NationStates Jolt Archive

A man shivering from fright stood there, aiming a pistol of some kind in front of him.

He yelled, "D-D-Don't come any closer! I'll shoot!"

The being in front of him laughed coldly in a taunting manner as it continued to advance towards him and he frantically fired his gun at it to no avail. As he ran out of bullets, the being began to speak.

"Long have we been in the shadows of this realm," said the being in a pitch black suit of armor with a dark and twisted voice, a red torn cape fluttering behind it in the brisk wind as it slowly walked forwards towards the terrified man whom now was taking steps backwards, "Long shall we remain there," he continued. "Time is of no consequence for us. Indeed, it plays in our hands."

"W-what do you want from us?!"

"What do we want from you?"

The being placed its left hand on the grip of the sword which it kept beneath its cape.

"The Ark."

"But... That's just a...!"

The man screamed mid-sentence. The being had took its sword and impaled the man's stomach. He could feel life leaving his body. The wound already festered. His flesh was decaying - he could smell it. At least he had gone numb very quickly after the hit, so he did not feel it as much.

The being kicked him in his chest, causing him to fly backwards, off the sword, which seemed to absorb whatever organic matter was left on it, onto the ground. He coughed blood, or so he thought - in actuality, it was what remained of his tongue. When life finally left his body, he looked as though he had been dead for many, many years.

But at least he did not feel it.

"Hmph," muttered the creature as it observed the corpse, "Yet another town massacred, but the Ark still eludes us?"

It turned around and observed the said town. It was not burning, but it was quiet. Corpses littered its streets. Corpses in varying stages of decomposition, effects of the banefire used by the creature's weaponry. As it continued to watch, it could see the spectral beings which, nearly silently and motionlessly, hovered over the corpses.

One of them, however, suddenly appeared next to the creature.

"Lord Censor," it whispered, "The dead shall soon rise. We will soon see if our target is still out of our reach."

"Good, Dusk Elder. I take it the Mound Fiends are performing their duties in a satisfactory manner?"

"Indeed they are, Lord Censor."

"Excellent," replied the Censor as it placed its sword back to its hilt beneath its cape.

Things were proceeding as planned.

--

This was a repeating scene on this planet which existed in some star system in the fringe of the galaxy. Which system, it was of little consequence, and where it exactly was mattered just as little. Unclaimed and unnoticed, the human inhabitants of the planet had lived there in relative peace for eons, that is, until the Ashen Empire was alerted to its existence, and the fact that, due to some strange reason, a legendary artifact which the dead knew as "the Ark" was hidden somewhere on the planet.

Of course, it was not the only planet in the system. It was one of six planets, three of which were rocky and uninhabitable, and the rest were gas giants of varying types. But those were of little interest for the undead - only once the Ark is found would they claim the system. They knew that if they had desecrated the star, it would become near impossible to ever find the Ark - and then there would always be a chance that some outside force would be able to claim it.

And that was not an outcome they would allow to happen.

((OOC: Well, that's it. Anyone's allowed to take part in the thread as long as they're FT and don't bring in gigantic fleets... Well, actually, you can bring a bigass fleet, but expect it to take heavy losses very quickly if you do so.

There may be other artifacts there as well, just that the Ark is, for reasons unexplained as of yet, the main objective of the Ashen Empire.))

MLX-77-49A System
September 29, 2577, Kazach Common Calendar
VFS Brave New World

A brilliant flash of light, and the Vuhifellian exploration vessel had arrived in it's intended system. Almost immediately, it began mapping and taking surveys: three rocky planets at least, and a few gas giants as well. The system was soon classified as a Beta-Class System. One which would need terraforming and specialized equipment, but ultimately would turn a mighty profit for the Federation.

The ship was almost uninhabited, save for a few bio-androids and AI which were its crew. Long gone were the days when massive crews needed to sail these vessels. Now they could get their mission done with just under twenty crew members.

Andrea, I'm picking up radio frequencies from one of the planets in-system. said one of the AIs, Malthicus.

"Ah? Direct a polarized energy capture satellite towards the planet and see what we can find. Unless it's artificial?" replied Andrea, captain of the Brave New World and a bio-android herself.

It is artificial, ma'am.

