NationStates Jolt Archive


For We Are The Icons Of Evil [Semi-open; ATTN: Melkor, Doomingsland]

Automagfreek
11-06-2008, 00:49
Unfurl the coming aeon, the world as you see it will be gone. Thrust into chaos, unpredicted prophecies unfold....

For many ages the giant monolith on the Forbidden Isle that stood well into the heavens sat in peace, a symbol of awe and mystery to those who could see its eerie magnificence from many miles away. The cursed island had never been successfully explored by any man or being, for those that dared to venture into the darkness never returned, and countless Freekish explorers had disappeared over the centuries...and military units from both Automagfreek and Allanea had been swallowed whole by the ancient pestilence that dwelled there. It came as a surprise as night fell on the beginning of the 13th Lunar Cycle of the age old Freekish pagan calendar when the obelisk of stone began to pulsate and glow with a vibrant, deep purple energy that began to swirl and manifest itself in the clouds into a great storm. The seas thrashed wildly as violent winds began to rage and blow across the island and the surrounding area, causing those on the Freekish mainland to immediately seek shelter for fear of their lives.

Dreadfire himself had just fallen asleep within his chambers in the Great Hall, and as the massive influx of energy continued to reach outward, he shot up from his slumber and with his eyes glowing with crimson light he made his way to the window and stared off to the southeast in the direction of the Forbidden Isle. His ThirdEye could see visions of what was to come and of the beings that began to cross the plains into the Realm of the Living, and his eyes closed and face tightened plainfully as he began to shake and sweat profusely. Never before had this kind of activity ever been seen on the Forbidden Isle, for it was thought by many that only the lost souls who wandered between this world and the next dwelled there, and so long as they remained undisturbed they would refrain from interfering in the works of man. It would appear on this night that the preceptions of old would be shattered.

From the dense fog that had manifested around the island came a small boat, frightful and dark as it sailed quickly towards the mainland but without upsetting the waters on which it moved. With great and unyielding speed it made its way into the delta of the Nuell River, and with ever increasing momentum it then turned north into the ULE River, which ran north past ULE City. Upon arriving at its destination at roughly two in the morning it parked alongside a local fishing dock, and two cloaked figures began to make their way towards the heart of the city where the Great Hall sat.

As they began to make their way up the front walk the large oak doors of the ancient building began to open slowly, and a servant greeted them before suddenly recoiling and retreating in terror into the Hall upon seeing their figures. The pair then advanced down the main corridor with only the pale moonlight shining in through the windows to guide them, and upon reaching the far end they moved towards the faint light making its way out from underneath a set of doors. As they approached they were given the command of Enter by their host, and the final set of oak doors groaned their disapproval as they slowly swung open on their own.

Dreadfire sat on his throne in waiting, the warm glow of torchlight eerily accenting his glowing eyes as he scanned the strange pair that approached him. We bid you welcome. I am Euronymous. As they removed their cloaks, Damien was taken back by the ghastly sight before him...for these were beings unlike that which he had ever encountered in this realm. The twisted and deformed creatures pulsated with an unfamiliar energy that drew the attention of The One, who himself was puzzled as to their nature. Without manifesting into physical form, The One stood behind them with his hand grasping the handle of his blade tightly should the need to strike the two unworldly beings arose. The two did not possess eyes but could clearly see the lord Death Dealer as he stood close by, and after turning their heads briefly in acknowledgement, proceeded to address Damien. Euronymous was the first to speak, the tone in his voice ever changing but so deep in pitch that it was barely comprehendible by the human ear.

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We come to thee now in accordance with the untold prophecies from countless millennia ago before the dawn of life and before the heavens came into being. We are the Aeons of a forgotten age, and we come to thee bearing knowledge and visions of things that have passed, things that are, and things that have yet to be.

Dreadfire arose slowly from his throne and advanced towards Euronymous, the ancient Aeon's height trumping that of the Warlord. Unintimidated he snorted, and replied.

You underestimate me 'demon', for a being that claims such higher knowledge must surely be able to see within my soul. I can forsee more than you can imagine. Euronymous growled in disapproval.

Choose thy words carefully Destroyer, for thine weak flesh is easily destroyed and thy Godsoul cast down. We are the architects of the universe, shunned and despised by the heretic Gods that usurped our power and sent us down into the abyss of the nether-realms. This Earth was once our paradise in the days before mortal life existed, and since being stripped of our divinity many ages ago we have remained within the confides of what remains of the old world....what your people call, 'The Forbidden Isle'.

Dreadfire was intrigued, for it was well known that none who dared venture onto the cursed island would ever return, and not even from the most advanced satellite in space could see through the dense cloud that forever shrouded it. Then what business do you have in my empire, fallen one?

