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The Coming of Fear
by Zaros Mon Jul 25, 2016 1:53 am
Kresh’alam Dor. It had been his capitol world as well. And as his Empire crumbled around him he worked furiously to save himself. In his heart of hearts, he was selfish and cowardly. He was the antithesis of courage. He was Fear. As such he knew a lost cause when he saw one. And so as his enemies pounded upon the gates of his once-mighty citadel he stood within a secret laboratory where he had been researching dangerous magicks and more ways in which to use the power he had amassed. He had lived for millennia, the first Exercion ever made, and he was as wily and cunning as they came. As Fear, however, he had amassed ten times the power of any of his brethern. Whole worlds had been sucked dry by his eternal hunger. There were dead worlds in his empire that had been conquered because he had made fear slaves of all but the most powerful beings, and those his brothers and sisters had butchered. None in the empire could match his power.
But there was always the external threat, and one who could make him look like a toy soldier. The only one Zaros actually feared. His keen, analytical mind knew that even should he defeat the armies amassed before his citadel, the one he feared would come for him and he would be at his weakest. So rather than attempt to salvage his power, he decided to start over. He would go to a new reality. One that in which this being, hopefully, would not exist. One where he could conquer again whole galaxies. But it would require a sacrifice. And that sacrifice was most of the power he had gathered since escaping the pocket reality in which he had been born. And it meant that the control mechanisms placed upon the secret buried in the bedrock of this planet would be utterly destroyed and it would be loose upon this universe. That, however, would shortly no longer be his problem.
So it was that throughout Kresh’alam Dor, the mentally inferior began losing their minds and their will to fight. They ran screaming from their posts, convinced that their worst nightmares were coming true. It even happened within the opposing army. They fired into their own ranks or detonated grenades to commit suicide rather than face the worst of their fears. He fed on each spike of his favorite food and used it to fuel the greatest feat of power his empire had ever seen. Secreted in the depths of his home, he formed a sphere of distorted reality just large enough to fit himself inside. And then he poured enormous amounts of his power, squirrieled away for a rainy day, into it. He forced the sphere to separate his corporeal form from this reality and into a gateway of his own devising. A gateway that would lead him, hopefully, to safety. A place where he could rebuild.
Now, this was no easy feat, shredding reality to tatters so that he might save himself. Hundreds of his subjects, all of whom he had fed upon steadily throughout the whole of their lives until now, became worthless as defenders for his city. Thousands of men, women and children became instant thralls who only felt one emotion. Fear. Everywhere the enemy looked people were cowering, shaking, weeping, screaming, crying out to be saved by their emperor. He was deaf to their pleas. He had done this to them after all. He let out a roar as the power thundered out of him and into the shifting bubble of warped space. His skin, which had been the hardest substance known to the empire, softened and became malleable. His food sources winked out rapidly and he finally felt those that were left alive dwindle away as he commanded his own sphere of sundered reality to shift. He felt it, a sort of wrenching twist inside that meant his prey had been left behind.
In the new Kresh’alam Dor, the one he did not realize was ruled by Hatred, the weak willed and soft were beginning to hallucinate. The Emperor would see it almost at once. People were crying and gibbering in fear, running from their mates in terror and looking at their friends as if they had turned into a Dra’sin. Arcerion himself might feel the sheer magnitude of power coming from within his own city. It was in the bowels of the city, a place the Emperor had probably never been to. Unless he had his own secret lair there as well. Either way, he, and his guards, could feel reality warping within the city. A tremendous power was being born within the capitol city of the Dorian Empire. It lasted for mere minutes, but many people had already gone insane by the time it was over. Zaros, the Fearmonger, had arrived in his new home. He released the sphere and could be seen by whoever happened to be nearby rising from one knee, his body language communicating that he was exhausted by the trip. He was tall. Exercion tall. He was seven feet, five inches of hard, packed muscle. He was not bulky by any means, but he was heavier than the swimmer’s build of a Bale. He wore a grey uniform much like the one Arcerion wore at formal occasions, however the symbols of the Stygian Raven had been replaced by a laughing skull with a third eye socket in the forehead that held what looked to be like a vortex or maelstrom translated into thread. His cape hung from his broad shoulders, a light-sucking black. But a strange thing happened to his face for each person who looked upon it. It transformed, from person to person, showing them that person they feared most. And as they began to look upon him he instantly reached out for the sustenance of their fear. He cared not who they thought they were seeing. Only that they feared him.
He drank in their fear as a man dying of thirst drinks water. Anyone watching could see the difference feeding caused. His back straightened, his limbs went from listless to useful once again. He flexed his fingers as strength returned to them. Normally the fear of the Guise was too much for people to overcome, however, if anyone standing nearby was feeling courageous, he knew immediately as his feeding from that source was staunched and he looked at that person and reached for the blocked, but still burning, flame of fear and instantly used his aura to bring it back to the fore. However, when he judged himself recovered enough to speak, he reached up with one hand and removed the Guise of Terror from over his handsome face. He looked at them all, “Take me to whomever rules you, creatures, that I may make myself known to him.”
But there was always the external threat, and one who could make him look like a toy soldier. The only one Zaros actually feared. His keen, analytical mind knew that even should he defeat the armies amassed before his citadel, the one he feared would come for him and he would be at his weakest. So rather than attempt to salvage his power, he decided to start over. He would go to a new reality. One that in which this being, hopefully, would not exist. One where he could conquer again whole galaxies. But it would require a sacrifice. And that sacrifice was most of the power he had gathered since escaping the pocket reality in which he had been born. And it meant that the control mechanisms placed upon the secret buried in the bedrock of this planet would be utterly destroyed and it would be loose upon this universe. That, however, would shortly no longer be his problem.
So it was that throughout Kresh’alam Dor, the mentally inferior began losing their minds and their will to fight. They ran screaming from their posts, convinced that their worst nightmares were coming true. It even happened within the opposing army. They fired into their own ranks or detonated grenades to commit suicide rather than face the worst of their fears. He fed on each spike of his favorite food and used it to fuel the greatest feat of power his empire had ever seen. Secreted in the depths of his home, he formed a sphere of distorted reality just large enough to fit himself inside. And then he poured enormous amounts of his power, squirrieled away for a rainy day, into it. He forced the sphere to separate his corporeal form from this reality and into a gateway of his own devising. A gateway that would lead him, hopefully, to safety. A place where he could rebuild.
Now, this was no easy feat, shredding reality to tatters so that he might save himself. Hundreds of his subjects, all of whom he had fed upon steadily throughout the whole of their lives until now, became worthless as defenders for his city. Thousands of men, women and children became instant thralls who only felt one emotion. Fear. Everywhere the enemy looked people were cowering, shaking, weeping, screaming, crying out to be saved by their emperor. He was deaf to their pleas. He had done this to them after all. He let out a roar as the power thundered out of him and into the shifting bubble of warped space. His skin, which had been the hardest substance known to the empire, softened and became malleable. His food sources winked out rapidly and he finally felt those that were left alive dwindle away as he commanded his own sphere of sundered reality to shift. He felt it, a sort of wrenching twist inside that meant his prey had been left behind.
In the new Kresh’alam Dor, the one he did not realize was ruled by Hatred, the weak willed and soft were beginning to hallucinate. The Emperor would see it almost at once. People were crying and gibbering in fear, running from their mates in terror and looking at their friends as if they had turned into a Dra’sin. Arcerion himself might feel the sheer magnitude of power coming from within his own city. It was in the bowels of the city, a place the Emperor had probably never been to. Unless he had his own secret lair there as well. Either way, he, and his guards, could feel reality warping within the city. A tremendous power was being born within the capitol city of the Dorian Empire. It lasted for mere minutes, but many people had already gone insane by the time it was over. Zaros, the Fearmonger, had arrived in his new home. He released the sphere and could be seen by whoever happened to be nearby rising from one knee, his body language communicating that he was exhausted by the trip. He was tall. Exercion tall. He was seven feet, five inches of hard, packed muscle. He was not bulky by any means, but he was heavier than the swimmer’s build of a Bale. He wore a grey uniform much like the one Arcerion wore at formal occasions, however the symbols of the Stygian Raven had been replaced by a laughing skull with a third eye socket in the forehead that held what looked to be like a vortex or maelstrom translated into thread. His cape hung from his broad shoulders, a light-sucking black. But a strange thing happened to his face for each person who looked upon it. It transformed, from person to person, showing them that person they feared most. And as they began to look upon him he instantly reached out for the sustenance of their fear. He cared not who they thought they were seeing. Only that they feared him.
He drank in their fear as a man dying of thirst drinks water. Anyone watching could see the difference feeding caused. His back straightened, his limbs went from listless to useful once again. He flexed his fingers as strength returned to them. Normally the fear of the Guise was too much for people to overcome, however, if anyone standing nearby was feeling courageous, he knew immediately as his feeding from that source was staunched and he looked at that person and reached for the blocked, but still burning, flame of fear and instantly used his aura to bring it back to the fore. However, when he judged himself recovered enough to speak, he reached up with one hand and removed the Guise of Terror from over his handsome face. He looked at them all, “Take me to whomever rules you, creatures, that I may make myself known to him.”
