Darth Voracitos
Chaos-God of Gluttony
@[member="Vereor"], @[member="Eosin Ryj"], @[member="Avos Koj"], @[member="Aronis Vilgar"], @[member="Arcturus Procyon"], @[member="Darth Ayra"], @Other-Sith-who-just-kinda-wanna-watch...
All across the Galaxy, the lights start to flicker. On monitors, an image can scarcely be glimpsed as the unknown signal cuts through the static and breaches the technological guards meant to prevent such massive and public intrusions. It was a hooded figure, and on worlds like Coruscant where the landscape was dominated by broadcast images, the effect was extreme. Eventually after a minute or so, the image finally won the fight over scheduled broadcasting. The fat man appeared before, hooded, and obscure. There was silence for twenty seconds as slowly, subtle features could be made out... such as the mans apparent obesity. Suddenly the talking began, the movements of his mouth evident and clear with the motion of the rest of his head.
"It is likely that after such a long time and with so few accomplishments the entire galaxy has forgotten who am, who I was, what I represented. You all celebrate prematurely, too quickly do you race to be ahead of everyone else. In doing this you have neglected to check if your back doors were locked while you were away, and now past enemies return to plague you again. I am that plague, and like the events of the "Dark Harvest", I am one of the dead, as dead as the Sith Empire now." He spoke in a voice that was essentially grinding glass, unpleasant and ignoring it was obviously not an option. The intrusive broadcast was no probably no more than a minute and a half inwards.
"In my own country, I was bestowed the title unsavory to my position as The Shadow, for my lack of presence in leadership, locked away within my own palace until I deigned to keep them in line. Unfortunately the unruly whelps didn't care for that very much, so much in fact the put their faith into a dull witted assassin who did his researched. Killed me with my weapon. A tiny prick, that's all it took to bring me crumbling down. Ossus had been the Empires prick, and the rest followed." A hand appeared in view, dismissing the statement as the strangers head turned slightly away. Disgusted with the notion of Empire.
"I intrude upon your nations privacy though not for some history lesson, or to gloat about my accomplishments, which I will humbly admit are few. I talk upon you all a message not meant for you, but the fleeting shadows hiding within your bowels. I speak to all Sith, who are still loyal to the call of conquest, who shall not bow to any rule of the Imperial Theme. I speak to all Sith who seek to rule the stars. I speak of a League of sorts among us, to which we shall bathe ourselves in the ashes of the culled weak within the carcass of a bloated dull Empire." A faint light begins to appear below the speaker. The speech was well into its third minute, about to wrap up.
"No longer are we the fleeting shadows, now we have become the all consuming fire..." At this point, a clear fire burns through the body of the speaker... revealing his transparency, and revealing his identity finally. The fire spirals, and whips its painful tongues about in the air within Voracitos like some form immaterial, the shadows around the fire highlighting and outlining his farthest boundaries. His burning eyes bored through the views gaze, penetrating through them entirely with a clear malevolence.
"I call upon those who would be Warlords of a League of higher order, I Dead Emperor Voracitos call upon you to Ziost!" And with that all transmission was returned to normal, at four minutes and a handful of seconds. The call was made, who would come to take a peek at the Devil's Offer?
All across the Galaxy, the lights start to flicker. On monitors, an image can scarcely be glimpsed as the unknown signal cuts through the static and breaches the technological guards meant to prevent such massive and public intrusions. It was a hooded figure, and on worlds like Coruscant where the landscape was dominated by broadcast images, the effect was extreme. Eventually after a minute or so, the image finally won the fight over scheduled broadcasting. The fat man appeared before, hooded, and obscure. There was silence for twenty seconds as slowly, subtle features could be made out... such as the mans apparent obesity. Suddenly the talking began, the movements of his mouth evident and clear with the motion of the rest of his head.
"It is likely that after such a long time and with so few accomplishments the entire galaxy has forgotten who am, who I was, what I represented. You all celebrate prematurely, too quickly do you race to be ahead of everyone else. In doing this you have neglected to check if your back doors were locked while you were away, and now past enemies return to plague you again. I am that plague, and like the events of the "Dark Harvest", I am one of the dead, as dead as the Sith Empire now." He spoke in a voice that was essentially grinding glass, unpleasant and ignoring it was obviously not an option. The intrusive broadcast was no probably no more than a minute and a half inwards.
"In my own country, I was bestowed the title unsavory to my position as The Shadow, for my lack of presence in leadership, locked away within my own palace until I deigned to keep them in line. Unfortunately the unruly whelps didn't care for that very much, so much in fact the put their faith into a dull witted assassin who did his researched. Killed me with my weapon. A tiny prick, that's all it took to bring me crumbling down. Ossus had been the Empires prick, and the rest followed." A hand appeared in view, dismissing the statement as the strangers head turned slightly away. Disgusted with the notion of Empire.
"I intrude upon your nations privacy though not for some history lesson, or to gloat about my accomplishments, which I will humbly admit are few. I talk upon you all a message not meant for you, but the fleeting shadows hiding within your bowels. I speak to all Sith, who are still loyal to the call of conquest, who shall not bow to any rule of the Imperial Theme. I speak to all Sith who seek to rule the stars. I speak of a League of sorts among us, to which we shall bathe ourselves in the ashes of the culled weak within the carcass of a bloated dull Empire." A faint light begins to appear below the speaker. The speech was well into its third minute, about to wrap up.
"No longer are we the fleeting shadows, now we have become the all consuming fire..." At this point, a clear fire burns through the body of the speaker... revealing his transparency, and revealing his identity finally. The fire spirals, and whips its painful tongues about in the air within Voracitos like some form immaterial, the shadows around the fire highlighting and outlining his farthest boundaries. His burning eyes bored through the views gaze, penetrating through them entirely with a clear malevolence.
"I call upon those who would be Warlords of a League of higher order, I Dead Emperor Voracitos call upon you to Ziost!" And with that all transmission was returned to normal, at four minutes and a handful of seconds. The call was made, who would come to take a peek at the Devil's Offer?