power. We to be sons and daughters of the Dark. You...You cannot stand against us."

Lightsabers were readied; stances shifted for primal, ancient combat; one grinned, half-mad and gloating. "We shall end you here, usurper."

Weeee aaaacknoooowleeeeedge thaaaat yooouuu aaaaare theeee oooone thaaaaat wiiiiill seeet uuuus oooouuuut uuuupooooon oooouuur scheeeeme. Weee noooow neeeed tooo knooow whaaat tooo dooo.

"Stowes, are you ready to beam to the planet? Stowes?" the General-Admiral's bodygaurd asked, opening his quarter's doors. Stowes was nowhere to be found.
"He isn't anywhere on the ship," Kao'Tu told him, appearing behind him, "He's gone. Remiel has called him. We're in the wrong system."
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"Stowes mistook the calling, and the calling dragged him to Remiel. We shouldn't be here in Chronosian space. I'm taking control of the Squad Fleet. And my first order is to leave the Chronosian system."

"Yes, yes, come to me; I shall give you your instructions. Stay your hands, the time is not yet; not now. There must be preparation; the universe must burn in caprcious fire; must sunder itself in war and tyranny, and only then shall a true paradise await; a paradise of pain and change and unending possiblity. A future of Chaos!" Remiel rose; gesturing to all who would assemble before him. "The Gods have spoken to me; they speak through me, and all I can do is be but a facet of their magnificence; a portion of their endless glories. There can only be victory for the Sons of Chaos! Only triumph for those who serve, and shall one day rule as I rule now; who shall dominate the tenuous strands of fate and destiny and lay low all who stand in opposition to the glory of the Imperium and her allies!"

The three Pananab ships left the Chronosian system and rejoined the fleet. Stowes's second-in-command was left in charge as Kao'Tu retrieved Stowes from Remiel.

Kao'Tu went itno a half-phased state as he pulled himself towards Stowes. Stowes was approaching the assembly slowly in an almsot half-minded state.
"How did you get here, Stowes?" Kao'Tu asked himself quietly. He closed in on Stowes, shielding himself from the powerful psychic and Chaotic blasts that tried to pry into his mind. As his phased hand was placed on Stowes's shoulder, Kao'Tu saw a horrific sight. A blast of the power of the Gods of Chaos that it caused Kao'Tu, one of teh most powerful psychics in the galaxy, to lose his focus. He phased into Remiel's chamber, barely able to stand. Kao'Tu ignored the others present.
"Stowes, you do not belong here!"
Stowes only knelt before Remiel. Kao'Tu shiddered. He knew taht whle weakened so badly by Chaos he was vulnerable to attack by so many of those touched by the Chaos Gods. Kao'Tu knew he now had todefend himself as best he can against them, as he had no immediate way back.

"Yes, yes, come to me; I shall give you your instructions. Stay your hands, the time is not yet; not now. There must be preparation; the universe must burn in caprcious fire; must sunder itself in war and tyranny, and only then shall a true paradise await; a paradise of pain and change and unending possiblity. A future of Chaos!" Remiel rose; gesturing to all who would assemble before him. "The Gods have spoken to me; they speak through me, and all I can do is be but a facet of their magnificence; a portion of their endless glories. There can only be victory for the Sons of Chaos! Only triumph for those who serve, and shall one day rule as I rule now; who shall dominate the tenuous strands of fate and destiny and lay low all who stand in opposition to the glory of the Imperium and her allies!"

By the time that Remiel had begun to ramble on, the ambassador's craft had landed and disgorged it's small sortie of personell. Haphazard organization had been established amongst the other Traileric craft in-system. Said craft were now floating in a holding pattern half a click above the planets atmosphere. Phased telemetry from the ambassador himself allowed all those on board to behold the spectacle first hand.

The landers and transports made landfall, shaking the planet like an earthquake.

Tyle's machanical arm gripped the haft of his Chaos Axe and both his limb and melee weapon pulsed with the blessing of chaos. In his other hand was a short berrelled high caliber assult rifle.

He wanted to get close, close to his enemies, just to see thier last moments in pain.

OOC: Bump

OOC: Bump

OOC: Courtesy Bump

((Bump))

"You have come; all of you; to taste the undiluted glory of Chaos. To set this universe to burning and decay; to render all to ashes and stale wind. I grant you that chance. Pledge allegience to me here, and we shall rend the very fabric of existence. We shall birth wars to set the void aflame and the stars themselves to hide. I offer my hand only once in friendship; I offer it freely. Will you join me? Will you serve me? Will you fight and die at my side?"

"You have come; all of you; to taste the undiluted glory of Chaos. To set this universe to burning and decay; to render all to ashes and stale wind. I grant you that chance. Pledge allegience to me here, and we shall rend the very fabric of existence. We shall birth wars to set the void aflame and the stars themselves to hide. I offer my hand only once in friendship; I offer it freely. Will you join me? Will you serve me? Will you fight and die at my side?"
"Chaos is the open threat to exsistance...To destroy this Universe would let loose Hell apon all others...I remain loyal to the lives that I share...War is the machine for oppression, greed, death, and anarchy...Your hand reeks of confusion of even your own Chaos...I will stand and resist..." Kao'Tu said, panting heavily and struggling to stand.

"I take your and andwill protect it as if it were my own," Staowes said. He bowed his head, "I pledge to Chaos."

Kao'Tu lunged to Stowes and only Stowes' limp body remained. Slowly it sat back up again.

"I pledge to Chaos."
((Now there's a trail to a real Civil War!))

Remiel chuckled. "Your service is welcomed; you are blessed of the Gods; one who recieves the wisdom of Chaos. The knowledge of anarchy. We shall set this galaxy to burning; this universe to a smoldering ruin. It all begins here; this alter, this crucible. Blood for Khorne, unlimited pleasure for Slaanesh, Death and Disease for Nurgle, and ultimate change for Tzeentch. Arioch shall taste the realm material, the dread fleets of Pyaray shall join us in scourging order from existence; from undoing the Balance"