Darkness Falls: Void Rising (Prologue, closed)

[Rune]

The Terran philospher Nietche said, that when you stare into the abyss, it stares back. Wise words for a mortal, even to a Dark God such as myself...but then I am the Prince of Void, and the abyss is my home.

I have sat here, facing the abyss for what might have been hours or days. I am not certain. Time does not pass in the same order as it does on Earth. It holds little meaning in a world of my creation, even less so when I meditate upon the darkness beyond.

This world, no more than a shard really, was forged of souls, made to replace my lost universe, derived of my will, my magick. Just a small plot of land, floating in oblivion, surrounded by the void about it, a maelstrom of interdimenal energies. An abyss of countless worlds. A fitting place to call my home.

I stare into the abyss, considering carefully my next step. This world is by no means complete, held together only by a few innocent souls. If I am to remake my world, I shall need a good deal more, but the vessel I would take from for this energies, the world that destroyed my own, is filled with its own new gods. Heroes, their world calls them. Ones who would take glory from myself, even deprive me of my freedom, perhaps even my immortality. I must be careful in my dealings with them...I need an edge.

If you stare into the abyss, it stares back...

I gaze into the darkness, and from within it comes a figure. Black as obsidion, marked only by a silver sign on his chest, an inverted triangle with lines streaming above it. I do not know the symbol, not from all my studies, but something about it stirs hairs at the back of my neck. Trills a slight, vague warning to my concious mind. This symbol is a rune of great power and danger...and perhaps oppertunity.

From my place at the shore I watch as he crosses the swirling vortex, black energies propelling him across a chaotic void that might easily kil a lesser being, a void I myself would be hesitant to cross unguarded. When he reaches the shore he is engulfed with flame, the dark energies that protect him lit from all over with a dozen cosmist energies, setting him aflame in a riot of color. Any mere mortal would scream in agony at the onslaught, curl upon the soil and die...and yet he still moves, rising silently from the ground, stumbling slowly towards my own perch, hateful eyes visible from within the torrent of eneries.

For a moment I watch his slow appoach, observing as the black energy overtakes the dimensional energies, overpowering their light with darkness, healing his flesh. When I stare into his eyes it is not unlike the cosmic storm beyond my shore, a black flack flashing abyss that threatens to pull me within, to draw fear from even my hardened soul.

Interesting.

As he comes to my position he raises his arm to strike, and I smile, raising a hand against him as I utter a single solitary word, that no mortal's ear has heard in this century. Instantly he is compelled backwards, blasted by a fireball of my own making, knocked back onto the shore. Pushed to the very edge of the abyss.

His body burns anew with my magicks...and yet he starts to rise again.

Now I am no longer bemused. His impudence in thinking to strike me, and the power he weilds anger me. He is a fool to try and harm the prince of Void...and he shall learn that lesson well.

Again and again I strike against him, leveling blasts siphoned from the very energies of the universe, directed to him with impossible power...and yet he rises after each attack. He will not yield. He will not stop.

I almost spreads fear to my heart to see him act thusly, but fear has no place in my dead heart. I will not fall to this creature.

Now I attack him directly, with ripping claws and gnashing fangs. Tasting the bitter ichor of death on his flesh, watching as the wounds heal themselves. I also notive something else. His left hand bears a ring. A black obsidion thing, marked with the same symbol of his chest, and glowing with darkness.

[glow=black,2,300]"Ahh...so your power is not your own...Then it is MINE!"[/glow]

With one swift movement, I rip the ring from his mand, watching as string of blackness pull with it, torn from the very flesh of his body. His body caves to ash before me, even as the ring fights against my grip, seeking to return to its vessel, to reanimate the corpse once more.

Even my grip cannot long hold the ring back, so I take the only option open to me, and slip it upon my taloned hand, watching as it flashes in my grip, feeling a surge of pain as its tendrils penetrate my flesh. Seeking to control me as it did its former host.

For a moment pain surges in me, death consuming my flesh as I am transformed by the power of the ring, remade to its will. Words speak from the ring, and I hear them. Beckoning me to Rise...I fight the control of the ring, pushing my own magicks against its, fueling my power with all that this pocket dimension holds...bending the ring to my will.