Zaros- nooblin
- Posts : 5
Join date : 2016-07-24
Re: The Coming of Fear
by Arcerion Mon Jul 25, 2016 8:15 pm
Kresh’alam Dor was as ever full of life and deceit. As any political center was rife to be. Petty squabbles as people attempted to rally for the Emperor’s favor. Hatred between rivals however did not burn hot like it did on the fringes, here it was cold, long and plotting. Taking more joy in the downfall of a rival by proving themselves the superior. Though sometimes there was a bit of espionage, and an accident here or there happened from time to time.The people however were united by the propaganda he and his family had made through centuries. The days of conquering planet by planet had long passed.
The Emperor himself was not one to walk the streets of his vibrant city without an escort, it was simply the way of things. Within his personal study, with three doors. One which lead back to the palace proper, another which lead to the manor his mate the empress frequented, and finally the third which lead to ‘mothers’ realm, the family labs. Working at a terminal which connected to ancient logs, he was busy putting the mass of his herds mind to work. Utilizing their subconscious as a kind of neural network to help rapidly translate what he was working on. Near the cusp of a breakthrough, he felt something within the reality near one of his many herds. Something powerful and hungry had come to Kresh’alam Dor. And though it had triggered local sensors and alarms were now blaring along the spore ways, it had not tripped the orbital defenses. Arcerion sensed a kind of kindred connection there. A new Exercion had either been born among his people, or had transported itself here secretely. He rose from his seat, and made to gather his things, his mind already sending out the call for those within the guard’s ranks that could resist an Exercion’s natural ability to instill an emotion into others.
Within the streets, Zaro’s inspired fear and lunacy as he fed indiscriminately upon men and women alike. Some ran screaming into traffic, others clawed at their faces and drew blood, while still others curled into fetal positions ready to die. The few of the guard who were courageous enough to resist the initial encounter would find their fears brought to the forefront of their mind, and while fifty had been present luckily enough, only three stood staunchly against the whole of Zaro’s instil attack. Though they had fear, they were also among the most hardened of the guard, the horror’s of war and rebellion had tempered them just enough that they knew facing their fears was the only way to combat them. As the rest of their men crumbled, even an odd man or two shooting themselves in the head to escape their fear, these three were resolute. However these three had their work cut out for them, saving lives of fellow guardsmen and women as well as civilians. The casualties were there, but if not for them, they might of been much higher in the bowels of Kresh’alam Dor.
As the Fearmonger was sated and removed his need to feed indiscriminately from the sheep around him, people came to their senses. Some weeping for fallen friends, and others yelling in pain at the damage they had caused themselves. Some few of this would even be tempered further by it, a new look on life coming to them. Time would tell just what they might be capable of thanks to Zaro’s sparking something deep within them. As he spoke descending from the air seven men in advanced power armor descended, not unlike the armor his former general Sergei had worn. They landed surrounding the being and hearing his demand. The open spore ways transferring this command and visual to Arcerion himself.
“Quite a mess ya made ‘ere.” Came the modulated voice from one of the shortest of the guards. He shrugged though and would begin to subvocally command the forty some guardsmen to switch to healing protocols, and save as many civilians as they could. While he and his six would do what they could for this one’s demands. “I care not if ya just ascended to that mantle or’ve known about it for centuries. Ya’ll follow me Exercion, the emperor hates to be left waiting when meeting new family.” he strode forward confidently until the 5’6’’ form of the leader of elites, was within five feet of the former Emperor. He raised a hand as his armor disassembled from his body, using magnetic fields to construct a tear in the fabric of space-time and cause a co-location between here and the emperor’s throne room. The man beneath had a rough look to him, a soldier by every sense of the word, a shock of brown hair and a pair of neon green eye’s marked his bloodline. He stepped forward confidently, and when Zaros and the rest of his team followed he would reassert his will onto his power armor and force it to reform around him.
Within the throne room, Zaro’s may find similarities to his own, though there were bound to be differences. Arcerion chose to lead by council of three as the Shuinsai had done in the past. Three throne’s for the heads of the family. In the center back wall was his own double throne where he and Kanatal might sit on days. To the left was the throne for Kitsuko’s brood, his mother always given a place of honor as her unique experiences allowed for different thoughts. The foxes that clung to the throne, some stuffed, others real simply solidified her unique sense of humor with what she did with the dead. To the right, was a simple throne made of wood and adorned with a heap of musical instruments, mostly strings. The chair had rarely if ever been used, and it was meant for Thargor, or one of his bloodline that may eventually step up to take his place. Truthfully the other two heads of the family had rarely taken interest in what Arcerion did, since the Nexxus wars conclusion, it was rarely if ever that they took their place to lead.
Standing before his throne, Arcerion was adorned in similar garb to Zaro’s. Only the slight height difference, and the difference in emblems and well potentially hairstyle might of been able to tell them apart. A strand of loose black to white hair was brushed out of his face that he might more easily take in the measure of the new Exercion. White gloved hands, and the sound of metal upon metal clanking beneath the trappings of an emperor could be heard. He did not address the Exercion first, though there was something familiar in the back of his mind to this one. One of the one’s dead in his civil war? Interesting.
“Commander, thank you for your swift work. I now require you to deliver news to the people of what happened. A new type of weapon used by rebel sympathizers in our midsts should suffice. No need to bring to light the fact that it was an Exercion feeding indiscriminately. We want them to adore us, and strive to become like Sergei, not start a witch hunt.” The man nodded and moved to remove himself and his guards from the throne room, but Arcerion would speak again before he was fully away. “One last thing Keldon, your brother is late with his report. Again. If it continues to be a problem, I’ll have him pulled from duty and sent to a camp for reeducation. Dismissed.” The commander nodded and left, cursing under his breath.
Finally alone, Arcerion looked Zaros over, something about him reminded him of someone from his past. An empire had fallen, that much had been reported by the Enneract, and the thing they all strove to keep held was loosed upon an unsuspecting realm. It would inevitably fall, but for hours or weeks, more power would be needed to keep that which he spoke little of, caged. “I am Emperor Arcerion Vileur-Shuinsai, leader of the Dorian Empire, to whom do I owe the pleasure of separating the chaff from my guardsmen and civilians?” He could of opened with degrading this emperor for leaving his post, for letting loose their collective enemy. However he didn’t believe someone would do such a thing without good reason. Truth be told, if he could hone in on the place where Zaro’s was from, they might both gain a bit of insight into the true power of that beast. Arcerion was all about taking bad situations and making them work for him, even if this particular situation was not something he could of predicted.
The Emperor himself was not one to walk the streets of his vibrant city without an escort, it was simply the way of things. Within his personal study, with three doors. One which lead back to the palace proper, another which lead to the manor his mate the empress frequented, and finally the third which lead to ‘mothers’ realm, the family labs. Working at a terminal which connected to ancient logs, he was busy putting the mass of his herds mind to work. Utilizing their subconscious as a kind of neural network to help rapidly translate what he was working on. Near the cusp of a breakthrough, he felt something within the reality near one of his many herds. Something powerful and hungry had come to Kresh’alam Dor. And though it had triggered local sensors and alarms were now blaring along the spore ways, it had not tripped the orbital defenses. Arcerion sensed a kind of kindred connection there. A new Exercion had either been born among his people, or had transported itself here secretely. He rose from his seat, and made to gather his things, his mind already sending out the call for those within the guard’s ranks that could resist an Exercion’s natural ability to instill an emotion into others.
Within the streets, Zaro’s inspired fear and lunacy as he fed indiscriminately upon men and women alike. Some ran screaming into traffic, others clawed at their faces and drew blood, while still others curled into fetal positions ready to die. The few of the guard who were courageous enough to resist the initial encounter would find their fears brought to the forefront of their mind, and while fifty had been present luckily enough, only three stood staunchly against the whole of Zaro’s instil attack. Though they had fear, they were also among the most hardened of the guard, the horror’s of war and rebellion had tempered them just enough that they knew facing their fears was the only way to combat them. As the rest of their men crumbled, even an odd man or two shooting themselves in the head to escape their fear, these three were resolute. However these three had their work cut out for them, saving lives of fellow guardsmen and women as well as civilians. The casualties were there, but if not for them, they might of been much higher in the bowels of Kresh’alam Dor.
As the Fearmonger was sated and removed his need to feed indiscriminately from the sheep around him, people came to their senses. Some weeping for fallen friends, and others yelling in pain at the damage they had caused themselves. Some few of this would even be tempered further by it, a new look on life coming to them. Time would tell just what they might be capable of thanks to Zaro’s sparking something deep within them. As he spoke descending from the air seven men in advanced power armor descended, not unlike the armor his former general Sergei had worn. They landed surrounding the being and hearing his demand. The open spore ways transferring this command and visual to Arcerion himself.
