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The cries of hundreds, of thousands, of hundreds of thousands, of millions, no, countless individuals from all species known and unknown rang throughout the air.
Their maws of all shapes and sizes opened as much as they could for these cheers, mangled and deteriorating flesh stretching far beyond its natural capacity and splitting open to reveal mutations long-waiting within their bodies. Sunken eyes all peered upward, awaiting their leader, this shepherd who brought these cosmic gods to their worlds to grant them endless power and freedom of body and mind.
All he asked for in return was loyalty to these alien gods. The beings would never be taught to control themselves as the mysterious Light would ask. They would never be taught to hate themselves and leave worlds as empty smoldering husks like the demons did. Everything that existed under the rule of the gods from beyond, existed to be enjoyed and always rebuilt by Them and Their servants.
A cacophony of reverence broke out as a figure emerged at the top of the hill, clad so heavily in various armors and yet its unstable growths pushed through the cracks and dents of the metals. Whatever this thing had been before, few could tell, yet none cared. Their completely changed bodies and ever ghastly expressions all reflected the instability and horrors that they knew now.
"Salvation through the Gods!" The abomination knew that they were not truly the 'Old Gods' that some useless planet had once called them. They were simply THE Gods, the rulers of all realms and realities in which any thing would ever exist.
"Salvation!" Thousands of languages, millions of dialects all wailed out this one single word. This was what the prophet of these Gods from beyond taught them, as he had once been taught.
The word was upon the mouths and minds of all beings.
Avaruu had long ceased to pay mind to his surroundings. His upcoming newsletter sat half-written on its old obsidian altar serving as a table, deep purple ink beginning to stain into the parchment. He looked at it, but he did not.
Only a faint spark within his conscientious reviled these visions. All of it was the wrongest of wrong, even worse than the Legion's man'ari that had drive and purpose in the back of their fel-addled minds. Everything he was doing, and his support of the ancient beings, would land him in an afterlife of torment worse than anything anyone could ever do to him in the physical.
His mind screamed for release from this insanity, to revert to the brighter teachings of any other great power.
His corrupted body twisted his lips upward into a smile.
Tucked away in a locked room, Otodo sat staring at the blank wall. The thoughts which troubled his mind kept him from sleeping, coping and understanding. A rage from yesterday built up into today and he feared for tomorrow because it could mean he does something foolish. In doing something reckless, he chanced the one thing he had to hold on to.
He did not grasp the reason as to why it was all suddenly coming back to him. Time spent away from his Avaruu meant he was not involved in these Gods the younger Draenei was completely obsessed with. There was no hate for Venita, nor his brother Riaan or the Anchorite who pestered them nights before.
What could sate him in this moment? Did he need battle to release this frustration? He hoped to find the answer because the longer he stared at this white wall, the more his fist balled and he was ready to slam it through the thin barrier.
The screeching and roaring in his mind never ceased.
Every moment was filled with the garbled cries of a creature from beyond, its consciousness latched onto his and tormenting the draenei endlessly so long as he ceased to pay attention to it. At all times did he try to soothe the thing, to ensure it that freedom was on its way soon.
It was not. He knew it, and the being knew it.
To dissuade it from calling out to him was impossible, so it seemed. His plans for a tremendous portal would never have worked in any case. It would have alerted anyone and everyone within a great distance. His plan had been scrapped, then, but the sensations striking his mind over and over were starting to become truly maddening.
The words of the anchorite woman struck him. He had been heckled much in his own 'workspace' by this other draenei, desperate on convincing him to return to his people, and to the Light's embrace. He had lashed out at her before, but this never stopped her.
Pen to parchment had struck as surely as an idea had been struck into his mind, and to his dear vindicator Avaruu wrote in Draenic:
Just as his Gods always sang to him, so too would the draenei sing his own song in return.
Edited by Avaruu on 4/8/2013 8:46 AM PDT
WE NEED MORE PEOPLE
But but...well, the cookies thing we might have to kill you for, but I think Venita would make an ADORABLE kitty!
Upon reaching Silithus, the fallen Vindicator began his journey. Rage boiled within his body and his blood felt warmer than usual because of it. Who was this anchorite to think she was right in forcing the Light upon another who did not want it? Why did she want to be such a pain and risk her life? Was it not enough that he nearly choked her out and set her running for the hills? Clearly, she needed another lesson from him.
On his search, he trekked through the sandy landscape and slaughtered the annoyances in his way. Nothing could tear him down. Standing over nine feet tall, he was untouchable and could not be missed from miles away. He hoped his presence would send her running once more, the smell of a woman's fear would drive him mad with want. The very thoughts of her quivering before him brought a twisted smirk to his face.
However, it was not long before the letter found him in the middle of nowhere. Stopped in his tracks, he read it over and then again. What disappointment there was to be had from being unable to fulfill his duty. The smirk long faded from his lips as he penned back to his runty master.
Heaving out a breath, he turned his hooves and headed back to where he came from. There was nothing for him to chase for now and he had to remain patient. Time would tell when he and the anchorite would meet again, for fate had already written it.
Mighty Gods, Lords Below,
your servant, I have come to know.
Mighty Gods, Lords Below,
for you, the blood of foe!
Starry skies above do watch,
the eyes of our Gods Beyond.
Storms of desert wash the flesh,
the rage of our Gods Below!
From Their realm I call the hound,
for you, there is a feast abound!
An unnatural roar from beyond the obsidian portal ripped through the sandy winds.
They would not be denied.
Threats of violence. We take these seriously and will alert the proper authorities.
Harassing or discriminatory language. This will not be tolerated.