I stagger to my feet, not even concious of having fallen, and speak aloud to myself, even as I feel the symbol of the ring emblazoned upon my chest, burning into my flesh.

[glow=gray,2,300]Rune, Prince of Void...Rise[/glow]

I snarl at the command, fighting it back with my magick, feeling it pulse back against me, and finally , barely feeling it give before my will.

[glow=black,2,300]"You will not command me trinket, I am the Dark God. All is void before me."[/glow]

I speak the words curtly, even as my attentions turn to other matters. Feeling the darkness flow through me. The ring may not command me, but its power is still at my fingertips, a power that I will bend to my will, and use to retake what is rightfully mine.

At a thought I rise into the air, unaided by my wings as I am propelled skyward by black energies, back to my temple, a lone sanctuary amongst the chaos of this shard. A place to consider my newfound power.

Once I arrive at the temple, I set to work immediately, cutting a deep slash into my hand with one talon, and then carefully tracing intricate designs onto the stone basin of my altar. I work tirelessly upon the design, creating from memory the runemancy circle I will need to use this new tool...to remake it to my will.

When the circle is done I set it alight with a torch, watching as the flame consumes my blood, burning now of my own energies. Into this I remove the ring, no longer strugglign against my will, and set it aflame with magickal energies. Watching the patterns of smoke as it burns. I might stand against the powers cosmic, but my soul energy destroys it easily...and remakes it. From out of the flame comes a twin to thing ring of before, crafted of my magicks, my will. At the same time the altar itselfs reshapes to my will, the granite of its construction transformed into obsidion, the shape remade as a glistening lantern, glowing from within from my own power.

I slowly put the new ring onto my hand, feeling myself pulse once more with power, and now the knowledge of how to use it, of what it is. This ring was the creation of one Dark God...but now it serves another.

I close my fist, holding the ring before the black light of the lantern, and speak softly, uttering a chant of mystical value that is made real by the ring, rune forming about me, and then flowing into the lanter, which glows all the more with its dark light, even as more rings flow forth from within, slowly filling the chamber.

From this black lantern, I shall make an army. An army of death and darkness. The Void shall consume all.

The abyss is coming....

[N.P.C.]

((NPC is Mad Jim Jaspers))

It really bites, when reality is wiped out all over you.
No one knew it was coming, everything was just there one moment, and then nothing.
Bringing myself back from this one, hasn't been easy.
But eventually, I finally pull my 'me' into being again, complete with hat.
But, where am I?
This isn't my reality. No.
My reality is no more.
I decide I might as well explore the new world I've brought myself to.
It's allot like my world. But yet, it's not.
How queer.
The City seems like any other, really.
Fast pace, lots of people...
And doesn't it seem rather tacky, that EVERY big city has some huge park/garden in the center?
Kneeling down next to a small pond, I set my fingertips in the water, enjoying the feel of being real once again.
But the calm, never lasts around me.
Oh no, I am a magnet for... the oddest things being attracted to my person.
Out of nowhere comes this black bauble, floating toward me.
I look at it, a lopsided grin as I attempt to contemplate just how odd this might be, when it jumps onto my finger, black tendrils coming at me, the pain making my smile fade, as anger flairs up.
I let out an angry howl at the pain, shaking my hand to be free of it, but it feels like it's trying to invade my body, through my skin...
Pushed to react defensively, I try to manipulate the being itself, to pull it back out of my body by it's very essence, but I don't react fast enough, the instant pain taking my to me knees as the tendrils sink onto me, flowing up my arm and to my brain.
The pain is so unbearable, I start to worry if this is more of Mandragon's doing, when suddenly, the pain is over.
Standing up, I notice my Plaid Polyester has been completely redone, in black, the plaid pattern now done neatly in silver, all the way to my hat!
And instead of my fancy triple breasted decor, I have a symbol, a silver outline of an arrow, kind of...
Patting myself down, wondering what the HELL just happened, a black portal springs out of nowhere, just as fast, sucking me in.
Being what I am, I'm not stranger to time/space warp, and as the portal spits me out, I use my powers to keep from hitting the floor, stopping just one foot before that mark, gracefully stepping down.
I look around me, sure now that this HAS to be the work of the Avant Gaurde, trying to keep me from contaminating their precious 616...
I size up the pale guy in front of me.

"You're not Mandragon."