“Quite a mess ya made ‘ere.” Came the modulated voice from one of the shortest of the guards. He shrugged though and would begin to subvocally command the forty some guardsmen to switch to healing protocols, and save as many civilians as they could. While he and his six would do what they could for this one’s demands. “I care not if ya just ascended to that mantle or’ve known about it for centuries. Ya’ll follow me Exercion, the emperor hates to be left waiting when meeting new family.” he strode forward confidently until the 5’6’’ form of the leader of elites, was within five feet of the former Emperor. He raised a hand as his armor disassembled from his body, using magnetic fields to construct a tear in the fabric of space-time and cause a co-location between here and the emperor’s throne room. The man beneath had a rough look to him, a soldier by every sense of the word, a shock of brown hair and a pair of neon green eye’s marked his bloodline. He stepped forward confidently, and when Zaros and the rest of his team followed he would reassert his will onto his power armor and force it to reform around him.
Within the throne room, Zaro’s may find similarities to his own, though there were bound to be differences. Arcerion chose to lead by council of three as the Shuinsai had done in the past. Three throne’s for the heads of the family. In the center back wall was his own double throne where he and Kanatal might sit on days. To the left was the throne for Kitsuko’s brood, his mother always given a place of honor as her unique experiences allowed for different thoughts. The foxes that clung to the throne, some stuffed, others real simply solidified her unique sense of humor with what she did with the dead. To the right, was a simple throne made of wood and adorned with a heap of musical instruments, mostly strings. The chair had rarely if ever been used, and it was meant for Thargor, or one of his bloodline that may eventually step up to take his place. Truthfully the other two heads of the family had rarely taken interest in what Arcerion did, since the Nexxus wars conclusion, it was rarely if ever that they took their place to lead.
Standing before his throne, Arcerion was adorned in similar garb to Zaro’s. Only the slight height difference, and the difference in emblems and well potentially hairstyle might of been able to tell them apart. A strand of loose black to white hair was brushed out of his face that he might more easily take in the measure of the new Exercion. White gloved hands, and the sound of metal upon metal clanking beneath the trappings of an emperor could be heard. He did not address the Exercion first, though there was something familiar in the back of his mind to this one. One of the one’s dead in his civil war? Interesting.
“Commander, thank you for your swift work. I now require you to deliver news to the people of what happened. A new type of weapon used by rebel sympathizers in our midsts should suffice. No need to bring to light the fact that it was an Exercion feeding indiscriminately. We want them to adore us, and strive to become like Sergei, not start a witch hunt.” The man nodded and moved to remove himself and his guards from the throne room, but Arcerion would speak again before he was fully away. “One last thing Keldon, your brother is late with his report. Again. If it continues to be a problem, I’ll have him pulled from duty and sent to a camp for reeducation. Dismissed.” The commander nodded and left, cursing under his breath.
Finally alone, Arcerion looked Zaros over, something about him reminded him of someone from his past. An empire had fallen, that much had been reported by the Enneract, and the thing they all strove to keep held was loosed upon an unsuspecting realm. It would inevitably fall, but for hours or weeks, more power would be needed to keep that which he spoke little of, caged. “I am Emperor Arcerion Vileur-Shuinsai, leader of the Dorian Empire, to whom do I owe the pleasure of separating the chaff from my guardsmen and civilians?” He could of opened with degrading this emperor for leaving his post, for letting loose their collective enemy. However he didn’t believe someone would do such a thing without good reason. Truth be told, if he could hone in on the place where Zaro’s was from, they might both gain a bit of insight into the true power of that beast. Arcerion was all about taking bad situations and making them work for him, even if this particular situation was not something he could of predicted.
Arcerion- Salty Dog
- Posts : 54
Join date : 2015-03-02
Re: The Coming of Fear
by Zaros Mon Jul 25, 2016 9:18 pm
Zaros watched as the three staunch guardians faced their fears before him. Perhaps Courage had done his work upon them. The loss of his own opposite in his own reality had been a mixed bag of emotions. On the one hand, one of his Empire’s greatest defenders had fallen. On the other, he had no blind spot. A being so void of fear that he made Zaros’ skin crawl just by his mere presence. Either way, he had been preparing to eviscerate them when the seven dropped in to escort him to the Emperor. His lips twisted in a smirk as he responded, “Dear boy, I excel at making messes. Cleaning them up is a job for lesser beings.” He stooped to look at the speaker, still smirking, “Oh I think you care. Because I am a security risk. You know not how much control over my power I have, or how much knowledge I have. Was my feeding complete? Am I still feeding? Do I grow stronger with every moment that passes? I am an Exercion, boy, and you would do well to remember it.” This was communicated in a sibilant hiss, one that spoke of a towering arrogance. Yes. He had been an Emperor. He motioned for the armored lapdog to lead on and followed him into the portal.
Upon entrance to the throne room, he noticed one major difference. Where he was used to seeing one throne, there were now three, if you counted the double as a singular throne. His brow perked, slightly off-kilter by this major change. This man did not rule alone? But then he was distracted at the visage now brought to his attention. He gave commands to the guards, who immediately left, but not without one reprimand, and then they were alone. His brows attempted to climb his forehead as Arcerion made his introduction. The lover boy was Emperor? No wonder his people were soft. He let the moment stretch as he attempted to digest this information. It hit him before long. This was a joke. He laughed softly, “You almost had me there, lover boy. Where is the true Emperor? I have things that must be discussed with him. Or her, depending upon which path this reality took.”
“However, I will answer your question, because of your excellent joke. I am Zaros, the Fearmonger, Lord of Terror. I was the Emperor of a nation much the same as this one. In my own timeline, of course. Firstborn of the Exercion species.” He spoke as if by rote for most of it, however the titles ‘Fearmonger’ and ‘Lord of Terror’, he said with something akin to relish in his voice. Yes. Those ones he had earned himself. Took pride in them. He began to pace the width of the hall before Arcerion, hands moving behind his back as he took in the aspects of the throne room, “Now, if you would be so kind as to fetch your master, we can proceed with the business at hand.”
As for that thing that they had both been guardians of, he hoped that it ravaged the universe he had just come from for years before it fell. He wanted them to realize the service he had done them all by keeping it caged. What their own greed and pride had loosed upon them. Destroying its bonds had been intentional, and now they would reap their just reward. Their own demise, he hoped. Zaros was not above spite. He wondered, idly, if the Emperor in this reality had managed to kill the thing. Zaros could have done it. With all the power he had amassed over the millennia, he could have found a way to kill it. However, he had rather liked the idea of keeping it for a rainy day. And such a decision had proved wise.
Upon entrance to the throne room, he noticed one major difference. Where he was used to seeing one throne, there were now three, if you counted the double as a singular throne. His brow perked, slightly off-kilter by this major change. This man did not rule alone? But then he was distracted at the visage now brought to his attention. He gave commands to the guards, who immediately left, but not without one reprimand, and then they were alone. His brows attempted to climb his forehead as Arcerion made his introduction. The lover boy was Emperor? No wonder his people were soft. He let the moment stretch as he attempted to digest this information. It hit him before long. This was a joke. He laughed softly, “You almost had me there, lover boy. Where is the true Emperor? I have things that must be discussed with him. Or her, depending upon which path this reality took.”
“However, I will answer your question, because of your excellent joke. I am Zaros, the Fearmonger, Lord of Terror. I was the Emperor of a nation much the same as this one. In my own timeline, of course. Firstborn of the Exercion species.” He spoke as if by rote for most of it, however the titles ‘Fearmonger’ and ‘Lord of Terror’, he said with something akin to relish in his voice. Yes. Those ones he had earned himself. Took pride in them. He began to pace the width of the hall before Arcerion, hands moving behind his back as he took in the aspects of the throne room, “Now, if you would be so kind as to fetch your master, we can proceed with the business at hand.”
As for that thing that they had both been guardians of, he hoped that it ravaged the universe he had just come from for years before it fell. He wanted them to realize the service he had done them all by keeping it caged. What their own greed and pride had loosed upon them. Destroying its bonds had been intentional, and now they would reap their just reward. Their own demise, he hoped. Zaros was not above spite. He wondered, idly, if the Emperor in this reality had managed to kill the thing. Zaros could have done it. With all the power he had amassed over the millennia, he could have found a way to kill it. However, he had rather liked the idea of keeping it for a rainy day. And such a decision had proved wise.
Zaros- nooblin
- Posts : 5
Join date : 2016-07-24
Re: The Coming of Fear
by Arcerion Mon Jul 25, 2016 11:57 pm
The man who would escort Zaros gave him a look as if he hardly cared if he was dirt or not. The man had seen and met Exercion’s, fought beside some and against others. They could be killed if you knew how. “You talk just like the noble’s. Too much.” Leading him through he kept his senses peeled just in case Zaros took offense to his words. It wouldn’t do to have a fight break out while his armor was off. Once stepping through and being berated because of his idiot brother he would simply nod and be off and let the two Exercion’s measure their dicks against one another.
