If you had not sinned so greatly,
Vahl would not have set a scourge like me upon you.
"Didst thou hear their message? The feeble bleating which went out across their realm unto every system? It is like unto the lowing of cattle who know not yet their destined death. They came upon a dying animal and think themselves great hunters for having slain it. And now they rest upon their laurels, fat with unearned riches of the Core.
They await slaughter.
Their Emperor mocked us at the Conclave. Their priests sung hymns of victory.
Tell me... where is their Emperor now?
Where is their choir of victory? Their warships? Their military might?
All shattered at Atrisia.
We stripped them of their throne room. And their Pride.
Now they are forced to band together disparate corps, mercenaries, and pitiful auxiliaries. Even the undead.
Yet they quake in terror. Can you not sense it? They tremble.
They will flee before us, before the power of Vahl, as they fled at Chandrila.
But I say their humiliation is not yet complete.
Bring me the cowardly hands of their generals. The skulls of their petty nobles. The lying tongues of their petulant priests. And we shall build a pyre to the goddess of death.
We are the Embers of Vahl. The purging fire. And we will not rest until we have scourged the cancer of their weakness from the Core."
And lo, from the vast gathered throng there came such a chanting as did shake the very earth and air.
VAHL.
VAHL.
VAHL.