[Dr. Nostra]

* The doldrums of this days activities have been nothing more than tedious. The latest batch of SRT still retains the same toxicity... a flaw that would doubtlessly serve as a white flag for investigators. Yet another weeks of hard work wasted, taking 3 test subjects with it.*

* The subjects collective passing is of little consequence, if anything it saves time and effort... time however is NOT a commodity we can afford to squander.*

* The only thing which seems to go right is the maintenance for the epsilon unit. Fixing some minor glitches with the repulsor units, allowing for increased and sustained output. Even restricted to the use of one hand, this diagnostic hardly warrants additional attention. It's hardly anything to bother Nicole with. Not when she has other matters to attend to.*

* then... IT comes*

* A trinket, an ebony ring, merely 'appears' in my sanctuary... propelled by some unseen force, knocking the tool from my hand before it forces itself down upon my finger. Almost immediately I find my arm engulfed with darkness, one which soon takes shape... grafting itself to tentacles that engulf me... penetrating the Epsilon... penetrating my skin... and begins to force it's way through my nervous system. My synapses ignite like kindling, ravaging my frail body with a pain unimaginable... and many would think unattainable to a broken invalid such as myself.*

* Ironic... so many years feeling nothing, for this to be the first true sensation I feel*

* This pain... so immense... so terrible. My teeth grate together... on the verge of dental trauma, as I violently choke back the urge to scream. Whatever this bauble is... I shall NOT let this... THING gain such satisfaction from me.*

* Then, as quickly as it came... it ends.*

* It takes a few moments... Only as I begin pushing myself up... under my own power... for the ramifications to come clear. The Epsilon... it's armor changed from red to a Black and Silver tone... has enveloped my body, a black cowl in place of the faceplate. My... it's chest branded with the same hand-like symbol found on the ring that overtook my right hand.*

* A mark?*

* I barely have time to fully contemplate this chain of events before a dark portal tears open in front of me... the sudden void before me creating a vacuum which quickly pulls my new form inside, and shoves me out into unfamiliar territory. I've clearly been pulled into a temple of sorts, it's architecture indicative of the Aztec. However, this Altar room... or perhaps a Sacrificial chamber, is adorned with symbols and praises toward a deity neither of which I am familiar with.*

* It does not take long to discern I am not alone.*

*Thus far... I observe 2 others in my presence... an Englishman, clad in a black and silver suit, himself bearing the same brand and ring which where forced upon my person. Preliminary bio-scan indicate himself an Omega-level Mutant... however his reactions indicating he is not responsible for this. But rather he who is seated before us.*

* My eyes narrow slightly as the bio-scan fails... registering a tremendous amount of power, but failing to register its bearer. The figures emaciated form is pale... deathly, his his withered black mane pulled back behind a balding head, resting alongside a pair of demonic wings. Clearly, this is the being depicted in the hieroglyphs... but featuring one minor difference. Behind his bejeweled necklace, I see the mark once more... this time however, it appears to have been burned into his chest.*

*quite fascinating*

* With these preliminary evaluations complete... I deduce that a more... diplomatic course of action is required. The Omega class freak is enough of a problem on his own... however I have no idea what this 'dark god' may or may not be capable of. I speak... but in a docile, inquisitive tone.*

" What is the meaning of this? Where are we?"

[Mistress Twilight]

Though I distaste in having to resort to such measures, I find that at times, there are problems for which conventional solutions are neither practical nor satisfactory. In such circumstances, I am forced to resort to an entirely different path, one which may yield more fruitful results. Magic is a dangerous ally. While capable of rending cleanly through the typical barriers and providing incalculable resources and opportunities, it is none the less a force which I hesitate to use. Hubris is not a weakness that I tend to engage in. I am under no illusion that in the arcane arts, there are far more powerful practitioners than myself. I do not seek to earn their attention, and that ensures my continued survival. To that end, like any other resource at my disposal, magic is budgeted. Each act of enchantment is to be carefully used to achieve maximum profit for minimum investment.

Today, I seek to conjure a specific brand of demon, known in the elder tomes as a Ho-jar, having first been conjured in Arabian times. While possessing limited magical abilities in and of themselves, they do have one very interesting use. Blood taken from them can be infused into a vial of ink, imbuing it with two properties. The first being that it will never again run empty, remaining perpetually full. The second, far more potent ability, is that it causes the ink to enable a curse upon any who use it. Any contract written with this ink will forcibly bind the participants to uphold their agreement, with instant death being the penalty for failure to do so. Most acceptable.

