Private To Be Warlock

[Hatred]

The Elder stepped through the halls of Kheedar's former kingdom. The castle, the keep, had been repurposed by those who survived the purge. His people had taken freedom for themselves, but they already knew that this freedom wasn't real. The galaxy was unforgiving. They were going to have to fight. To destroy that which demanded they serve. At some point many of them were human, but now their forms twisted. Some were more monstrous, bulky and demonic. Others kept their human forms but still had traces of the Nether changing parts of their bodies.

They were gathering. Searching for more information. The king had been a hoarder of knowledge, desiring the same thing so many here did. Dominion over the Force. The ability to utilize it for their own. To fight against the Force Users of the galaxy. Deals had been their first steps, but there was still more they could find. Still more they could utilize. The Elder paused, glancing over the shoulder of one of the monstrous folk. An old holoarchive, listing a list of artifacts that were said to be able to replicate the Force.

"Now that is interesting. We will have to explore that, won't we?"

The figure turned their head and bowed. They had lost their ability to speak through their mutations, but they had not lost their mind. Ever the scientist. Replication would be the ultimate goal. The more they could create, the more they could empower. The more who would be willing to fight.

"See what you can find on any traces. Inform me when you do, we will go on a hunt then."

The Lord of Hunger

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Kheedar
OBJECTIVE: Deliver them unto Hunger
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: Hatred

The Hunger Cometh

They seemed to be transfixed upon the holocron, all monstrocities, hardly even human in both their nature and their appearance, but where they were but touched by the nether, He was drenched in the void. Where they had but glimpsed at the endless darkness of what lay beyond the veils of reality, the shadow slowly closing in on the kingdom of Kheedar had reshapen itself, He had survived, He had thrived and he had overcome.

The ripple in the air arrived silently, as a creaking sound began to manifest itself, pressure began to build up, a cold swept across the place. Green lightning began to form within the room, a streak of lightning started to swirl and consume itself, expelling a black miasma which swallowed up more of the green lightning, until a large vortex of green energy and black smog seemed to rip the very air itself apart.

"Such curiosity, but no ingenuity to go with it," From the vortex, a skeletal hand, thin and long, with nails sharp as talons, skin as stretched as aged leather revealing itself, reachin outwards as if to pull what came behind it into the room. Vibrant crimson and golden irises surrounding an unnaturally slit pupil revealed themselves from the darkness, before finally the face of decay revealed itself. Sunken, hollow eyes, skin so tight and shrivelled it appeared as though it might crack open at any given time.

The cold intensified, a feeling of unmistakable dread gnawing in the back of each living creature's mind, before being followed by an immediate lethargy, a feeling of weakness and feebleness. The old, shrivelled man who walked out of the vortex, looked like both a hollowed monster, a wraith from the void, yet dressed in fineries and with an air surrounding them which could not be mistaken. If the king and his people were the lowest dredges among the nethertouched, this being was even beyond what even they could comprehend. "Replicating the force... you utter fools, do you truly think worms such as yourself are even remotely capable of such actions?"



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[Hatred]

Fear. Animalistic in nature, a basic urge that all living things felt, overcame all within the archives. The Nether had only turned their senses up. They weren't able to use the Force, not completely, but they could sense danger. A being of the void had come. As the lightning rippled out, all eyes turned to watch.

All heads lowered as the figure emerge. Not a voice spoke, not a set of eyes lifted. Only the Elder remained still, remained smiling as he watched the appearance of another touched by the Void. One that had entered and left. One that had found a way out that so many of Hatred's kin longed for. "Even worms can devour the bodies of gods. Any edge they can get can tip that balance."

He lowered his head then, a respectful bow. A hand, old and calloused from decades of working in the mines, settled on the monstrous scientist's shoulder. To ease them, remind them to breath. An empty, hollow gesture from Hatred's point of view, but loyalty was ever important.

"To what do we owe this honor? Has our cleanse of this world caught your eye?"

The Lord of Hunger