Ermor
17-07-2006, 14:37
It was an entirely regular day, on an entirely regular planet which orbitted a sun not much unlike ours, and this planet had an entirely regular human populace - an ancient, forgotten colony of some unknown country which had been forced to rebuild itself from scratch. The prospering civilization upon it was relatively wealthy and growing steadily. It had two moons, both of which were rather small when moons were concerned, as they were just large asteroids at best.
During the course of time, they had built some small colonies onto their moons, ones which were completely dependent on the planet itself. They lacked the ability to go much further than their own planet as it were, but they were on the verge of gaining such ability.
But it all would be drowned in the coming darkness.
As the Ashen Empire was still gathering its forces after countless years, it did not attack inhabited planets which had no use for it, were too hard to conquer or were indeed unknown to it. Exception to the rule were locales which had somehow accidentally stumbled into the realm of necromancy through similar means as that of the Ashen Empire itself - not through death magic itself, but through rites which were considered unholy, the method the undead priests of Ermor brought forth more nonsapient undead each day. Indeed, it draws the user closer to the Underworld itself than truly magical means.
Over time, if this kind of behavior is continued, it changes the user, corrupts him, turns him into a witless follower of the Lord of the Underworld. On this plane of existence, doing thus effectively turns one into a cultist of Ermor, a lackey of the Lich Queen. The very first thing they commit themselves to once they have been corrupted beyond the point of no return, they desecrate enough land anywhere in that place - a very small parcel of land is enough for this - to create a beacon within the Underworld, to draw in the Ashen Empire's attention. Luckily, though, for most creatures in the universe, this happens extremely rarely.
But this had happened on the aforementioned planet, which was slowly advancing back into the stars. A small number of them had always had an odd affinity towards magic, and the number of people who knew of this was even lower. Far, far in the past magic had been much stronger within them, but technology was the way they had chosen, and magic was just considered a mere myth by the vast majority.
But all it takes is a small number of people to change everything forever.
They thought they could control it. In their arrogance they indeed thought that the Underworld would heed their commands. Instead, they were turned into simple pawns in an eternal war against life itself.
The first thing they would notice was that the very sky itself turned black and hellish, burning green - but as they would turn their faces towards the sky, they would notice that the darkness was not caused by an eclipse or anything natural of that manner.
No, it was far worse.
A gigantic fleet of ships sat silently in an almost geostationary orbit above the planet, blocking the sun's light completely, as though sneering at them.
Only minutes after the ships had appeared, blackened drop pods began their descent from the sky. Most of them dropped directly onto densely populated areas, crushing buildings and rending flesh, crushing bodies of people who could not run away beneath their immense weight, causing wounds to fester quickly in their vicinity. Once the pods hit the ground, they quickly opened. A cold sickening breeze came forth from each one. Moments after, man-like creatures in black powered armor began to flow onto the streets, with others in thicker armor and red capes shrieking something incoherent, wielding weapons which seemed as though large machineguns, firing upon the survivors who fled in terror, cutting bodies into half with bullets which burned with green flames in innumerable ways, and as they marched on, crushing the unfortunate into unrecognizable slush beneath their boots, showing no emotion whatsoever.
It was only after a great number of these pods had already landed when any kind of anti-air weaponry began to climb into the skies, causing a number of drop pods to burn in the atmosphere or come crashing down, causing more death and despair in their wake. And what was worse... The beings within the crashed pods had survived - and had also begun their systematic killing.
And so, another planet had began to fall.
(OOC: This is an almost open FT setting, which means that if you want to join - in any way you want to - send me a TG or contact me on IRC beforehand and I'll respond to ya. This is because I want to retain SOME control over this thread. Note that the ships aren't exactly giving off any identification information, except maybe Kajalian, Taraskovyan or even New York and Jersey-ian, so claiming knowledge that they are indeed Ermorian should be, well... You should explain to me how you'd know it in detail.)
During the course of time, they had built some small colonies onto their moons, ones which were completely dependent on the planet itself. They lacked the ability to go much further than their own planet as it were, but they were on the verge of gaining such ability.
But it all would be drowned in the coming darkness.
As the Ashen Empire was still gathering its forces after countless years, it did not attack inhabited planets which had no use for it, were too hard to conquer or were indeed unknown to it. Exception to the rule were locales which had somehow accidentally stumbled into the realm of necromancy through similar means as that of the Ashen Empire itself - not through death magic itself, but through rites which were considered unholy, the method the undead priests of Ermor brought forth more nonsapient undead each day. Indeed, it draws the user closer to the Underworld itself than truly magical means.
Over time, if this kind of behavior is continued, it changes the user, corrupts him, turns him into a witless follower of the Lord of the Underworld. On this plane of existence, doing thus effectively turns one into a cultist of Ermor, a lackey of the Lich Queen. The very first thing they commit themselves to once they have been corrupted beyond the point of no return, they desecrate enough land anywhere in that place - a very small parcel of land is enough for this - to create a beacon within the Underworld, to draw in the Ashen Empire's attention. Luckily, though, for most creatures in the universe, this happens extremely rarely.
But this had happened on the aforementioned planet, which was slowly advancing back into the stars. A small number of them had always had an odd affinity towards magic, and the number of people who knew of this was even lower. Far, far in the past magic had been much stronger within them, but technology was the way they had chosen, and magic was just considered a mere myth by the vast majority.
But all it takes is a small number of people to change everything forever.
They thought they could control it. In their arrogance they indeed thought that the Underworld would heed their commands. Instead, they were turned into simple pawns in an eternal war against life itself.
The first thing they would notice was that the very sky itself turned black and hellish, burning green - but as they would turn their faces towards the sky, they would notice that the darkness was not caused by an eclipse or anything natural of that manner.
No, it was far worse.
A gigantic fleet of ships sat silently in an almost geostationary orbit above the planet, blocking the sun's light completely, as though sneering at them.
Only minutes after the ships had appeared, blackened drop pods began their descent from the sky. Most of them dropped directly onto densely populated areas, crushing buildings and rending flesh, crushing bodies of people who could not run away beneath their immense weight, causing wounds to fester quickly in their vicinity. Once the pods hit the ground, they quickly opened. A cold sickening breeze came forth from each one. Moments after, man-like creatures in black powered armor began to flow onto the streets, with others in thicker armor and red capes shrieking something incoherent, wielding weapons which seemed as though large machineguns, firing upon the survivors who fled in terror, cutting bodies into half with bullets which burned with green flames in innumerable ways, and as they marched on, crushing the unfortunate into unrecognizable slush beneath their boots, showing no emotion whatsoever.
It was only after a great number of these pods had already landed when any kind of anti-air weaponry began to climb into the skies, causing a number of drop pods to burn in the atmosphere or come crashing down, causing more death and despair in their wake. And what was worse... The beings within the crashed pods had survived - and had also begun their systematic killing.
And so, another planet had began to fall.
(OOC: This is an almost open FT setting, which means that if you want to join - in any way you want to - send me a TG or contact me on IRC beforehand and I'll respond to ya. This is because I want to retain SOME control over this thread. Note that the ships aren't exactly giving off any identification information, except maybe Kajalian, Taraskovyan or even New York and Jersey-ian, so claiming knowledge that they are indeed Ermorian should be, well... You should explain to me how you'd know it in detail.)