As I begin scribing the circles, having made the instructions clear that I was not to be disturbed by anything until I called for my servants, lest they interrupt at a crucial moment in the summons, I was interrupted by a most unforeseen turn of events. The summoning chamber is made with 4 inch steel walls, and covered with enough glyphs and dampening runes to ensure that no stray eldritch energies escape to where they might be detected, but also protect me from external magics and their potential influence. Yet, despite these wards, into my sanctum comes this small black band, appearing to be a ring, forged completely of a solid dark material, glowing with a dark force that seemed to drain away all light from its vicinity.

Perplexing.

The ring heads straight for my left hand, and tough I moved to intercept it, suspecting some kind of foul play at work, it evades my grasp, reaching my hand and affixing itself to my finger. What follows cannot be put into words. The ring extends a great mass of black tendrils, penetrating into my body and causing a pain beyond anything I can ever hope to describe. But worse still, a thousand times more distressing, is the strain I feel within me. My own power, stolen from the heart of a slain god, clashes with the energies that this ring unleashes. The dissonance churns inside of me, shaking my bones and tearing through each cell of my being. For an instant, I feel my life force flicker and die out, the embrace of oblivion brushing against me. But then, whatever force is held inside the ring shifted, coming into alignment with me and all is once again still.

I find my wardrobe has changed. When preparing a circle, I usually wear simple workers clothing, rolled up sleeves and a carpenters apron with a pair of comfortable pants. But that is gone. A midnight black ball gown covered me, with a silver trim extending along the frilled edges, circling round till it converges at my breast, above my heart, where a symbol is formed.

But the ring has yet to finish whatever it is seeking. A great rift appears, cleaving the very air apart and drawing everything nearby towards the great gaping maw. I am powerless to resist, and I find myself pulled outside all time and space, beyond the edge of my universe and into the darkest pit I could ever fathom to exists.

I appear inside an alter of some manner. Beside me are two other gentleman, both clad in similar gar, though each styled differently, one appearing on an odd looking fellow who's mannerisms already annoy me for reasons I cannot fully understand, but seeming to be erratic and whimsical. Undignified. The second is an aged man, appearing to be in some manner of armor, his mannerisms reserved and thoughtful.

But before us is an imposing figure, appearing like some great hell fiend out of the darkness. Upon his neck rest a series of gemstones, shining brightly compared to the bleak void around us. Upon his chest, carved into his skin, is the same symbol which marks myself and the two men. Whatever is affront, my instincts tell me this inhuman being is responsible.

I do not speak yet, holding myself in reserve, maintaining a dignified persona. Answers will likely be forthcoming to the reason behind our summons. Patience is a virtue after all. But whatever is happening, I am certain of one thing and one thing only. There is a great power at work here. One that completely outshines the demon I had been seeking to conjure.

So I shall wait and watch, and when the moment presents itself, I'll make my move.

[Kanika Ket]

Black. Silence. Nothing.
I've been in this state for so long, I have no way to judge the passage of time.
I was locked in this tomb, by a mere sorcerer!
I! The hand of Anubis!
Undying, and stuck in such darkness, as I sense the world around me moving further and further into blasphemy.
Over time this accursed tomb has robbed me of my energy, and even the power of my mind has come to be entombed, no longer traveling out.
Why doesn't Anubis answer my prayers?
Has my god forsaken me?
I do not believe he would condone the ways the world has developed.
Somehow this Tomb must be keeping my prayers in with me.
And my powers.
And my mind.
Fighting this entrapment with no end has worn me down.
I am weak.
But even I know the power of blood.
Using my teeth I bite my left hand, feeling the wet flow of my blood as I draw it, mumbling some of the most ancient incantations, trying to reach Anubis.
A last ditch attempt at best.
But I have no other way.
I don't know how long I bleed and pray.
I have fallen in and out of my dreamless sleep, still mumbling my prayers, willing my blood to reach my God.
When I hear something, I perk one of my jackal ears forward, straining to hear more.
It's been silent for so long.
It would be a pleasure to hear anything, that is not my own breathing, my own screams, echoed back to me.
Something manages to break through the hard materials of the tomb, the glow making me shield my eyes, the first light I've seen in centuries.
It's a ring. And it has power.
I move to touch it, noticing that it jumps onto my finger instantly.
The ring hurts me, as it's own power invades my body, my mind.
I am no stranger to pain, or power.
I give in to the pain, hoping my God is sending me the power to free myself, through this bauble.
And, I blink, as it works.
The pain goes away, as if it never were, and a portal takes me out of my Hell.
I blink, my eyes needing time to adjust to the sudden light, the sensation of everything overwhelming after so long in that prison.
My appearance has changed. Whatever this ring has done, it took my priestess robes and covered them in black, giving me some strange symbol where my ankh should be.
I run my fingers over my face, my ancient makeup now silver against the black of my flesh.
I feel strange.
But I feel something different, for the first time in so long.
Like a dehydrated woman to water, I drink in the new scenery.
There's others here too, but I don't care.
I'm free.
I speak in ancient Egyptian dialect:

My Lord?

Only one in this room gives off the power of Death itself.
I go to the pale man, and go to my knees to bow before him, still speaking in my ancient tongue:

Anubis, you have answered my prayers.

[Rune]

At first the power of the ring was an intoxicating effect to have and to behold, bearing with it the great potential to finally achieve my goals, leave this exile, and bring darkness to the world that had stolen my light...

I am held back in this regard by a simple fact though, those mystical energies that I wield, although potent in my world, at weak within the Earth I would see fit to conquer. Even aided by the ring, the power I possess is dwarfed by that of those so called heroes that dwell on the mortal plain.

But raw power is not all that this ring possesses. Through its energies I can intuit the larger goals of the other Dark God, Nekron whose goal with these rings was to bring balance to the scales of life and death, to return those who cheated the reaper to their proper place in the order of the universe. Like myself though, Nekron recognized the finite limits of his power, and so the token I now weild possesses a great power, the ability to subvert the will of those who wear it, to force them into the service of Nekron.

In terms of magery, one Dark God will suffice as well as another.

So it is that I channel my energies into the Black Lantern that has taken the place of my altar, speaking further incantations as I will it to forge more rings for my service, and watching as four more arise.

Four souls is not by any means the limit of what I can call upon, but they will suffice for the moment. There is no need to summon an army, when you have no generals to lead it.

At a thought I open a dark portal for the four trinkets, and then utter another command, demanding that they seek fourth four who will serve me, and the will of the darkness. Confident in their ability to find what I need.

As each in turn enters the void, I get a glimpse into the general they choose, smiling as I have not in a long time at the choices. These pawns are each forminable in their own right, and they shall serve me well...provided they are given the proper incentive.

The first to arrive is the so called Mad Jim Jaspers, who reponds to my presence with a simple declaration of who I am not. That in itself is a statement worthy of ions of pain, but I let it pass for the moment, merely gesturing for him to wait.

The next two are each remarkable in their own rights.

The first is a woman, tainted by nearly so much darkness as my self, and resembling my lost love of long ago. I am actually somewhat surprised that someone with power to rival my own could be controlled by the ring...but then perhaps she chose to let it overtake her, or has her own goals in mind for it. It does not matter, for the moment she will serve me...and if she thinks to betray me, the death I give her will be a thousand times more hellish than her darkest dreams.

If the woman was a match for my power, the man is an equal to my rage. His dark heart beats with the constant fury of the maimed, a fount of rage that I sense is directed at the metahumans of his world. Rage should serve me well as tool for his manipulation. I need only direct him to the correct path, and he will happily damn his own world to see those he loathes extinquished. A fitting bargain.

Both say their peace at the summoning, but I ignore them for the moment, focussing instead on another mage summoned to my presence. Shaped like the Jackel himself, she refers to me as such, speaking in tongues my ears have not heard in centuries, and calling me Anubis as she kneels at my feet...this holds great potential, moreso even than the others. It has been a long time since I had a worthy priestess to serve me...

I smile at her, and utter the welcome of Anubis, touching a taloned hand to her forehead, before I at last address the others, the power of the ring ensuring that all understand me.