Arcerion took the words that Zaros spoke to him in stride, not losing his temper as he called him by an old nickname no one had called him by in millenia. Back in that day he had been their stalwart shield, though he did say something interesting. First born? So there were realities where he had not been the first. Interesting, then if he was like him, a first batch Exercion, then it would be something of an equal in power he spoke to, at least as far as experiences went.
“Oh are we comparing titles now Zaros? Funny the last time I saw you was on the fields of Elysium, commanding a horde of Avarax monstrosities. We thought you died that day, the lord of justice, brought low by greed. I avenged you, as I did my wife and daughters, but at a cost Fearmonger.” He let loose the seventeen faces of hatred, those chains which wrapped about his body. Letting them hover in plain sight, black chains which distorted the reality around him by simple fact of existing. The air crackled with barely contained power, as his shadow dislocated itself from him. In the air Zaros could feel Arcerion’s own Aura of hatred, a roar of power that spoke to how vast and wide his herds were that he might draw power from. “I am no longer lover boy, Zaro’s. I am the Exercion of Hatred. The shade of malice. I am the voice born of stars and storms, which will bring low all of my enemies.” With his weapons in the air, he let the white chains slither forward and caress the air around him. From these he could feel faintly another pair of Exercion Aura’s. From these chains he could feel unity and, loneliness. Whatever he had done, Arcerion had bound the souls and aura’s of his own race into objects which he commanded. The threat was subtle, but it meant that if Zaro’s wished to fight him, he would do just the same to this Exercion as well.
He grinned a toothy shark like grin, something he had adopted from Thargor and later Kanatal. The sharpened teeth were proof that he was a beast, a thing of nightmares which hunted and killed at its own leisure. This was not a racial trait given to most Exercion’s but a point of pride those who basked in the more negative emotions did to themselves. Hopefully this all could persuade Zaro’s to retract his former statement. At this point they were both alpha’s in some way baring their fangs and vying for dominance over the other. His voice was calm, there was no need to hold back emotions which simply didn’t exist in him. Hate him? He was basically family. He had harmed people with no names. He would need to do much and more to cause a fear reaction from Arcerion, or cause the Exercion Lord to hate him and fully unveil the extent of his long hoarded power.
“Tell me Zaro’s you were once an Emperor who held power in our Enneract, and yet now you have abandoned your duty to us, and stand before me. Why? What enemy laid waste to an Exercion’s empire? Whether we become enemies or allies in this world I am undecided. However as we are both at least partly of a single mind concerning the beast below, allow me to give us some entertainment.” He let his mind move towards the Enneract, determining where the weakness was in their system, and then would home in on the world in which the beast now ran loose. A holographic projection was made from the top of his throne, letting the air between them now show the tragedies that would befall that realm, as Noque ran amok. This would allow both Emperor’s to better understand what they had worked to cage. To see it’s terrifying capabilities, first hand more or less. Such a treat.
He paced, thinking on this unlikely turn of events. Yet there was room for fear in the pantheon, with Elsydion dead, and his aura reverted to Courage, and inside an unlikely candidate, there would be need for fear in this day and age. “There are many questions I have. It is rare to see an original, let alone one who was first born as I was. What do you hope to accomplish by coming here?”
Arcerion took the words that Zaros spoke to him in stride, not losing his temper as he called him by an old nickname no one had called him by in millenia. Back in that day he had been their stalwart shield, though he did say something interesting. First born? So there were realities where he had not been the first. Interesting, then if he was like him, a first batch Exercion, then it would be something of an equal in power he spoke to, at least as far as experiences went.
“Oh are we comparing titles now Zaros? Funny the last time I saw you was on the fields of Elysium, commanding a horde of Avarax monstrosities. We thought you died that day, the lord of justice, brought low by greed. I avenged you, as I did my wife and daughters, but at a cost Fearmonger.” He let loose the seventeen faces of hatred, those chains which wrapped about his body. Letting them hover in plain sight, black chains which distorted the reality around him by simple fact of existing. The air crackled with barely contained power, as his shadow dislocated itself from him. In the air Zaros could feel Arcerion’s own Aura of hatred, a roar of power that spoke to how vast and wide his herds were that he might draw power from. “I am no longer lover boy, Zaro’s. I am the Exercion of Hatred. The shade of malice. I am the voice born of stars and storms, which will bring low all of my enemies.” With his weapons in the air, he let the white chains slither forward and caress the air around him. From these he could feel faintly another pair of Exercion Aura’s. From these chains he could feel unity and, loneliness. Whatever he had done, Arcerion had bound the souls and aura’s of his own race into objects which he commanded. The threat was subtle, but it meant that if Zaro’s wished to fight him, he would do just the same to this Exercion as well.
He grinned a toothy shark like grin, something he had adopted from Thargor and later Kanatal. The sharpened teeth were proof that he was a beast, a thing of nightmares which hunted and killed at its own leisure. This was not a racial trait given to most Exercion’s but a point of pride those who basked in the more negative emotions did to themselves. Hopefully this all could persuade Zaro’s to retract his former statement. At this point they were both alpha’s in some way baring their fangs and vying for dominance over the other. His voice was calm, there was no need to hold back emotions which simply didn’t exist in him. Hate him? He was basically family. He had harmed people with no names. He would need to do much and more to cause a fear reaction from Arcerion, or cause the Exercion Lord to hate him and fully unveil the extent of his long hoarded power.
“Tell me Zaro’s you were once an Emperor who held power in our Enneract, and yet now you have abandoned your duty to us, and stand before me. Why? What enemy laid waste to an Exercion’s empire? Whether we become enemies or allies in this world I am undecided. However as we are both at least partly of a single mind concerning the beast below, allow me to give us some entertainment.” He let his mind move towards the Enneract, determining where the weakness was in their system, and then would home in on the world in which the beast now ran loose. A holographic projection was made from the top of his throne, letting the air between them now show the tragedies that would befall that realm, as Noque ran amok. This would allow both Emperor’s to better understand what they had worked to cage. To see it’s terrifying capabilities, first hand more or less. Such a treat.
He paced, thinking on this unlikely turn of events. Yet there was room for fear in the pantheon, with Elsydion dead, and his aura reverted to Courage, and inside an unlikely candidate, there would be need for fear in this day and age. “There are many questions I have. It is rare to see an original, let alone one who was first born as I was. What do you hope to accomplish by coming here?”
Arcerion- Salty Dog
- Posts : 54
Join date : 2015-03-02
Re: The Coming of Fear
by Zaros Tue Jul 26, 2016 2:56 pm
Arcerion’s tone made him halt his pacing and turned toward the one he had assumed was the Exercion of Love. But the only real reaction he would garner with his display, at first, was one of interest and mild curiosity. To think. The Lover boy had inverted himself and garnered so much power. But then he smiled a rather dazzling smile. Rows of perfect, gleaming white teeth, unaltered by his whims. He rather preferred the contrast. Without the Guise of Terror, one would not think he was so monstrous on the inside. That was precisely why he had not altered his countenance. He wore a shore, well-kept beard, black with flecks of grey, and the same went with his hair. It was pushed back, long on the top with shaved down sides and back. He thought it made him look more respectable for those few occasions when the Guise was utterly inappropriate. His face was a lure, a clever trap to make people think he could be persuaded or bargained with. He was not that person.
Zaros nodded, “Well, I see you’ve had to make hard choices in this reality. My own version of you was rather useless. I’m rather pleased to see you doing so well for yourself, Arcerion.” On the one hand, what he said was true. He had sensed his own version of Arcerion’s potential, but it had never had to be realized because of who Zaros was and the way things played out. On the other, it meant his hopes of building a new Empire for himself were dashed, shattered into millions of pieces without hope of recall. He let none of his revelations show on his face as he watched Arcerion move to the console and bring up the visual of what Noque was doing to his enemies. It was then that Arcerion would feel hatred spiking within his guest. He hated those who had demolished his Empire. With a passion. However, as he recalled whom Arcerion was he mastered himself and the flames of hatred were smothered by calm.
He spread his hands, in one of which was still held the Guise of Terror, “Abandoned my duty? Well, perhaps, however, my duty was ended when the enemy began knocking upon my city gates. I am Fear, Arcerion, not Stupidity. I left that situation so that I might start again. After all, what purpose would my death serve? None, save those of the enemy. And unleashing Noque upon them was my choice. A choice I made willingly, even delightfully. I hope he rips their empire asunder and sends every last one of them careening into oblivion.” He stood resolute before Arcerion, “As for the enemy, if things went much the same here as they did in my reality, you know of whom I speak. The one who put an end to the Sin’vitae. He was quite unstoppable when he came upon my home. I’m sure you can see why I left. Self-preservation is a powerful motivator.”
He omitted the fact that he was genuinely afraid of this being. Even with all of his incredible power, he knew that there was no killing that man. So why try? He was roused from his reverie by Arcerion’s next question, looking away from the destruction Noque was wreaking in the reality he had just come from, “Hope to accomplish? Well, I will not lie. I was hoping to find a Kresh’alam Dor that had never known the touch of an Exercion. A place where I might rebuild my strength and begin building my Empire anew. However, I can see that such is not an option here and I no longer have the power to relocate myself to another reality. Let us say that now it is not my goal to occupy your throne, but there is a great deal you and I could accomplish together, Arcerion. Perhaps even bringing an end to the threat that ended my Empire. After all, given enough time I could match the might of any of his greatest champions, even best them. Very useful should he choose other than diplomacy, no?”
