Private Safe Haven in the Otherworld

[Onrai]

"Knowledge of things he does not." She said plainly, still holding the shard of Ooradryl's carcass. "I know the forbidden secrets of the galaxy. I know of the location of the ruined throne of Typhojem upon the spectral world of Garn. I know of the forging of weapons powerful enough to make gods bleed. And most importantly of all, I know of the one thing that can seal a malignancy such as he away forever, if only it were able to be constructed." She fingered the shard of metallic crystalline material within her hands.

"But it is to a select group of my choosing that this agenda shall be pursued. Solipsis alone has put the galaxy on a vibroblade's edge with his ritual and the timetable of preparation must be moved up. There are those within the Maw who would foolishly believe such a being as Nakhash could be bargained with, an offer of worlds to rule in exchange for their servitude in his conquest. They would soon learn otherwise when he forced them to submit to his torments." She said, the sharpened scale fragment pointed at Tu'teggacha .

"You among all people should know of associating your plans with the correct individuals, lest they be foiled or fumbled."

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Knowledge. That was the weapon that Onrai intended to wield against a god of darkness. She spoke of broken thrones and ghostly planets and a seal even greater than the one the Celestials had placed. The idea was both terrifying and intoxicating. The Celestials had moved entire star systems around the galaxy. The tools they had left behind were still only poorly understood; meddling with them was like a child breaking into his father's cabinet of power tools, dangerous to both the wielder and to everyone else. Secrets from that lost era would be equally dangerous, but incredibly powerful if they could actually be deciphered.

And they could be used for Tu'teggacha's own benefit.

"The masses of the Brotherhood will not be tempted by this god's offer," the Ebruchi replied. "The Heathen Priests and the marauder tribes are secure in their faith in the Three Avatars, and will not be swayed away from that belief. But the warlords..." He paused, considering the many would-be masters of the galaxy who now contended for leadership of the Brotherhood. "Some of them might follow in exchange for power, no matter how foolish a bargain in the long term." He shook his head, facial tentacles flopping as he moved. "They must not be given the opportunity to do so."

Did the Taskmaster truly, fully believe the spirit's bizarre tale of an eldritch demon-god breaking through ancient seals to menace the galaxy once more? He was unsure. Ordinarily he would have dismissed her words as nothing more than mad ravings... but then again, he currently stood in Otherspace, atop the rotting corpse of an impossible being. He was prepared to be a little more open to believing things he would not normally have considered. And whether or not any of this was true, he did crave the knowledge that Onrai spoke of. The secrets of the ancient gods would do much to increase his own power.

And if he amassed enough power, he would have the control he craved.

None would be able to threaten him, ever again.

"What is our next move, then?"

 

[Onrai]

“Nakhash was one of the Immortal Gods of the Sith.” She said. “A deity of unmentionable horror and vile nature. Some would suggest it was perhaps his touch that explained the deeply rooted union between the Sith species and the Dark Side. If he returns, there will be those who will worship him with fervent abandon.”

Tu'teggacha raised a valid point in that it was important to prevent the formation of the fifth column. Those who sought to undermine an individual like a wood-borer shredding the walls of some primitive dwelling. And when the preponderance of what to do next arose, Onrai continued to finger the blade.

“There are two weapons that can best be used against a Celestial.” She said. “The first is the Mortis dagger, which has long since been lost to the galaxy and which we would need to rediscover in order to truly duplicate it. Alternatively, we can seek to craft our own weapon that brings mortality to the immortal and allows a great wound to be struck against such a being.” She said.

“The other is an angle-trap. A crystalline construct whose method of operation is unexplainable to the mortal mind. It is the only thing capable of sealing away a being like him. The methods of how to make one are so unknown, so far beyond the concept of any mortal mind that only one being, the dread Typhojem, was known to have made such a creation. Long ago was it lost, shattered aboard his impossible starship with no hope of repair by the feeble mortals who called it home as they were consumed. Yet to refabricate it, we will need to succeed - if he is not able to be slain, then he must be trapped.”

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Well, not just knowledge, apparently. There would be physical weapons, too.

The Taskmaster had never hear of this "Mortis Dagger", though the name was certainly menacing enough. He tried - and failed - to picture how a dagger, some one-handed blade that would be the length of his forearm at most, could possibly hurt a god; surely the creature whose corpse he stood upon would hardly even feel the prick of so tiny a weapon, let alone be slain by it. But they were in the realm of the mystical now, not the physical, and a grounded, thorough understanding of physics and biology might actually be counterproductive in learning to comprehend this bizarre eldritch realm and its demon-god denizens.

Perhaps the Dagger didn't kill by blood loss or organ-puncturing, but with a more spiritual power. If so, Tu'teggacha wanted it. If he could place in his knobby green hand a weapon that could kill with a scratch, ripping out the life force of its victims, it wouldn't matter that he was physically weak and untrained in combat; he would still be a force to be reckoned with, a man to be feared. And if he stuck around, if he went along with Onrai 's strange demands, perhaps he would be able to get such a weapon... one that he could turn against her when he no longer needed her knowledge and patronage.

For how else would he rid himself of a bodiless spirit?

The idea of the angle-trap made even less sense. If it was unexplainable to a mortal mind, lost aboard an impossible starship, and shattered beyond mortal repair, what good could it possibly do them? Perhaps Onrai did not count herself among mortals, being a spirit. Perhaps she believed that she would be able to understand and fix this bizarre trap. Tu'teggacha could not imagine how he could possibly fit into a scheme to do so, for he knew himself well enough to recognize his all-too-mortal limits... but if he might gain power along the way, he would go along with whatever mad plan the self-proclaimed goddess had.

"You have my interest," the Taskmaster said, nodding his knobby head.

"I will aid you in this, in exchange for what you've promised."

At least until the time came that he no longer needed her.

 

[Onrai]

"Good." Onrai said, completely aware of what the end consequences of this would be. Tu'teggacha was a schemer who would, in time, seek to use the knowledge gained from the development of such ethereal weaponry against her. It was a matter of bottlenecking such information, ensuring that critical details were left just out of reach so that the techniques in its creation could not be used against her. She would likely require the assistance of Sasmay Cull in its formation, as well as the inquisitive young Shavara . A lot would need to be done in the interim.

For example, could the cubes as of yet be used to bolster Onrai's own forces? Perhaps.