Occultus, the other Aeon present, stepped forward. We have come to warn thee of a shift in the planes, for the natural balance has been thrown askew. Life and death, good and evil are cycles of the ages. The Gods of Greed, Decadence, Weakness and their ilk have grown in strength, upsetting the order and threatening to destroy all that exists. No longer do the race of men fear the darkness, no longer do they honor and respect the natural cycle of death and destruction.

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The Warlord nodded in agreement, though what he was hearing was nothing revolutionary in his mind, for he had often dwelled on the very same thoughts. Occultus continued, his voice growing more ominous by the minute. There can be no creation without destruction, no destruction without creation. We come to thee on this night, for the untold prophecies of which only we higher beings know tells of a great turning point...a violent but neccessary return to balance in both this world and the universe. You know this and have seen these visions. The prophecies tell of the Three who will bring order and stability to the realms by opening the gates of cruelty and destruction upon this world, and only then will the natural balance between that which you call 'good' and that which you call 'evil' be restored.

Upon concluding their impromtu meeting, the two retreived their cloaks and took their leave from the Great Hall, and Damien watched them closely as they disappeared into the thick fog that had now drifted across the ULE Valley. He was somewhat at a loss as to the significance of their arrival and the words they spoke, though he knew that in the coming months and indeed years their vision would become more clear. However he could not deny the truth of their words, for the world was becoming a less chaotic place and had sunk into a state of decadence and self interest. Mankind no longer feared the night and the terrors that lurked in the shadowy abyss, and in Damien's mind the presence of these 'Aeons' was perhaps an important turning point, for better or worse.

When morning came Dreadfire was still awake, sitting at his desk penning a personal message and invitation to Maximus. While relations since the Freekish/Doomani war blossomed, they quickly became chilled when the APOC was resurrected from the abyss and leaders of several nations that are considered Blood Foes of the Freekish Empire attached their names to its roster.

~From the desk of Lord Damien the Destroyer, Supreme Warlord of the Excessively Armed Empire of Automagfreek~

Maximus,

Word has reached my ears of the misfortune you have endured recently involving the exodus of those once close to you. I cannot say that I am surprised, for I have long known that men such as us and nations such as ours do not mix with the weak. It was only a matter of time before this day came, and I pray now that your eyes have been opened to their true intentions...for they abandoned you and cursed your name just as quickly as they were to embrace you and call you one of their own.

My eyes have seen a great truth, Maximus. I pray that you see now who your real friends are and the treachery of this "free world" your former friends speak of, for they are all slaves to their corporate overlords and care for nothing save their bottom line. They stand for no cause and hold no code of honor, and such is evident in their sudden and unexpected condemnation of you. Come now Maximus, come to Automagfreek and let us discuss these and others matters in person.


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Upon summoning his assistant into the room, Dreadfire gave her instruction to draft another brief message on his behalf and send it off to the Five Kingdoms, inviting them to send company to the Great Hall. He proclaimed that it had been too long since he last spoke with his friends there, and now that the tides were beginning to shift they would be charged with the important task of deciding which path to follow down...

*******

OOC: I'm not entirely happy with this post but I figured it was some way of getting us together.
Melkor Unchained
15-06-2008, 19:01
The Angsiyan held his court in a large, if somewhat austere chamber that occupied a good deal of space in the Ardan Executive Complex, the Serechav. The walls bore the large standard's of Arda's burgeoning nobility; hung in intervals between large pillars that supported a grand archway above, they lent the room its only substantial decor. Heavy oaken tables filled the room on either side of a carpteted walkway in the center, leading to a cul-de-sac of sorts immediately before the modest dias atop which sat the Angsiyan's throne. Althalon sat on the steps of the dias amidst a handful of advisors; as he often did while holding court.

Althalon had not been born into nobility himself, and had founded his House only after the War of Reclamation that followed Morgoth's flight into the Void. He lacked many of the habits of his foreign counterparts, and as a result he had a great amount of support among the commoners, often at the expense of the local noblemen. His dress was usually simple by the standards of his office, and he tended to spurn the accoutrements of his sovereign luxuries unless entertaining foreign company. Clad in an Ardan military officer's uniform, he didn't stand out among the various civil and military personnel currently occupying his court. Only a trained eye would recognize him as Arda's sovereign, although the tone and energy of his voice belied this concealment. "I cannot be sure of their intentions at this time," he mused, adding a slight shrug.

"Indeed," advised Yousef Rabani, his liason to Tiloka Kit's Foreign Ministry. "We would be wise to take the Freek's overtures with a mountain of salt; at least for now. Still, I believe it's a request worth considering. After what happened last time I don't think they're going to be too eager to repeat the mistake.