"Really? Open up a frequency towards the planet and initiate first contact protocol."

First Contact had already been conducted so many times in the past, that it was hardly exciting anymore. Occasionally they would find massive interstellar empires with which they could trade, but usually they found small, single-world governments (who sometimes didn't even fully control their own planet!).

Attention to those emitting the artificial radio frequencies within this system. This is an exploration vessel of the Vuhifellian Federation, we are coming into your local orbit to investigate. Do not fire, we repeat, do not fire.

Static.

Beneath the static, weak signals. Very weak. Nothing one could make any sense of. As though they were being smothered by something - a strong jammer of some kind.

But through a freak chance they received one transmission which was not completely corrupted.

"*kzzzrrrr*r attack by s*zzzrrrrrk*! Need b*kzrrzzz*..."

And as suddenly as it had started, the transmission was cut.

If the Vuhifellian explorator vessel was to come closer to the planet, those onboard would notice that there's only debris in its orbit. Broken satellites, demolished stations, charred husks of space vessels and some derelict, pitch-black ships which did not seem to be of the same design as the other ships. Those vessels, however, weren't faring much better than anything else in the orbit of the planet, and debris hit them constantly.

Something was, obviously, going on.

"Another settlement," uttered the Censor as it watched a village in the distance. It stood upon the highest point of a hill, partially hidden by trees. Its companions, the spectral beings which had reanimated the dead in the earlier town as well as the ones before that one, were hovering behind it in complete silence, waiting for it to act.

"Lord Censor," whispered a voice beside it as it stood there, "This village..."

"What of it, Dusk Elder?", asked the Censor, turning its head slightly, green flames bursting momentarily out of the seams in the neck part of its power armor.

"There is something... Out of place. As though something is interfering with our scryings."

Now, the Censor turned completely to face the Dusk Elder.

"What do you mean?"

"... We do not know what exactly causes it. But it is highly magical. Whether it is unholy, holy, infernal or anything in between... We cannot tell."

The Censor glanced at the village in the distance.

"We will see, then."

The Dusk Elder nodded its translucent head in silence, and the Censor snorted. Then it turned to face the village in the distance once again, and, without a word, began marching towards it. The Dusk Elder followed its lead with the rest of its retinue.

Indeed, whatever it was, they would soon see.

As they came closer to the village, they noticed that the sky above it was... Weird, somehow. Warped by some strange force. It was something they had not seen on this planet yet - but it was an indicator of what was to come.

"Demons," muttered the Censor. They were at the western edge of the village. It could not see any living beings, but it could see blood spatters here and there, on the ground, on the outer walls of buildings, everywhere. "This place is infested with demons," it continued.

"Yes, indeed it is, Lord Censor," whispered the Dusk Elder whom was now beside the Censor once again, "It is obvious now why we were not able to sense what was going on in here. "

For a moment, the Dusk Elder went silent as the ethereal creature looked upwards.

"That dome... It is made with blood sacrifice."

The Censor looked upwards for a second in turn.

"Yes... It is that dome."

"Indeed, Lord Censor. We must be wary - Horrors lurk here."

The Censor nodded and took a few steps into the village. It could not see a soul... Nor feel them, either. The dome was numbing its unnatural senses.

"We must find the source of this corruption and destroy it," uttered the Censor, "Those from the Infernal planes are not allowed to walk upon the lands claimed by the Underworld."

The Dusk Elder agreed.

There was no place for demons on this planet.

They came here, now. Their main ships were left behind – only smaller landing ships, truly. They were old, as if they haven't been used by the being for years upon years – and yet here they were.

They began to approach the planet, scanning it methodically for signs of true life – for it was life they were after, not artifacts, not treasure.

Holy Life.

Theirs to devour.

Theirs to dissect.

Theirs to triumph over.

"Hmph," a disembodied voice echoed throughout the dark, cold and airless corridors of an ancient vessel which lazily orbited the planet, "It is them. The childish mockeries, created by a species unknowing of the true darkness which awaits them."

"What will we do about them?", asked another voice.

"Nothing," answered the first voice, "They are inconsequential. They are merely after the living. That is their way. Their... Programming. They know not of the importance of this planet."

"Very well, Lord. If that is your wish."

