Private Along Came An Elf

[The Messenger]

His terrible gaze watched over the vast prairies as the sky blotted out in the form of an endless swarm of starships and a massive planetoid figure imposing it's figure on the planet below. The tall grass blew with the wind as it pushed against his back, the silence drowned out from the screams of nearby transports touching down. The Voice of the Maw stood still and basked in the dark energies that flowed from this dark world, the Dark Side of the Force was strong here. This would be their new capital, their throneworld from which they would build their monument of darkness and push out from across the galaxy in an effort to burn it all down. Yes, this was the beginning of their dark crusade and this place, this very place would be where they would anchor the Holy City of Gehinnom and construct their temples to the Hidden Maw.

There was so much history here, so many secrets buried beneath the surface. It was the home to the Sorcerers of Rhand, a world on the outcrop of the Nihil Retreat, and now the center of the Brotherhood's domain.

"She is here, your worship."

"Good. I wish to welcome her myself."

The dark prophet stood tall, his crowned headpiece offering only despair in his approach to those who came to hear the mouthpiece of their gods, the voice that spoke for the Avatars of War, Death, and Rebirth. Aspects of the Hidden Maw, the true deity and sole power that reigned over the Brotherhood of the Maw. The Hidden Maw was called many things to other cultures, the Dark Side, Bogan, the Dark, all these names and more. It did not matter to the Voice what one claimed over another, as long as they submitted to the word of the Heathen Priests, as long as they took up arms against a galaxy plagued by weakness and light.

His attention shifted, his mighty voice beckoned as he outstretched his sickening, pale hand in a welcoming manner. Taloned and frail, his hand opened motioning for the approaching figure to stand before him. " Lirka Ka "

 

[Lirka Ka]

Lirka had come to Rhand with the grandeur one would expect from a Sephi of her standing, she had not come in any single transport or shuttle, but instead a bizarre and alien warship: whilst not as mighty or imposing as the many dreadnoughts and battlecruisers that littered the Galaxy abundant: but it remained a flex of her power nonetheless. Hurling through the great void of the Chaos, dancing through the tumultuous nebulas of the Nihl Retreat: the prison of Rhand. It moved with a nimble and flowing grace as the slashed it's way through space, a stark contrast to the rough blockiness so common throughout the Galaxy now. The artistry of the Sephi was out of place in these foreign lands, but Lirka cared not for any such fact: for she was the Dark's champion, the exertion of his destructive will.

Rhand. Long had she waited for her iron boots to finally step foot on this most holy of place. The tides of the Unknown Regions were changing once more, and the Dark had willed its champion not to stay idle. Lirka's presence was heard long before it was seen, heavy iron feet clanged through the halls, and the infernal and constant chittering of a dozen Flakax attendees. Each moved with a careful reverence around the hulking monster of sharp metal plates, for the hives of the Flakax had already knelt to the Empress of Sumitra: an example of her dominance. Her presentation had been meticulously planned, they would all understand her majesty in time.

The puny insects heralded her arrival into the chamber, scampering out of her way as Lirka came to light: the dark armor glistened slightly in the light, the hum servos accompanied by the sickly glow that came from her helmet's emerald eyes; nothing of the monster beneath was show, her helmet blank and emotionless. An enigma, for her thoughts remained well shielded from the prying eyes of sorcerers: the Force laying all but dead within her prescence, a creature so foul such things had abandoned her now.

"The Champion of the Dark, Avatar of his boundless Destruction."

She was quick to tack the title onto her name as she approached, her voice garbled and distorted by the helm. She stood not with a subdued reverence, but with a flaming and apparent pride. For the path was simple, these were the peoples whom had seen the Galactic Truths, or they were simply pretenders. There was nothing to hide, no sly submission needed.

The Messenger

 

[The Messenger]

The Voice smiled under the wicked crown that adorned his brow, it's ominous guard covered half his face leaving the nose and mouth exposed. He pressed his hands together, there was an aura of excitement yet danger about him, something not all there. She could not sense the Force yet that much was clear.

"Amazing."

The Voice spoke out to the self-proclaimed champion of the Dark. "You truly are cut off from the Hidden Maw's graces, if the Dark favors you so why does it hold you back? Perhaps it isn't.. perhaps this is a blessing."

His right hand stretched out and folded into clenched fist, "Join us, we have need of one such as yourself. The bidding of the darkness must be fulfilled, the galaxy must be purged in order for a new order to begin. One designed by the Dark itself, a correction of how the natural order should be to an imperfect galaxy."

The Voice of the Maw shifted his gaze back to the prairies and the sights before him, "Beautiful, it is strong here, powers ancient and long forgotten. The Dark, the Hidden Maw, they are the same. Help us serve the Dark and wash away the putrid remains of a broken galaxy kept alive by the traitorous Light."


Lirka Ka

 

[Lirka Ka]

Danger was Lirka's lifeblood, dancing from one slaughter to the next, laying low all who had dared rise up against her: Mandalore and countless other worlds had suffered under her iron clawed grasp, but suffering was only so much. She could lead a thousand worlds into damnation and it would mean little to the great abyssal Dark.

Held back? The words incited a sneer from the armored beast, but the distortion left it more like a bestial gurgle or growl.

"I suffer none of the weaknesses of the Rhandish Ilk, it is wise to remember such a thing."

She remained as abrasive as ever, it had seemed only right among these sorts. There was nothing but all consuming evil in the Nihl Retreat, and the only way to truly prosper amongst fiends was to be a greater one.

"It is good that helm hasn't blinded you so much as to see the truth: you do need me, the honed blade of the Dark, his chosen Daughter. It is nice to see you are not as daft as the other infants plaguing the Galaxy with their boundless stupidity..."

She paused for a brief moment, letting the words linger as this Priest continued, beauty? As she looked out on the empty and dull prairies of Rhand she was only reminded of the weakness and blind stupidity of the Sorcerers who had called this place home. Squandering their gift among nebula and endless, blind, nihlism.

"Power wasted. Tossed to stagnation by those so obsessed with destruction they can not understand the Grand Paradox."

She turned from the view to face the lanky, disgusting, creature before her. He repulsed the Sephi, in his own puny little way. But such was the way of the Galaxy, all these old seers and sorcerers trying to make the Galaxy bend to their views, Force Cults that had birthed the monster before them. A stark nod given to the man, they were agreement enough.

"Our desires cross, this is acceptable.'

She turned back to the view of Rhand, a low grumble from the blank-faced helm.

"I shall remake this world. I will succeed where the idiocy of the Sorcerers failed."

The Messenger

 

[The Messenger]

The Champion of the Dark spoke and the Dark Voice listened. His dreadful gaze masked by the facial covering adorned to his crown, a symbol of his place among the Maw. When he spoke, the heathen horde acted. Legions raised from the corners of the galaxy ready to unleash war upon the festering weakness that plagued the galaxy, the Light.

"Indeed. Our visions cross, the galaxy is ripe for the picking.. If you wish to remake this world.. you may have it. There will be only two temples that will be out of your grasp. A donation to the Knights of Ren, and a grand temple to the Hidden Maw, the focal point of the Brotherhood's beliefs."

He stretched out his hand over the horizon and chuckled, "All this potential. It is yours. May your reign bring the Brotherhood strength, the Heathen Priests will be pleased. I welcome you and annoit you dear Warlord of the Maw."

The Dark Voice stepped away, his gaze shifting over his shoulder, "Come we have a crusade to indulge and you.. further subjects to claim."



Lirka Ka