Zaros nodded, “Well, I see you’ve had to make hard choices in this reality. My own version of you was rather useless. I’m rather pleased to see you doing so well for yourself, Arcerion.” On the one hand, what he said was true. He had sensed his own version of Arcerion’s potential, but it had never had to be realized because of who Zaros was and the way things played out. On the other, it meant his hopes of building a new Empire for himself were dashed, shattered into millions of pieces without hope of recall. He let none of his revelations show on his face as he watched Arcerion move to the console and bring up the visual of what Noque was doing to his enemies. It was then that Arcerion would feel hatred spiking within his guest. He hated those who had demolished his Empire. With a passion. However, as he recalled whom Arcerion was he mastered himself and the flames of hatred were smothered by calm.
He spread his hands, in one of which was still held the Guise of Terror, “Abandoned my duty? Well, perhaps, however, my duty was ended when the enemy began knocking upon my city gates. I am Fear, Arcerion, not Stupidity. I left that situation so that I might start again. After all, what purpose would my death serve? None, save those of the enemy. And unleashing Noque upon them was my choice. A choice I made willingly, even delightfully. I hope he rips their empire asunder and sends every last one of them careening into oblivion.” He stood resolute before Arcerion, “As for the enemy, if things went much the same here as they did in my reality, you know of whom I speak. The one who put an end to the Sin’vitae. He was quite unstoppable when he came upon my home. I’m sure you can see why I left. Self-preservation is a powerful motivator.”
He omitted the fact that he was genuinely afraid of this being. Even with all of his incredible power, he knew that there was no killing that man. So why try? He was roused from his reverie by Arcerion’s next question, looking away from the destruction Noque was wreaking in the reality he had just come from, “Hope to accomplish? Well, I will not lie. I was hoping to find a Kresh’alam Dor that had never known the touch of an Exercion. A place where I might rebuild my strength and begin building my Empire anew. However, I can see that such is not an option here and I no longer have the power to relocate myself to another reality. Let us say that now it is not my goal to occupy your throne, but there is a great deal you and I could accomplish together, Arcerion. Perhaps even bringing an end to the threat that ended my Empire. After all, given enough time I could match the might of any of his greatest champions, even best them. Very useful should he choose other than diplomacy, no?”
Last edited by Zaros on Mon Aug 01, 2016 12:54 am; edited 1 time in total
Zaros- nooblin
- Posts : 5
Join date : 2016-07-24
Re: The Coming of Fear
by Arcerion Sat Jul 30, 2016 12:01 pm
Arcerion saw the returned smile, there was something familiar in it, the smile his first brother Elsydion had given him, continued to give him in his stasis. Of course that one had known loyalty to an extent, if not for his fear of what the knowledge he hoarded might force Arcerion to do, he may still yet live, and Zaros would have competition for food. He listened to Zaro’s speaking of how the other version of him was useless. It could be a truth, after all these were weird times with timelines and potentials, or in this case an Exercion that bore his name lacking his true potential. Even as Love, Arcerion in this realm had been a force to be reckoned with, the need to rule and protect had been ingrained into him at a very young age.
“Truly useless? A shame my other half could not fulfill a useful role to an emperor. Surely someone who loved so perfectly could be manipulated to your own whims. However we’re not here to debate what role I may of played, but role we can play to each other.” He could sense the flames of hate spiking within Zaro’s for the briefest of moments. The look of those Noque wrecked, brought realization to his eye’s. So this would be the fate of any Dorian empire that did not bow, or possess the power to win.
Arcerion chuckled when he mentioned not being the Exercion of Stupidity. Such a being would be powerful beyond belief, and an easy match to someone who had any combat experience. “An interesting choice.” Was all he could muster in response. Arcerion may of been hatred, but like his brother in arms he was not stupidity. If the time came, he would bow his head in defeat for the betterment of the universe, for the betterment of his family. Then again unlike Zaro’s he knew first hand the strength of the Celesin Emperor. The years of being locked away in a sub-realm he could not escape. The bargain of his daughter for release.
“I agree, self-preservation is a powerful motivator. Your actions have given us both a look at what our brother is capable of. Not a bad trade, and with your life still intact we can mayhaps learn from the body we entombed him in.” He continued to watch as the Proto-Exercion destroyed those before him, friend and foe alike with nary a sweat upon his face. The power of a true blooded Dra’sin, in harmony with the Exercion Hunger. Each fighting for dominance, sustaining the other near infinitely. It was a power even the Celesin Emperor would have trouble contending with. “Interesting, the one who routed our original enemies came to your gates. I suppose it could be a premonition of things to come. Luckily for us here, we have found a place and time to hone our abilities.” A new hologram sprung up which showed Sanctum in it’s glory. The allied nations and such given a Dorian symbol and Celesin given their own proper lion crest.
“We find it odd that a single planet shall be the battle field, but at the same time, the logistics of war are simplified exponentially by limiting us to one planet. It becomes less taxing upon the populace, and thus can hope to give us a clearer view of the battle fields. Though I doubt greatly I rule the same way you had. We of Dorian have crafted laws and governmental bodies which exalt those of great skill and loyalty, and punish the traitors and worthless. Surely the reason you were picked out first among our emperor’s was simple, you brought too much attention to yourself.” He chuckled a bit and allowed a moment to take in just what Zaro’s was saying. He had come to conquer, but now found himself too weak to accomplish such. Though he could easily become more powerful quickly, that would again bring too much attention to them. He nodded as it seemed him and Zaro’s were of the same mind. Eliminate any threat to their survival, live and win. Simple concepts, that the Exercion’s had always lived by.
“If they should not choose diplomacy? They never choose such things. They take what they believe wrongly is there’s treading upon the history of countless races and bringing them in line. I believe however we should not concern ourselves with destroying their empire. Such is a fool's errand.” He shook his head and moved over to his throne and sat down crossing his right leg over his left and grinning to himself. “I have given them many chances to form diplomatic relations. After all, we were both made for the same purpose, why shouldn’t we work together? I hold one of the only surviving records of the Sin’viate, and as reality spins on, we grow closer and closer to deciphering their language and fully understanding what these things were. Understanding is the first key to unlocking their potential and bringing it back into the fold, under our guidance. With another Emperor here, our efforts could be doubled, discoveries that may of taken me years might now be only months away. Of course I would share the fruits of all our research. I believe in rewarding those who work for the greater good of all realms.”
He pondered a moment, he had many questions concerning Zaros and his former life. However there was something at the forefront of his mind he would speak first. “If diplomacy is truly off the table with our enemies, then I propose we retake the mantle we had in our own civil war. Not destroyer’s or conqueror's. The Exercion people shall once more take the field as liberators of the downtrodden. Nothing rallies the masses quite like a call for liberation and the ability to better themselves.” Now it was his turn to really pry into his new brothers life, and just what he had at his disposal and to learn and compare. “Tell me Zaros, where you hail from were the Bales also loyal to you? Did the Starbodies bow when you brought low their king and queen, hungry for the next war you could give them? What was your technology? Did Thargor live or Die?”
“Truly useless? A shame my other half could not fulfill a useful role to an emperor. Surely someone who loved so perfectly could be manipulated to your own whims. However we’re not here to debate what role I may of played, but role we can play to each other.” He could sense the flames of hate spiking within Zaro’s for the briefest of moments. The look of those Noque wrecked, brought realization to his eye’s. So this would be the fate of any Dorian empire that did not bow, or possess the power to win.
Arcerion chuckled when he mentioned not being the Exercion of Stupidity. Such a being would be powerful beyond belief, and an easy match to someone who had any combat experience. “An interesting choice.” Was all he could muster in response. Arcerion may of been hatred, but like his brother in arms he was not stupidity. If the time came, he would bow his head in defeat for the betterment of the universe, for the betterment of his family. Then again unlike Zaro’s he knew first hand the strength of the Celesin Emperor. The years of being locked away in a sub-realm he could not escape. The bargain of his daughter for release.
“I agree, self-preservation is a powerful motivator. Your actions have given us both a look at what our brother is capable of. Not a bad trade, and with your life still intact we can mayhaps learn from the body we entombed him in.” He continued to watch as the Proto-Exercion destroyed those before him, friend and foe alike with nary a sweat upon his face. The power of a true blooded Dra’sin, in harmony with the Exercion Hunger. Each fighting for dominance, sustaining the other near infinitely. It was a power even the Celesin Emperor would have trouble contending with. “Interesting, the one who routed our original enemies came to your gates. I suppose it could be a premonition of things to come. Luckily for us here, we have found a place and time to hone our abilities.” A new hologram sprung up which showed Sanctum in it’s glory. The allied nations and such given a Dorian symbol and Celesin given their own proper lion crest.