"Indeed it is."

The two creatures continued to watch the ships as they began their descent.

And if they seek to interfere, they shall be exterminated.

Suddenly, a large ship entered the area, seeing the nearest panet, it moved in to orbit. Scans indicated that it was uninhabited, as the air around it was not fit for any life. After a minute of floating in orbit, the ship blasted a small pod onto the planet.

The Ancient walked out of the pod, his scythe in hand, he was wearing his black robes and hood, typical of the Deathshawl, the land was rocky, and the air could not be breathed. The Ancient took a breath from it's helmet, and took another step forward, a strong wind blowing his robes around him, yet his hood remained covering his face. He bent down, and took a fistful of gravel, smelling it through his mask, he got up and looked around him again. Just rocks, as far as the eye could see. The Ancient stood there for several minutes, and turned his head slightly as if hearing something.

Deathshawl...life indicated. Whispered a voice through the wind, and with that, the Ancient moved back to the pod.

The beings moved rapidly among the swarms of the living – their appearance, living terror, their motion, lightning, their armor, impermeable, their touch, death. They have grabbed women from their husbands, children from the arms of their mothers, old men from the hands of their caretakers.

Those who tried to protect their loved ones would face death – some, killed outright by weapons that would strip the very atoms of their bodies apart, others flayed alive by the blade-handed monstrosities, yet others killed by the impacts of the serpent-like soldiers' armored, yet almost infinitely prehensile tails.

Those who were taken were allowed to live as they were taken back to the ships, and their lives would be long and fruitful – for their captors, at least, as they were the subjects of dozens of strange experiments both arcane and macabre.

Several months later, some of them would reappear on a variety of worlds, transported there by unknown means. Their bodies would be unscarred externally, but their hair would be gray, and their souls mangled for life, and they would be unable to speak of the things that they would have seen inside the ancient laboratories. Most of them would be unable to speak at all.

But now, events were unfolding fast.

A single figure, as if a centaur of the new age, a humanoid merged with a gravbike, was speeding towards the nearest Ermorian position. Perhaps it had a message to deliver.

The large ship had gone muchly unnoticed by the undead so far as other planets in the system, as of right now, had very little of interest to them. Only once the issue on the only habitable planet in the system would have been dealt with would they proceed to other planets.

And when that would happen... Wasn't clear as of yet.

--

What the Necrons did not know was that when the Ashen Empire strikes its claws upon a star system, it is highly likely that there will be no one left alive in two months - even that the system may be completely uninhabitable by living, organic beings. And because the Necrons only care about the living, as had been evidenced by earlier encounters with the same creatures, the Ermorians knew that they could simply ignore them wholesale.

--

The closest to this Necron infestation was a Censor with a more conventional retinue of Lictors, whom wore similar power armor as the Censor itself did. Only difference between them and their leader was their distinct lack of a cape. The group was advancing towards the town which was under assault by the robotic creatures, when the hovering robot began speeding towards them. They identified it as a Necron - its form did not confuse them.

The Censor stopped, and so did those who followed it. It pointed its large, machine gun-like weapon at the incoming being.

"If it tries to stop us, we will eliminate it and its kind as then they will be interfering with our mission," it whispered, "Otherwise, we shall ignore the fact that they are even here."

"Very well, Lord Censor," said one of the Lictors on its right.

And so, they all stood fast, waiting for this Necron creature to come.

--

They had searched the entire village and had found very little. Blood seemed to cover every building in it, both on the outside and on the inside, but they could not tell what exactly had happened, or where everyone from the village was.

What was obvious, however, was that this was the doing of some faction from the Inferno. How had they gotten there and where they were now... They could not tell.

But the Censor had this weird feeling that they would find out soon enough.

Soon enough...

The Necron sped towards the location of the Lictor without even a sound – as if it knew precisely where it was headed and what it had to do once it got there – which what precisely the case.

It powered down any external systems it had that could be mistaken as a weapon, and approached the Lictor in the most 'peaceful' manner possible.

Greetings to the undead from the unliving. I bear a message from my Master to your people. Are you willing to listen to this message?

