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[Event] Apotheosis


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"Lector?" Queried ORDAINED HERALD OF AZDROMOTH Patrick Brae's ghost

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As the creature conversed within the bustling market his eyes flickered hues of yellow fire. His expression changed to a smile as he looked towards his brother and student. "We will have a journey to make soon. Father calls" stated Ut'torvioth as he interrupted their conversation. @wooz @Safryie

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A grin would form upon the visage of a nephilim, his scaled hands moving to grip the eye of Ezren of Tuvia looking over it within his grasp as he went to stand "May father enjoy both this offering as well as the Crown of their Queen" 

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"Finally, he is back. With milk too, it seems." A young Azdrazi, Vahlok, commented on the matter. 

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1 hour ago, Qizu said:

As the creature conversed within the bustling market his eyes flickered hues of yellow fire. His expression changed to a smile as he looked towards his brother and student. "We will have a journey to make soon. Father calls" stated Ut'torvioth as he interrupted their conversation. @wooz @Safryie

 

"Father.The young Nephilim's voice hissed out from his polymorph. Smile plastered upon his face. 

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The An-Gho kneeled before the shrine of his Father. 

 

"Lord of Fire and Shadow. King of Dragons. 

 

 Heed these words; 

 

 That upon the end of days your Children shall war. 

 

 That until all is ash and done, our movements, shall be your movements."

 

 

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Be it the farthest of realms, or the emptiest of conquered worlds, all knew.

 

In the highest peaks of heaven, his mind was claimed with one premonition.

 

The madness, and reckoning to follow.

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[!]

The sounds of plate boots slamming the stone floor as they moved a hulking figure forwardly, would be heard in some forgotten hallway.

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A familiar son of the Arch-Drakaar slumbered in the mists of its fiery shrine, the flames of uncertainty beckoning fourth its calling- as they so yearned to fetch at the warmth of the father's flame. The child, alone, amidst madness, desired the breadth of the Titans wingspan to envelope its body; with it its sacred purpose destined. The arrival of the Titan is predetermined by the nature of his own powerful will.

 

 

ALL HAIL. THE MERCIFUL KING OF KINGS; OUR JUST LORD. O' FIRST-BORN

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A Herald of Raev origins awoke. Darting upright, as beads of sweat rolled from his forehead. He was disorentied, was it this dream. No... it wasn't a dream; he was there, he saw the Titan, He spoke to him. It was sublime and terrifying  - This was the second time he had been visited like this in his sleep. The first time it had changed his life, how would his life change now, he wondered. Whatever was to come, the Herald would be there.

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The waylaid Azdrazi Alistair recalled a distant memory from three or four centuries before. The smirking figure of his father clad in all black beneath a molten crown, simmering orange pearl-shaped eyes radiating the malice of colliding stars.

 

"And so you are returned to me Alistair. Now spread our blood, begin the Order of Nephilim anew."

 

Alistair had committed himself to that task. He went to the city of Johannesburg and laid the Keeper of Guardianship low, and battered her pupils as well. He created the first Azdrazi from humans who joined his cause and then also turned three Paladins to the cause of Azdromoth afterward, whether they had agreed to it or not. He had sired many Azdrazi from his blood, and they went on to sire more Azdrazi of their own. Now, his people were no longer extinct - they were a monomyth - a bulwark against Iblees, or so he thought. Heroes of Old wrought from flesh anew; the legacy of Dragur, the forbidden species grafted to the Tree of Life by the wiles of an absent Daemon and his firstborn son, the Black Titan Azdromoth.

 

There is little that the Dragaar's scion would not do for him. He still remembered that Azdromoth had unsealed him within the Ruins of Tor Azdraeth and gifted him the Immaculate Blade. A sword that lost neither shine nor luster and could draw a dragon's soul to its end should it turn against its creator. The sword was gone now, reclaimed by the Black Titan nearly a century ago, and now culling was an infrequent affair. Alistair shifted his gaze to his desk and began to write a letter to his friend so that they may go attend to his father's task.

 

The eldest of the Nephilim rides for Tor'Praeth, he thought humorously. Let them see that there is no purer son than me.

 

@Maiyun

 

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