Icecrown Glaciar
05-01-2009, 19:27
OOC: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=14367698#post14367698 Here is the OOC/Signup thread for any and all interested in engaging me :)
For too long a time they had sat quiescent, unmoving and unacting in the coldness of the void. Waiting. Watching. The universe grew ripe with life, fresh iterations appearing from the formless matter, clawing from the muck to the stars themselves. To observe it was to witness the unending parade of life forms, from birth to death, from mere animals to galaxy-spanning civilisations.
To the Scourge there was nothing more...Futile. To conquer all and to never die, that was true power, true victory...To hold sway over your people for an eternity without withering, was to be more than flesh, more than mortal...To be as Arthas, the Lich King...Was to be as a God.
The air of Icecrown was thick, heavy, cloying with cold and decay. Had he breath it would have clouded instantly in the barely liveable atmosphere, glacier chill...Such things were concerns for the living, such things were fleeting annoyances for the Scourge. The Lich King reached out, his immense faculties connected with every single being that knelt now beneath his command. Rising from his throne, his hand moving to the blade that hung from his belt, caressing Frostmourne as one might caress a lover.
“Yes...”
The dead were gathered before him, all armed for war. They came with swords and spears; with guns and cannons. They came in droves; the human, the Nerubian, the transformed Vrykul and those who still clung to life, eager to prove themselves. They all stood before him, or rose from the ice of the walls and the mouldering rest of the deeper catacombs. They all moved in service to him, be their minds free or enslaved.
“My children, my servants, the universe is ripe for our emergence, for the illumination that I shall provide. The lesser races shall tremble before us, they shall be enlightened with the touch of the Plague.” He rose now, his flesh pulsing with tamed power, aglow with inner malevolence. “Soon every world, every species...All will know the wrath of the Lich King, and the true might of the Scourge”
Hulking warriors glowered from the sepulchral deeps of the vessel, their eyes aglow with ruinous power, slave-forms dragged great vats and barrels of the plague to gun-modules and weapon-ports. This was the beginning, the great initiation of their endeavour. The universe would bow before their might, one world at a time, and it would tremble.
The immensity of Icecrown and its accompanying ships, 5 Necropoli and 3 Hive Ships, seemed to glimmer, like sunlight off of ice. It pulsed and shimmered, blazing with the focussed power of the Nether, ripping reality asunder as it slid into the twisting depths...Soon they would arrive at their destination, and their reign would begin in earnest.
For too long a time they had sat quiescent, unmoving and unacting in the coldness of the void. Waiting. Watching. The universe grew ripe with life, fresh iterations appearing from the formless matter, clawing from the muck to the stars themselves. To observe it was to witness the unending parade of life forms, from birth to death, from mere animals to galaxy-spanning civilisations.
To the Scourge there was nothing more...Futile. To conquer all and to never die, that was true power, true victory...To hold sway over your people for an eternity without withering, was to be more than flesh, more than mortal...To be as Arthas, the Lich King...Was to be as a God.
The air of Icecrown was thick, heavy, cloying with cold and decay. Had he breath it would have clouded instantly in the barely liveable atmosphere, glacier chill...Such things were concerns for the living, such things were fleeting annoyances for the Scourge. The Lich King reached out, his immense faculties connected with every single being that knelt now beneath his command. Rising from his throne, his hand moving to the blade that hung from his belt, caressing Frostmourne as one might caress a lover.
“Yes...”
The dead were gathered before him, all armed for war. They came with swords and spears; with guns and cannons. They came in droves; the human, the Nerubian, the transformed Vrykul and those who still clung to life, eager to prove themselves. They all stood before him, or rose from the ice of the walls and the mouldering rest of the deeper catacombs. They all moved in service to him, be their minds free or enslaved.
“My children, my servants, the universe is ripe for our emergence, for the illumination that I shall provide. The lesser races shall tremble before us, they shall be enlightened with the touch of the Plague.” He rose now, his flesh pulsing with tamed power, aglow with inner malevolence. “Soon every world, every species...All will know the wrath of the Lich King, and the true might of the Scourge”
Hulking warriors glowered from the sepulchral deeps of the vessel, their eyes aglow with ruinous power, slave-forms dragged great vats and barrels of the plague to gun-modules and weapon-ports. This was the beginning, the great initiation of their endeavour. The universe would bow before their might, one world at a time, and it would tremble.
The immensity of Icecrown and its accompanying ships, 5 Necropoli and 3 Hive Ships, seemed to glimmer, like sunlight off of ice. It pulsed and shimmered, blazing with the focussed power of the Nether, ripping reality asunder as it slid into the twisting depths...Soon they would arrive at their destination, and their reign would begin in earnest.