“We find it odd that a single planet shall be the battle field, but at the same time, the logistics of war are simplified exponentially by limiting us to one planet. It becomes less taxing upon the populace, and thus can hope to give us a clearer view of the battle fields. Though I doubt greatly I rule the same way you had. We of Dorian have crafted laws and governmental bodies which exalt those of great skill and loyalty, and punish the traitors and worthless. Surely the reason you were picked out first among our emperor’s was simple, you brought too much attention to yourself.” He chuckled a bit and allowed a moment to take in just what Zaro’s was saying. He had come to conquer, but now found himself too weak to accomplish such. Though he could easily become more powerful quickly, that would again bring too much attention to them. He nodded as it seemed him and Zaro’s were of the same mind. Eliminate any threat to their survival, live and win. Simple concepts, that the Exercion’s had always lived by.
“If they should not choose diplomacy? They never choose such things. They take what they believe wrongly is there’s treading upon the history of countless races and bringing them in line. I believe however we should not concern ourselves with destroying their empire. Such is a fool's errand.” He shook his head and moved over to his throne and sat down crossing his right leg over his left and grinning to himself. “I have given them many chances to form diplomatic relations. After all, we were both made for the same purpose, why shouldn’t we work together? I hold one of the only surviving records of the Sin’viate, and as reality spins on, we grow closer and closer to deciphering their language and fully understanding what these things were. Understanding is the first key to unlocking their potential and bringing it back into the fold, under our guidance. With another Emperor here, our efforts could be doubled, discoveries that may of taken me years might now be only months away. Of course I would share the fruits of all our research. I believe in rewarding those who work for the greater good of all realms.”
He pondered a moment, he had many questions concerning Zaros and his former life. However there was something at the forefront of his mind he would speak first. “If diplomacy is truly off the table with our enemies, then I propose we retake the mantle we had in our own civil war. Not destroyer’s or conqueror's. The Exercion people shall once more take the field as liberators of the downtrodden. Nothing rallies the masses quite like a call for liberation and the ability to better themselves.” Now it was his turn to really pry into his new brothers life, and just what he had at his disposal and to learn and compare. “Tell me Zaros, where you hail from were the Bales also loyal to you? Did the Starbodies bow when you brought low their king and queen, hungry for the next war you could give them? What was your technology? Did Thargor live or Die?”
Arcerion- Salty Dog
- Posts : 54
Join date : 2015-03-02
Re: The Coming of Fear
by Zaros Mon Aug 01, 2016 12:54 am
Zaros stared the the projection for long moments, his mind racing as he saw Noque’s capabilities. If only there were some way to complete his being. He might well become that powerful. His mental sigh however could be seen on his face through a slight crease of his lips in a frown as the scene changed to the state of the galaxy, “I suppose that could be the reason, yes. I was selfish upon my throne. I believed that my own personal power was the Empire’s. I was proved wrong, unfortunately. However, it has given us insight into what Noque is capable of. What we might be capable of if there was some way to fill this hole in our being while also retaining the Hunger. However, the key to their downfall might well be the secret to their power. Theirs, and perhaps the Sin’vitae’s as well. After all, we were born out of the same need, us and him.”
He folded his arms over his chest and began to pace, the Guise of Terror hanging from a hooked finger, “I think, perhaps, you are right about why I was singled out. I had become too powerful. Powerful enough to force myself into this reality. Something which has never been done, to my knowledge. I had amassed enough personal power to challenge him. Had I known this, I might have done so. However, he beat me to the realization.” He shook his head slowly, “Diplomacy, in my honest opinion, is a fool’s errand. I have been in the mind of a Dra’sin Primoris. They are convinced, to the core of their being, that they are the rightful masters of the universe and any action required to bring other races into the fold is for that race’s own good. They are totally committed to the idea that they are the Master Race of the universe.” An exaggeration, perhaps, but he wasn’t far off the mark if the insights he had gained from the Primoris were true.
He nodded, “I will gladly assist in the translating of anything you have. I, myself, scrounged for anything ti do with the Sin’vitae, but the vast majority of the knowledge was lost when I managed to break us loose from the pocket universe.” It was not a happy time for the Excerion Leader. He had lost any advantage over the enemies he was bred to fight, however his attitude had shifted upon learning that said enemy was destroyed utterly. It wasn’t until later, when he had seen what the Empire had become that he had started delving into the mysteries of the Sin’vitae. He had wanted to add their power to his in the hope that he might best the tyrannical Emperor. However, that had not gone as planned.
He sighed and shook his head again, “It will be a challenge getting used to your idealism. The philosophy of one for all and all for one. For instance, the propaganda that covered the shock of my arrival. Such would not have been necessary in my Empire. I would simply have told them that an Exercion was being born anew and left it at that.” It was no lie. Having the people on their side would be an alien concept for a while. His entire Empire had been built upon fear. He had nourished that emotion in his subjects to better feed himself. The resistant were sacrificed to far-flung worlds. That was why nearly everyone in his capitol had been driven mad with hallucinations when he had shifted realities. They were weak-willed, all the better to feed his store of power. However he was a practiced hand at fine-tuning his feeding. It was how he had conquered most every world in his Empire. Feed slowly off the populace to weaken them, and then suck them all dry once they were weak. To be admired and looked up to by the general public might be a shock to his senses.
Now they came to the gristle of the matter and he could only stare at Arcerion as if he had gone mad. But then he realized they had traveled different paths. He shook off his incredulity, speaking thus, “Forgive me. My Exercion brothers and sisters never wore the mantle of liberators. I was thrown for the moment. But yes, as far as perception goes it is a useful mantle. Though it should be stated that because he did not choose diplomacy in my reality, it does not then follow that he will not in this one. Still, the best defense is a good offense.” And when Arcerion began to question him, he looked confused, “I have never heard of this Thargor, nor any such creature as a Bale. it seems you have lead a more interesting life than I did. The Starbodies, I can confirm, are a dead race where I come from. I attempted to bring them into the fold as tools for expansion, however they branded me an honorless coward and tried to lead a revolt. I crushed them and mourned their loss only as a blacksmith mourns the loss of a hammer. Our technology, however, was at its peak. We were space-faring with a large armada capable of destroying worlds.” His lips twisted his expression with a rueful smile. As he laid out the facts of his Empire’s demise a realization dawned upon him, “It seems I was my own worst enemy. My style of rule was the reason I was cast down so easily. The men and women of my Empire were downtrodden. I had fed from them for so long and so often that they saw no reason to fight tooth and nail for their homeland. They fought because they feared what would happen to them if they did not.”
He tucked the Guise of Terror under one of his arms and began a soft, slow clap, “I applaud you on your wisdom, Arcerion. I realize now that, should the enemy come knocking here, the situation might be salvageable. So long as we are prepared to face him. Staving off an invasion is pointless. And so now we have a common goal.”
He folded his arms over his chest and began to pace, the Guise of Terror hanging from a hooked finger, “I think, perhaps, you are right about why I was singled out. I had become too powerful. Powerful enough to force myself into this reality. Something which has never been done, to my knowledge. I had amassed enough personal power to challenge him. Had I known this, I might have done so. However, he beat me to the realization.” He shook his head slowly, “Diplomacy, in my honest opinion, is a fool’s errand. I have been in the mind of a Dra’sin Primoris. They are convinced, to the core of their being, that they are the rightful masters of the universe and any action required to bring other races into the fold is for that race’s own good. They are totally committed to the idea that they are the Master Race of the universe.” An exaggeration, perhaps, but he wasn’t far off the mark if the insights he had gained from the Primoris were true.
He nodded, “I will gladly assist in the translating of anything you have. I, myself, scrounged for anything ti do with the Sin’vitae, but the vast majority of the knowledge was lost when I managed to break us loose from the pocket universe.” It was not a happy time for the Excerion Leader. He had lost any advantage over the enemies he was bred to fight, however his attitude had shifted upon learning that said enemy was destroyed utterly. It wasn’t until later, when he had seen what the Empire had become that he had started delving into the mysteries of the Sin’vitae. He had wanted to add their power to his in the hope that he might best the tyrannical Emperor. However, that had not gone as planned.
He sighed and shook his head again, “It will be a challenge getting used to your idealism. The philosophy of one for all and all for one. For instance, the propaganda that covered the shock of my arrival. Such would not have been necessary in my Empire. I would simply have told them that an Exercion was being born anew and left it at that.” It was no lie. Having the people on their side would be an alien concept for a while. His entire Empire had been built upon fear. He had nourished that emotion in his subjects to better feed himself. The resistant were sacrificed to far-flung worlds. That was why nearly everyone in his capitol had been driven mad with hallucinations when he had shifted realities. They were weak-willed, all the better to feed his store of power. However he was a practiced hand at fine-tuning his feeding. It was how he had conquered most every world in his Empire. Feed slowly off the populace to weaken them, and then suck them all dry once they were weak. To be admired and looked up to by the general public might be a shock to his senses.