[glow=black,2,300]"Welcome to the Darkness, Children of Earth....I am Rune, Prince of Void, Dark God, and weilder of the Black Ring. You were each brought to me, because I have need of you...You possess powers and skills I require, and with your assistance I shall remake my world and yours, fueling a rebirth of the universe through my will, and the souls of those who might oppose me. If you serve me well, I shall reward you in kind, and give you the remains of Earth when I have taken from it what I desire....If you fail me..," [/glow]

At this I touch upon each of their rings with my will, imposing on each in turn a pain so exquisite that it makes even I shudder...

[glow=black,2,300]
"You will die for an eternity at my hands, and each moment of the darkness will be a pain that rivals will be a sweat and new agony."[/glow]

At a thought, a black throne rises up from the floor, seating me easily as I consider them, still writhing in agony before me. I take away their pain, suffosing them instead with my own dark energies, fueling them with my own purpose.

[glow=black,2,300]"You will each return to Earth, empowered by these rings. Use them to summon the dead, and reap the souls of the living for my purposes. The Black lantern shall be filled with there life essence, and from that I will make a New Day for my world, and give you the power to take what you will from yours. Together we shall banish from our sight the light that has oppressed us, and let the Darkness Rise..."[/glow]

[N.P.C.]

((NPC Is Mad Jim Jaspers))

The man waves me on, as if dismissing me completely, as others show up.
I barely pay any of the lot of them any mind.
Once you've seen one power-hungry-less-than-Omnipotent-villain, you've seen them all.
Really, what interests me most is the ring itself, and I let all the words go in one ear, and roll around in my brain at their own pace, as I examine it more.
It seems the pale one has control over it, enough to cause every one of us unimaginable pain.
I let it wash over me, reminding myself this is proof I exist. As it were.
For one who's very presence alters the reality around him, this is all not even registering as minor amusement.
But still something of interest, the way I feel the flow of reality, this rings seems to work against it, in a reality of it's own.
One has to wonder if it's enough to stand against powers such as mine.
Curiouser and Curioser... really. You see?
I would ask the pale one some questions, but the ring itself seems to want to direct our attention elsewhere.
It's pull is strong.
I wave to all the others in the room, a grin slowly forming on my face as I fade from view,

"This shall prove interesting Indeed."

[Dr. Nostra]

* Within moments, as I stand alongside this Omega-level buffoon, others begin to join us... pulled through the same means as I and, as I suspect, this.... genetic trash just where.*

* The first is a young woman, strangely clad in a ball gown, the fabric as black as pitch, with silver trimming, a contrast to her gray hair. Not platinum... a shade of gray lighter than my own. Quite curious. As with our host, I detect some form of power which I am unable to classify. She hold herself with a degree of grace and dignity, her cold eyes betraying her deep contemplation as she waits in silence.*

* This is one to be wary of for certain.*

* However, the most fascinating among the summoned has been saved for last. At first this ebony creature appears in a heap, before lifting herself to her feet, revealing her anthropomorphic symmetry before presenting herself to our host. She is a mirror image of a deity who man has long forsaken... clad in robes and jewels from that era. Curiously, even as she grovels in a tongue which I am unable to translate... she remains featureless. Save for the ghostly white eyes, nothing, almost as if she where communicating telepathically.*

* Suspicions are soon verified as I catch one word I am able to understand... a name rather. Anubis... the Egyptian god of the Dead... the very being whom she bears resemblance.*

* Fascinating... but at the same time, the possibilities are disturbing...*

* As before... scans register Negative... ruling her out as the same breed as this whimsical lummox we are forced to endure. Yet like the others, she possesses great power... and like all of us, wears the same hand-like brand as our summoner.*

* As soon as he returns her praises in time... in the same tongue, he addresses the rest of us.*

* He identifies himself as Rune, Dark god over this purgatory which he adequately calls the void. Apparently he requires need of our services, of our skills and abilities, and has used these baubles to forcibly enlist our aide in reforging reality, both his and ours. He promises great rewards for our services, promises us Dominion over what is left of the earth after we are finished....*

* Then... in a manner lacking all subtlety.... displays to us the price of failure*