Althalon slid his jaw slowly to one side and pursed his lips in thought. "Mountains of salt indeed. We have yet to solidify our newest peace with any manner of document." He spread his hands. "Arda's last conflict with the Freeks saw only a nominal cease-fire; we have no greater peace than that, such as it were. Many in Gallus and Gevaelia still despise them as well they should. Their distaste should keep us in the Serechav honest."

Althalon's gaze flickered to an irritated looking nobleman from Gevaelia. "What say you, Lord Odai?"

Odai bowed his head. "As an Ardan first and foremost I can only agree that a meeting with the Freeks could be most productive and may do us some good. I would be remiss, however, if I were not to indicate the truth in your words. Sentiment in my home of Gevaelia, and indeed in Gallus as you mentioned..." he trailed off for a moment. "As well as the outlying Khourum Islands, the Freeks are still widely distrusted. I cannot say for sure that our citizens will endorse such a move. The war did all but raze these lands; and damage is still extensive in some localities, even stretching to Far Harad."

The Angsiyan nodded slowly in agreement. "I would not expect our citizens to so quickly cast aside their animosity," he admitted. "Ardans, after all, do have a tendancy to bear a grudge--I doubt any of us here are remarkable exceptions." At this a soft laughter arose from the assembled dozen or so men. Althalon took another moment to think. "Inform your House that Gevaelia's greivances will be represented in this dialogue. I must confess to being less than thrilled about the image the Freeks present; they all to often call to mind memories of Morgoth and that troubles me. Why they would style themselves in that fashion and yet seek to destroy him I cannot determine."

"Rivalry?" Odai scratched his head and Deputy Minister Rabani nodded a bit.

"I suppose that makes sense, but that they would seek our company now belies that theory. And again, there's the unsettling possibility that this is all a rouse; but in light of our last conflict I'd say odds are pretty good that it isn't. The Freeks realized at the end that we had essentially been fighting on two fronts the entire time--and now that we've eradicated the Orcish strongholds in both Near and Far Harad, it's a fairly safe bet that any large-scale attempt to betray us wouldn't meet with the same degree of success their previous attempt enjoyed." Althalon put his hands on his knees and rose slowly, coming eye to eye with his advisors, who had all remained standing more out of habit than necessity. Indicating Rabani, the Angsyian continued. "Rabani and Kit will arrange a delegation to ascertain the nature of the Freekish interest. As I said earlier, I do not care for how they present themselves; and I realize that an open alliance with them will close some other doors with us--but at the same time we shouldn't be so aloof as to strike away Dreadfire's hand."

Odai pursed his lips and nodded slightly. "I will have the meeting downlpayed in Gevaelia--we should keep it low-key. Word of it may yet get out, so I can't promise a pleased reaction from our people; Gevaelia and Gallus were hit hardest by the Freeks' last attack. I'm not sure they'd even be enthusiastic about a NAP."

Althalon heaved a sigh. "Well I'm sure we'll be able to spin it somehow and besides, I'm not enthusiastic about rushing headlong into this anyway. We might already be done or have heard something we don't like by the time they hear about it in Gevaelia, so we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I still have my doubts that very many people abroad took the Reclamation seriously. Daily I continue to receive queries from overseas that speak to me as one would speak to Morgoth. Whether or not the Freeks had a geniune change of opinion or not I don't know--this meeting might be a good place to get to the bottom of it. I'll draft a letter to be sent to Dreadfire; in the meantime I'd like Lord Odai to contact Minister Kit and assist him in selecting two additional representatives to accompany Deputy Minister Rabani to ULE City. We'll see what they want, but I'd like us to play things close to the vest for now--I don't blame Gevaelia for her malcontent and I certainly wouldn't want it to spread elsewhere."

The faint blast of a horn outside indicates the time, and Althalon's eyes dart to the clock over the door to double-check. "Well that'll about do it for now--I've got a letter to write and some lunch to eat. Odai, I want to hear back from you regarding your ambassador by the end of tomorrow at the latest." A soft mirth arose as the Angsiyan excused himself to pen his response. Eventually the noblemen filtered out, alone or in pairs, and made their way out of Althalon's main chamber to their outlying offices in the Serechav.

The Ardan reply would come hours after the arrival of the Freekish message--its reception had come at the beginning of the day shortly after the Angiysan had arisen. Althalon would respond by late afternoon, with a short but not unfriendly indication that Arda would send a diplomatic mission of three ambassadors to discuss all and sundry.
imported_Kalessin
15-07-2008, 02:55
Taggety-tag.
Automagfreek
25-07-2008, 04:36
OOC: Upon invoking fluid time, this conference takes place before my first actions in the Haven war. More posts here to come.