Now they came to the gristle of the matter and he could only stare at Arcerion as if he had gone mad. But then he realized they had traveled different paths. He shook off his incredulity, speaking thus, “Forgive me. My Exercion brothers and sisters never wore the mantle of liberators. I was thrown for the moment. But yes, as far as perception goes it is a useful mantle. Though it should be stated that because he did not choose diplomacy in my reality, it does not then follow that he will not in this one. Still, the best defense is a good offense.” And when Arcerion began to question him, he looked confused, “I have never heard of this Thargor, nor any such creature as a Bale. it seems you have lead a more interesting life than I did. The Starbodies, I can confirm, are a dead race where I come from. I attempted to bring them into the fold as tools for expansion, however they branded me an honorless coward and tried to lead a revolt. I crushed them and mourned their loss only as a blacksmith mourns the loss of a hammer. Our technology, however, was at its peak. We were space-faring with a large armada capable of destroying worlds.” His lips twisted his expression with a rueful smile. As he laid out the facts of his Empire’s demise a realization dawned upon him, “It seems I was my own worst enemy. My style of rule was the reason I was cast down so easily. The men and women of my Empire were downtrodden. I had fed from them for so long and so often that they saw no reason to fight tooth and nail for their homeland. They fought because they feared what would happen to them if they did not.”
He tucked the Guise of Terror under one of his arms and began a soft, slow clap, “I applaud you on your wisdom, Arcerion. I realize now that, should the enemy come knocking here, the situation might be salvageable. So long as we are prepared to face him. Staving off an invasion is pointless. And so now we have a common goal.”
Zaros- nooblin
- Posts : 5
Join date : 2016-07-24
Re: The Coming of Fear
by Arcerion Tue Aug 02, 2016 10:01 pm
Arcerion nodded as he listened more to Zaro's tale. It was a premonition in his mind that this being should come before him, brought low yet not defeated. It was a testament to the survival instinct of his kind. As he spoke now of the Sin'viate and just what they might accomplish with their knowledge from Noque, Arcerion simply nodded, power attracts power and if they continued in their research more Exercion's may be drawn to the beacon they would light. "One day we will find our creators core denied us at our birth. That is my promise to every Exercion." He chuckled at the mention of invading a Primoris' mind. Now that was something he had never once accomplished, but he found that Zaro's own knowledge taken from them supported the leaps in logic he had made. "We're not so different us and them. We simply travel different roads to bring the masses under our control. The only reason I know they are not actually Exercion is because I have found it proven time and again that we prefer as a race to manipulate and guide from the shadows, while Celesin prefers blind zealotry and strength to guide them."
Speaking calmly he would take Zaro's comment as to his propaganda being too complicated in strides. "Those that see the truth of things will know, however when the ability to lay blame at your enemies feet is there, why not take it? Bring the fear of traitors amongst them to the forefront, though a lie it may be, it may yet serve some good in the future of routing any possible seditious factions." He waited a moment as he continued to watch as planets and star systems of that reality fell to Noque. The Celesin of that plane of existence unable to quickly adapt to the new threat of an Exercion with power to match their own Magi. Though he knew the feed would be cut short soon enough, when their emperor took the field. Such a simple rote spell would hide them from the gaze of their brother, as he was simple and did not guard himself well. Whenever the Celesin emperor of that realm took the field though, he would no doubt be able to sever the link and know he was being watched. To see him fight at such peak capability would be a boon to both him and Zaro's and yet, he knew such would not happen. Maybe even that alternate time lines emperor could give information in some way to this realms own version.
"Adaptability is the key to survival. I trust in time you'll take your place as my brother once had as Fear. As for my idealism, don't mistake me as a lover of all things alive and beautiful. It is simple logic that my extended family has placed within me. I cannot be in many places at once and operate at full potential. Thus I need loyal servants who can potentially match my power to carry out my wishes. The rumor of the Emperor and Empresses brutality to traitors already circulating, and the religious beliefs of Highlords and the path of blood and honor as ways to succeed in life, the masses are both placated, and at the same time aspire for greatness. It is an interesting balancing act I could not of accomplished without years of help from my family. A campaign of terror was waged to have the masses fear us, and when we took the mantle of power we gave them a way to stay safe and aspire to do better."
As Zaro's mentioned not having been a liberator Arcerion would frown ever so slightly. It would be a new mantle Zaro's would hopefully aspire to. "When we escaped the old realm, we did so after winning a bloody civil war against Noque. We were the good guys, who protected the few herds of Dra'sin that had been brought with us. Unfortunately our escape sent all of them into a torpor from which we have not been able to awaken them. It is through the fleshcrafting skills of Thargor and the rest of the Shuinsai clan that I have locked them into a stasis from which they may eventually awaken. If some of those who had been there at the beginning should awaken, we may have not only all the knowledge we desire, but also loyal soldiers which can match the Celesin royal family in combat."
The fact that Bales and Thargor himself were unknown to him was displeasing, however the Starbodies brought low gained a chuckle of appreciation. "Considering your feeding methods I am not surprised. Even if they had lived a scared starbody is hardly worth the air they breath. As for Bales, I think you'll find they quite match your disposition. They know not of love or the finer emotions, they are beautiful beings born of power and primal lust to gather more and more. Though I think you may find their ways interesting. Matriarchal, the men are little more then trophies for their wives who wage bloody wars and games of intrigue. My own Empress is the queen of all Bale's." He took a moment to let that sink in, that Arcerion had taken a mate somehow, despite being the Exercion of Hate. Just what kind of thing a Bale could be that they would copulate might fascinate Zaro's. "Thargor, my younger brother though not by blood is of a race known as the Endless. He tempered me, when I was still rough iron, and made me steel. His knowledge is befitting his now deific status. Much as you have done, he left this reality for realms unknown, blessing us only with a daughter who I am now in the process of tempering much the same way her father did for me."
As Zaro's went on to explain his technology and then applauded him, Arcerion would take a bow to his brother in appreciation. When rising he grinned just slightly. "High praise from you Zaro's. I feel like this alliance shall become fruitful in time. Though I feel I should go more into depth about the current state of things." More projections rose around them, one showed the beings he'd mentioned previously in stasis, and another larger one showed locations with massive buildings associated with them spread throughout the galaxy. "We believe a sufficient amount of power can awaken our creators. To that end I have begun the process of tearing holes in reality, and attuning them to elemental planes. Next we encase this tears in a building which people attuned to them can siphon off the excess of power to keep the building stable, though most of the power is truthfully transferred towards the stasis chamber."
"Speaking of technology, I would advise you familiarize yourself with the spore tech we use. Dormant spores are okay for use, though I would recommend against ingesting them, unless you want to be the first Exercion to see just what this bio-weapon can accomplish. Active spores I would prefer to instruct you in their uses. They're restricted use for a reason after all, and while I don't doubt your genius, I am not yet sure about where your curiosity lies." He chuckled a bit at this thought. Now what else should he ask Zaro's concerning the different worlds and how things were playing out now.
"Eventually we'll have to introduce you to mother. I mean that none literally of course. I'm sure you've seen test tubes and artificial wombs in your time. Kitsuko is a being I would dare say is on par with us as far as age is concerned. She's odd, and her demeanor is disarming. She provides support in our labs. Though she hasn't taken to the field of battle in a while." He pondered who else would need to be introduced to Zaro's. His mate at some point, and his children. He crossed his arms though as he was dominating the conversation. "Surely you have more questions, or do you seek something else now, I fear I've been a rude host to you my brother."
Speaking calmly he would take Zaro's comment as to his propaganda being too complicated in strides. "Those that see the truth of things will know, however when the ability to lay blame at your enemies feet is there, why not take it? Bring the fear of traitors amongst them to the forefront, though a lie it may be, it may yet serve some good in the future of routing any possible seditious factions." He waited a moment as he continued to watch as planets and star systems of that reality fell to Noque. The Celesin of that plane of existence unable to quickly adapt to the new threat of an Exercion with power to match their own Magi. Though he knew the feed would be cut short soon enough, when their emperor took the field. Such a simple rote spell would hide them from the gaze of their brother, as he was simple and did not guard himself well. Whenever the Celesin emperor of that realm took the field though, he would no doubt be able to sever the link and know he was being watched. To see him fight at such peak capability would be a boon to both him and Zaro's and yet, he knew such would not happen. Maybe even that alternate time lines emperor could give information in some way to this realms own version.
"Adaptability is the key to survival. I trust in time you'll take your place as my brother once had as Fear. As for my idealism, don't mistake me as a lover of all things alive and beautiful. It is simple logic that my extended family has placed within me. I cannot be in many places at once and operate at full potential. Thus I need loyal servants who can potentially match my power to carry out my wishes. The rumor of the Emperor and Empresses brutality to traitors already circulating, and the religious beliefs of Highlords and the path of blood and honor as ways to succeed in life, the masses are both placated, and at the same time aspire for greatness. It is an interesting balancing act I could not of accomplished without years of help from my family. A campaign of terror was waged to have the masses fear us, and when we took the mantle of power we gave them a way to stay safe and aspire to do better."