* Pain... intense... merciless... unforgiving. More than anything I could have possibly dreamt of in my worst nightmares. My jaw immediately locks as before... as I fight to bite back the urge to scream... every cell... every nerve left in my body erupts in an unending torrent of suffering. Through sheer will.... I attempt to overcome it... as I have overcome all before me.... I shall not be weak... I CAN NOT be weak here.... yet with every passing instant... instants which pass like an eternity... I find I am quickly loosing ground... I can't even hear what this Rune is saying... as I fall to my knees... my teeth grinding... fists clenched to the point of self-injury.... barely hanging on as this merciless tide washes over me...*

* and... weakness prevails*

* Even as the torment fades I still find myself on my knees, breathing heavily as aftershocks tear through my body. As I warily force myself up, I see him, now seated on some sort of thrown... surveying us as we lay here... weakened on the floor. Moments later, I find myself revitalized... a dark energy fueling me... knowledge of it's proper use filling my mind. All of this accompanied with a drive, an urge to go forth and fulfill the orders our mast... err... commander shortly presents us with.*

* A rallying cry to march forth... and extinguish the light that has denied us... to purge the world of the unfit. Yes... I think I can do that.... and I know exactly where I intend to start.*

* I rise to my feet... examining the empowered trinket. The buffoons departure isn't even worth my attention... a dark... cruel smile slowly forming as I watch the ring empower the epsilon, the Darkness integrating itself into the units systems, becoming part of it... of me. Magics as these are something I have no time bothering to learn.... technology is my forte.... far more reliable.*

* With that done, I right myself, standing at attention before giving a proper salute*

[glow=black,3,300]" Your orders shall be carried out commander. I merely need to take few... detours to fill out our ranks."[/glow]

* the sneer broadens as I turn to depart. With newly developed abilities my little round trip shouldn't take long. When I am through with them... they shall be BEGGING for deaths release.*

[Mistress Twilight]

In my dreams, I could have not imagined such a strange set of circumstances to have conspired. I have poured vast sums of finances into a single task, a fixed goal. Taken all at once, I might have been able to purchase a small nation for myself. These funds had been invested towards locating gods, or at least the lingering remains of them. The last spark of divinity I had found transformed my existence, elevating me above the mundane world. More would allow me to ascend to an even higher plane of being. Who would have guessed then, after years of fruitless searching, I’d be called here, to the feet of a deity.

But what is best perhaps is that there is another here. A Woman, with the features of a beast. Her garb, her appearance, her presence, all of it is whispering the traces of power that I feel within myself. Blessed with the power of a god, one from the same Pantheon that I have drawn my own power. Oh what marvelous fortune this is. She speaks, and while I have studied the language of the Pharos, my understanding of it is limited. Much of the dialect has been lost, it is difficult to decipher the exact phrasing she uses. The Deity answers her words, using the same language. Another factor to be considered.

Seizing either of these two and laying claim to their power, that will not be easy. But my mind is turning, turning always turning. Plans and thoughts spring forth and are examined. My stolen heart beats with anticipation. Power, real and true power, is within my grasp. The right words, the right actions all in the proper sequence that is all that lies between me and my goal.

The dark god speaks, greeting us. He speaks to each of the gathered as if we we’re nothing more than motes of dust in the air. All the while, I felt my power reaching out, mingling with the air me. The power here, born from souls forged into something cold and empty, it calls out to me. I hold domain over the forces of life and death and the line which separates them, it is no surprise the dead call to me here. The Dark God makes his terms clear. Serve his will, and the earth shall be given to us, though stripped of whatever he desires for himself. As a business woman, that’s a terrible offer. Like selling us a diamond mine, once all the diamonds are taken. His next words, and the unrelenting agony which rips me asunder again and again, before finally dying of, they make it clear that these terms are a charity, and are not up for negotiations.

So that is how it stands. No bartering chips, little knowledge of the being who has drafted me into service, but gifted with a new power to wield on earth. But there is one thing in my favor. He is harvesting souls. Hundreds, thousands, who knows how many people are about to die. All that power, all the snuffed out life energies, gathered together. My power is life, and my power is death, and my power is the line between them. He wishes to rebuild this world. I intend to this harvest to better use.

“I find your terms acceptable. Lord, I will be happy to gather the souls you need.”

There is a new age coming, one where my power is all, my word the very cords of creation. The twilight will give way now; a darkness will spread from the horizon. But the darkness will end, and a new age will dawn soon thereafter.