The Censor laughed coldly. It did not care for the robotic creature nor its kind. They were merely a bump in the road - and not even especially bad as such. They could be bypassed, left alone. Indeed, only their "gods" were alive... And of course, they would have to be dealt with, sooner or later. But still, out of some kind of morbid curiosity... The Censor would let this being relay whatever message it was bearing.

"Speak."

This is the message from my master:

We require not this planet, nor it's artifacts, nor it's technologies, nor it's resources. We wish to be allowed to claim it's people, however, or at least some of them, for our own purposes. As for anything else on this planet, should we find anything else of value, we will deliver it to you.

"Still nothing. This is... Odd," the Censor muttered.

"They are here, Lord Censor," whispered the Dusk Elder, "I can feel them now. But there is some interference in this location. I cannot tell where here they are."

"And what does that mean, Dusk Elder?"

"... Only once they choose to be seen, they will..."

The Dusk Elder went silent mid-sentence as it noticed... Something, rising from the land from the central square of the village. A red pillar of some kind.

"Lord Censor!"

It nodded. The Censor had noticed it as well. Soon afterwards, the Censor began running towards the place - all those who were with it began advancing to it as well.

As they almost had reached the central square, the gigantic red pillar began to spread at awesome speed - it would surround the entire planet in mere minutes.

"Astral Corruption," muttered the Dusk Elder as it hovered beside the Censor, "I cannot believe they knew of it."

Indeed. Now, spellcasting upon the planet would be hazardous. In fact, just being on the planet would be hazardous. Horrors had found their way there. And they were no mere Chaos Horrors. They were most deserving of the name.

--

"Claim its people? You do not even use them for anything."

The Censor went quiet for a second. A strange, red hued aura which was encompassing the entire planet with awesome speed passed through the place at that moment. It caused no damage - the surroundings, however, seemed to become a little distorted.

"Hmph. Very well. You may 'claim' those you find which have not yet been claimed by the Empire. Be aware. An Infernal presence has been detected on this world. Its strength is unknown."

A booming voice came forth from the blood red haze still lingering in the place the pillar had been on just mere moments before.

"YOU HAVE COME AT A LATE HOUR, MINIONS OF THE UNDERWORLD," it stated, as the haze began to turn into smoke, "VERY LATE INDEED."

"You should know better, demon," replied the Censor with its cold, indifferent voice as it unsheathed its sword, uncovering the weapon's strange, purple blade, "Death does not care of time."

The smoke had begun to dissipate, showing the colossal, flaming form of the demonic creature, which was slowly flapping its giant wings to barely keep it off the ground.

"AND YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO OPPOSE ME."

The Censor laughed out in contempt.

"I grow tired of this pointless banter."

As the Censor shrieked, the Lictors, whom had surrounded the demon, began firing their cursed weapons at the demonic being, whilst the Censor itself began running forwards to face the demon head on.

When it came to creatures from the Infernal planes, there was only one solution - their utter destruction.

The undead shall not suffer their presence.

The devil laughed as the shots fired by the Lictors hit its flaming body, the shots evaporating shortly after impact.

"FEEBLE WORMS!"

The creature slashed around with its tail, hitting the close-by Lictors and causing them to tumble down. All this while the Censor was running towards it, shrieking, with its two-handed, purple-bladed sword pointed at the devil. "BEGONE!", shouted the devil as it threw a huge ball of fire at the Censor, sure of the outcome.

The shrieking ended, and the devil was sure of its victory. Although, technically, it was not that much of a victory, as it was well aware. Censors were not even close to its league.

Next it fixed its sight upon the Dusk Elder, whom still hovered some fifty meters away from it. Without a word uttered, a flaming sword appeared in the hand of the devil.

"WHY DO YOU OPPOSE THE INFERNAL POWERS?"

"... Why?", responded the Dusk Elder, "Because you are an abomination. Your destruction is demanded by the Queen and the Lord. By even the ancient laws of the long gone Empire."

"I SEE. THEN WE MUST DESTROY YOU."

"If you can, demon," said the Dusk Elder quite plainly as it suddenly wielded a dark crossbow and fired it at the devil, surprising it entirely, causing it to come crashing down onto the ground in an attempt to evade the hit. It knew full well what the crossbow was - it was capable of killing even the devil with its arrows.

"WHAT TRICK..."