As Zaro's mentioned not having been a liberator Arcerion would frown ever so slightly. It would be a new mantle Zaro's would hopefully aspire to. "When we escaped the old realm, we did so after winning a bloody civil war against Noque. We were the good guys, who protected the few herds of Dra'sin that had been brought with us. Unfortunately our escape sent all of them into a torpor from which we have not been able to awaken them. It is through the fleshcrafting skills of Thargor and the rest of the Shuinsai clan that I have locked them into a stasis from which they may eventually awaken. If some of those who had been there at the beginning should awaken, we may have not only all the knowledge we desire, but also loyal soldiers which can match the Celesin royal family in combat."
The fact that Bales and Thargor himself were unknown to him was displeasing, however the Starbodies brought low gained a chuckle of appreciation. "Considering your feeding methods I am not surprised. Even if they had lived a scared starbody is hardly worth the air they breath. As for Bales, I think you'll find they quite match your disposition. They know not of love or the finer emotions, they are beautiful beings born of power and primal lust to gather more and more. Though I think you may find their ways interesting. Matriarchal, the men are little more then trophies for their wives who wage bloody wars and games of intrigue. My own Empress is the queen of all Bale's." He took a moment to let that sink in, that Arcerion had taken a mate somehow, despite being the Exercion of Hate. Just what kind of thing a Bale could be that they would copulate might fascinate Zaro's. "Thargor, my younger brother though not by blood is of a race known as the Endless. He tempered me, when I was still rough iron, and made me steel. His knowledge is befitting his now deific status. Much as you have done, he left this reality for realms unknown, blessing us only with a daughter who I am now in the process of tempering much the same way her father did for me."
As Zaro's went on to explain his technology and then applauded him, Arcerion would take a bow to his brother in appreciation. When rising he grinned just slightly. "High praise from you Zaro's. I feel like this alliance shall become fruitful in time. Though I feel I should go more into depth about the current state of things." More projections rose around them, one showed the beings he'd mentioned previously in stasis, and another larger one showed locations with massive buildings associated with them spread throughout the galaxy. "We believe a sufficient amount of power can awaken our creators. To that end I have begun the process of tearing holes in reality, and attuning them to elemental planes. Next we encase this tears in a building which people attuned to them can siphon off the excess of power to keep the building stable, though most of the power is truthfully transferred towards the stasis chamber."
"Speaking of technology, I would advise you familiarize yourself with the spore tech we use. Dormant spores are okay for use, though I would recommend against ingesting them, unless you want to be the first Exercion to see just what this bio-weapon can accomplish. Active spores I would prefer to instruct you in their uses. They're restricted use for a reason after all, and while I don't doubt your genius, I am not yet sure about where your curiosity lies." He chuckled a bit at this thought. Now what else should he ask Zaro's concerning the different worlds and how things were playing out now.
"Eventually we'll have to introduce you to mother. I mean that none literally of course. I'm sure you've seen test tubes and artificial wombs in your time. Kitsuko is a being I would dare say is on par with us as far as age is concerned. She's odd, and her demeanor is disarming. She provides support in our labs. Though she hasn't taken to the field of battle in a while." He pondered who else would need to be introduced to Zaro's. His mate at some point, and his children. He crossed his arms though as he was dominating the conversation. "Surely you have more questions, or do you seek something else now, I fear I've been a rude host to you my brother."
Arcerion- Salty Dog
- Posts : 54
Join date : 2015-03-02
Re: The Coming of Fear
by Zaros Tue Sep 06, 2016 9:02 pm
Zaros was a fairly patient creature when it came to learning things. Whether it be the sciences or the use of his own powers when he had just been created. Fear will always find a way, given enough time. Only now he was learning about Arcerion. His opposite, in this alternate reality, in a sense. They had both conquered, yes, dominated a section of their own galaxies. But through different methods. It was this that most intrigued him. He let the many explanations and words was over him, absorbing both their meaning and intent as he walked the room. He Also let the underlying messages sink in as well as he moved around behind the throne that had once belonged to Thargor. He ran his hand along the top of the throne’s back before coming out around it, letting Arcerion dominate the conversation. It all fed him some kind of information, though he doubted the idea that Arcerion liked the sound of his own voice. He nodded here and there in the other Exercion’s speech, and when the other man finished he laced his fingers behind his back, beneath the cape he wore, “Fear not, my brother, I am no fool. Adaptability will not be an issue between us, of that you can be sure. For the law is simple to me. Adapt or die. I, for one, have no desire to die.”
“As for the spore technology, I will endeavor to find out as much as I may about it. If it is what you’ve advertised to me, I am sure I will find it. . . handy.” He smirked slightly and then looked to the thrones, “There is one thing I am curious about, however. The thrones here, you rule by committee? Or are these merely courtesies for those who hold influence within the Empire? Thargor? Your. . . mother?” Oh yes, Arcerion had used those names with respect, and the tale of Thargor honing Arcerion. . . Well, all useful information. Though he did not hide the fact that he felt himself a bit superior in his accomplishments. Yes, Arcerion had conquered. But he had not done it alone as Zaros had. He had had to be. . . tempered. He did not emerge from the pocket universe as a complete being ready to establish an empire. Zaros had. He had not needed the influence of others to build the bloated monstrosity that was his empire. But in the end he supposed he could have used a little advice about his way of doing things. After all, he was the one who had had to outrun the destruction of his own world.
He waved his hand, “As for any rudeness you feel you have shown me, think nothing of it. I believe that you an I understand one another, Arcerion. We can be of great help to one another.” He moved back to stand before Arcerion, “I am somewhat transparent in my goals, dear brother. I am a creature of habit, you might say. I desire power. Whether it be personal or political makes no difference to me. However, if I can have both, I may very well try. My reserves of power have been depleted. Once upon a time, I could have stood in the same room with a nuclear warhead as it went off and not felt a thing. Now, I am as malleable as the day I was born.” He chuckled, “It galls me to say it, Arcerion, for I have been an Emperor longer than even you, perhaps, but I need your help if I am going to rebuild my strength. I have no desire to go home, of course. Those people are all dead and I cared for none of them. I would make this galaxy, and this empire, my home, if you will have me.” He smirked, “I believe that I can be of great use to you, whether it be tactically or via my own experiences. If you will have me.”
Zaros then offered Arcerion his hand, leaving the decision to the rightful Emperor of this dimension. The idea, in the end, was not to appear to eager. After all, if he began asking for a Lord’s Hold or throne on their first meeting, Arcerion might get suspicious about his motives. No. He felt that he would enjoy himself rather more without the burdens of absolute leadership. He could be one of three, yes, but the one who made the final decision? No. The failure he had experienced in his own dimension was slight weight, but a weight none the less.
“As for the spore technology, I will endeavor to find out as much as I may about it. If it is what you’ve advertised to me, I am sure I will find it. . . handy.” He smirked slightly and then looked to the thrones, “There is one thing I am curious about, however. The thrones here, you rule by committee? Or are these merely courtesies for those who hold influence within the Empire? Thargor? Your. . . mother?” Oh yes, Arcerion had used those names with respect, and the tale of Thargor honing Arcerion. . . Well, all useful information. Though he did not hide the fact that he felt himself a bit superior in his accomplishments. Yes, Arcerion had conquered. But he had not done it alone as Zaros had. He had had to be. . . tempered. He did not emerge from the pocket universe as a complete being ready to establish an empire. Zaros had. He had not needed the influence of others to build the bloated monstrosity that was his empire. But in the end he supposed he could have used a little advice about his way of doing things. After all, he was the one who had had to outrun the destruction of his own world.
He waved his hand, “As for any rudeness you feel you have shown me, think nothing of it. I believe that you an I understand one another, Arcerion. We can be of great help to one another.” He moved back to stand before Arcerion, “I am somewhat transparent in my goals, dear brother. I am a creature of habit, you might say. I desire power. Whether it be personal or political makes no difference to me. However, if I can have both, I may very well try. My reserves of power have been depleted. Once upon a time, I could have stood in the same room with a nuclear warhead as it went off and not felt a thing. Now, I am as malleable as the day I was born.” He chuckled, “It galls me to say it, Arcerion, for I have been an Emperor longer than even you, perhaps, but I need your help if I am going to rebuild my strength. I have no desire to go home, of course. Those people are all dead and I cared for none of them. I would make this galaxy, and this empire, my home, if you will have me.” He smirked, “I believe that I can be of great use to you, whether it be tactically or via my own experiences. If you will have me.”
Zaros then offered Arcerion his hand, leaving the decision to the rightful Emperor of this dimension. The idea, in the end, was not to appear to eager. After all, if he began asking for a Lord’s Hold or throne on their first meeting, Arcerion might get suspicious about his motives. No. He felt that he would enjoy himself rather more without the burdens of absolute leadership. He could be one of three, yes, but the one who made the final decision? No. The failure he had experienced in his own dimension was slight weight, but a weight none the less.
Zaros- nooblin
- Posts : 5
Join date : 2016-07-24
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