Post by Gen Gravy on Sept 5, 2008 13:49:27 GMT -5
First Recount: I am Azz'kal
“All systems are fully operational,” said a female hologram.
Envoy Azz'kal stood on the balcony of a towering spire in the middle of a dark and damp wasteland. Thousands upon thousands of Vessh'Kul were clamoring around the entire area in which the envoy could see from his perch.
“Good,” said Envoy Azz'kal, “Prepare to launch the new hive; the coordinates are with Brother Hag'aska.”
The female hologram bowed before disappearing into static.
Envoy Azz'kal was a tall envoy with bandages around his face, save for two slits that revealed his blood-red eyes. He wore a tattered cloak over his shoulders, which covered most of his grotesque appearance. He placed all four hands on the balcony rail as he leaned forward to gaze towards the rising sun.
“Enjoying yourself, Guardian?” asked a deep, gruff voice.
Azz'kal turned to see a quite large envoy standing behind him. His body was rippling with biotic muscles. He wore a helmet stylized with spikes and horns. A flowing cape hung from his shoulders. He wore obsidian armor; blacker that the depths of space itself. The creature was truly an ominous figure, but Azz'kal barely took notice of him.
“Why do you bless me with your presence, Bone Snatcher?” asked Azz'kal in an uncaring tone.
“The Queen's current host body, Ala'dal, has perished over the night, Guardian,” he said, “Under your watch, might I add...”
Azz'kal snarled at his fellow envoy, “Atral'nal bala, Gresh'nikal!” He stormed from the balcony and headed back into the spire. His rage emanated from him like a thick, palpable miasma.
Gresh'nikal, the Bone Snatcher chuckled to himself, “Mind your tongue, Azz'kal the Guardian... It would be a shame if you swallowed it...!”
Azz'kal stormed through the corridors of the spire as he rushed to his Queen's side. All sorts of Vessh'Kul fell to their knees as Azz'kal passed—all in respect for the envoy gracing their presence. Azz'kal paid little attention to them, for he knew that there were more pressing matters at hand.
He stopped before two large doors. The doors were ornate, and decorated with many jewels and precious metals. Azz'kal pushed the doors open to found himself in a magnificent room with purple drapes lining the walls. Statues of might Vessh'Kul warriors stood along the walls. At the end of the hall were two other envoys standing beside a large throne. In the throne sat female dark elf, aged beyond her years. Her skin was decaying and festering. However, she was still moving; it was either a miracle of medicine or some sort of magic that kept the corpse alive.
“Brother Azz'kal,” said one of the envoys, “Queen Ala'dal has been waiting for you.”
The dark elf opened her eyes and gazed upon Azz'kal. The loyal subject rushed to her side and fell to one knee, allowing the elf to whisper into his ears.
“Find... Me a new... Host... A young one... A young one from... The youngest race...” she said weakly, “Find me... A human...”
Azz'kal nodded humbly, “Yes, yes my queen. I will do as you wish!” he exclaimed. He rose and turned to his fellow envoys, “Brothers Zen'zen and Tula'tahj, rally the troops,” he said, “We will strike at the humans. Our target is Io—the humans have little to no contact with many of the main FSA fleets there. Our intelligence has shown us that the humans do in fact have a colony there. I have been waiting a long time for this to happen... I even have the perfect human in mind to capture for our Queen to use.”
The envoys nodded, “Yes brother,” spoke one, “We will do as you say. You are the wisest and eldest of us all—we know you are the most apt to lead during times like this.”
“This is because I am Azz'kal.”
“All systems are fully operational,” said a female hologram.
Envoy Azz'kal stood on the balcony of a towering spire in the middle of a dark and damp wasteland. Thousands upon thousands of Vessh'Kul were clamoring around the entire area in which the envoy could see from his perch.
“Good,” said Envoy Azz'kal, “Prepare to launch the new hive; the coordinates are with Brother Hag'aska.”
The female hologram bowed before disappearing into static.
Envoy Azz'kal was a tall envoy with bandages around his face, save for two slits that revealed his blood-red eyes. He wore a tattered cloak over his shoulders, which covered most of his grotesque appearance. He placed all four hands on the balcony rail as he leaned forward to gaze towards the rising sun.
“Enjoying yourself, Guardian?” asked a deep, gruff voice.
Azz'kal turned to see a quite large envoy standing behind him. His body was rippling with biotic muscles. He wore a helmet stylized with spikes and horns. A flowing cape hung from his shoulders. He wore obsidian armor; blacker that the depths of space itself. The creature was truly an ominous figure, but Azz'kal barely took notice of him.
“Why do you bless me with your presence, Bone Snatcher?” asked Azz'kal in an uncaring tone.
“The Queen's current host body, Ala'dal, has perished over the night, Guardian,” he said, “Under your watch, might I add...”
Azz'kal snarled at his fellow envoy, “Atral'nal bala, Gresh'nikal!” He stormed from the balcony and headed back into the spire. His rage emanated from him like a thick, palpable miasma.
Gresh'nikal, the Bone Snatcher chuckled to himself, “Mind your tongue, Azz'kal the Guardian... It would be a shame if you swallowed it...!”
Azz'kal stormed through the corridors of the spire as he rushed to his Queen's side. All sorts of Vessh'Kul fell to their knees as Azz'kal passed—all in respect for the envoy gracing their presence. Azz'kal paid little attention to them, for he knew that there were more pressing matters at hand.
He stopped before two large doors. The doors were ornate, and decorated with many jewels and precious metals. Azz'kal pushed the doors open to found himself in a magnificent room with purple drapes lining the walls. Statues of might Vessh'Kul warriors stood along the walls. At the end of the hall were two other envoys standing beside a large throne. In the throne sat female dark elf, aged beyond her years. Her skin was decaying and festering. However, she was still moving; it was either a miracle of medicine or some sort of magic that kept the corpse alive.
“Brother Azz'kal,” said one of the envoys, “Queen Ala'dal has been waiting for you.”
The dark elf opened her eyes and gazed upon Azz'kal. The loyal subject rushed to her side and fell to one knee, allowing the elf to whisper into his ears.
“Find... Me a new... Host... A young one... A young one from... The youngest race...” she said weakly, “Find me... A human...”
Azz'kal nodded humbly, “Yes, yes my queen. I will do as you wish!” he exclaimed. He rose and turned to his fellow envoys, “Brothers Zen'zen and Tula'tahj, rally the troops,” he said, “We will strike at the humans. Our target is Io—the humans have little to no contact with many of the main FSA fleets there. Our intelligence has shown us that the humans do in fact have a colony there. I have been waiting a long time for this to happen... I even have the perfect human in mind to capture for our Queen to use.”
The envoys nodded, “Yes brother,” spoke one, “We will do as you say. You are the wisest and eldest of us all—we know you are the most apt to lead during times like this.”
“This is because I am Azz'kal.”