The devil was cut short as it felt a blade go through its neck.

The ethereal Dusk Elder smirked.

"The arrogance of your kind is what will destroy you, Arch Devil. Can you not feel the pain? The agony?"

The devil tried to respond, but it was in vain. It just gurgled.

"Kill it," muttered the Dusk Elder as it hovered towards the location where the Censor's body lied in front of it, and the Lictor unceremoniously decapitated the devil.

"Indeed a good plan, Lord Censor," it said as it had reached the body.

The Censor rose back up, unhurt by the flames.

"Yes. It was. The demon was completely unaware as to what it was fighting against."

"Indeed, Lord Censor. But now we know what we are facing, and why the Ark eludes us."

"Yes... The irrefutable demonic presence on this planet. It must be purged first if we are to take the artifact."

Indeed - the undead knew now that they would need a much stronger presence on the planet.

((OOC: No, that wasn't what I originally intended to do with this part of the story if someone was wondering (probably wasn't but anyway). I lost my inspiration, and I wanted to advance this thing by a bit... So you have this. Oh well.))

As time progressed, the legions of the Ashen Empire swelled in size. Many gigantic and pitch black fortresses had appeared within the lands they had conquered. All living beings which had remained in their path, be it plant life or of the animal kingdom, were dead or dying. Darkness and extreme cold ruled those desolate, death-stricken lands - and it was near-impossible for the Infernal forces to even attempt to retake them, for there they were at a great disadvantage. All they could do was retreat in front of the Ermorian onslaught.

While most lone spawn of the Inferno were more than a match for any single undead of the Empire, they had... Distinct problems, which did not affect the dead to the least. Their numbers were few compared to the undead - and due to the selfish nature of the forces of Inferno, and the methods required to summon them to the realm of the living, their numbers were not increasing nearly as quickly as those of the undead, whom all shared their objective with little concern for their own, individual existence. With each conquered Infernal bastion which the Ermorians turned to serve Death, the dead slowed down this process even further.

As this "war" progressed, the undead had found several artifacts of some importance, among them the item they had come to this planet for, the hallowed Ark - one of the few artifacts which had still been lost which truly interested the Empire. It had been found in one of the Infernal enclaves, which, once and for all, explained why they could not find it before. They sought to use it for their own purposes - but they knew better than to try to use it on the Ermorian forces, on which some of the artifact's distinct powers would be lost upon.

As soon at the Ark had been found it was sent into the Underworld to avoid its capture by any... Outside forces with malign intentions. The artifact, once things upon the planet would be settled, would be given a special place within one of the Ashen Empire's fortified star systems. It would not see the light of day until its special power is needed. If that day ever comes. Indeed, the dead would seek ways to capitalize on it on the battlefield... But when that would happen was anybody's guess.

On the planet, Death reigned.

Once the last of the demonic creatures had been banished back to the Infernal planes, many of the undead, Wights, Lictors, Censors and their ilk, disappeared without a trace, leaving many longdead and soulless forever roam on the planet's surface. They were no longer needed there, as the war against the relatively weak Infernal infestation had ended. Some remained there until the unholy priests whom had once adhered to the ancient Ermorian faith desecrated the last vestiges of the once lush planet, sealing its fate as... Ermorian.

When this happened, the gigantic frame of the claw-like Trismegistus appeared close to the star system's sun, forcing what looked like an enormous, sickly green ball of contained fire which always sat upon its palm into the sun. For anyone watching, it would have looked as though the ship had the star in its grasp. The sun momentarily pulsed outwards, engulfing the Trismegistus as a whole. The massive ship's outer layer was momentarily set on fire, but as quickly as it had begun, the flames were put out. Shortly after this... The star began to have a green tinge to it. It continued to pulse, more and more violently, each time taking an ever greener shade.

In the end, it was as green as the ball of fire which had entered it earlier had been.

Once this had happened, the Trismegistus backed off from the now sickly green star and vanished.

Now, not only was the planet a part of the Ashen Empire... So was the entire star system. Soon the dead would bring their twisted devices there and turn it into yet another fortress system.

Yet another system had fallen.

((OOC: Due to personal lack of interest and the lack of interest of others, I went and wrapped this up this way. Thus, the RP is concluded.))

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