Thought, Contemplation, Consideration. All of these words cross your mind as you ponder your next course of action. Dozens of paths lie before you, each of them with their own benefits and drawbacks. Should you fail in your attempt, it could be eons before you get another chance, so it's in your best interest to choose carefully and choose wisely.
An entire day passes as you plan and scheme. It doesn't matter, you do not tire. Night falls, but to you, it is as clear as day. To the east lies the east lies the Urut Empire, filled with pious frontiersmen and devoutly assembled shrines. The thought of rending their bronze idols asunder and burning their sacred logs to nothingness, consuming their priests whole and gazing into their eyes, into their minds, and into their very souls as they realize their faith is hollow and meaningless before the faintest instant of eternity... It is beautiful, and in time you will see it come to pass, but not now... Not yet...
To the west lies the orcish plains, filled with primitive orc nomads. Large, strong, quick to anger and simple minded, they'll submit with little effort, and serve your purposes well. Having made your decision, you climb off of the mountain of rubble, smash it to pieces with your chain, and get to walking.
...
It takes a good three days of non-stop travel before you encounter an orc tribe, and you consume 3 Void Essence during the journey. Little over a dozen orcs sit around a campfire, spit roasting a goat, and you hear their raucous laughter before you ever reach them. Most are adults, though a few infants suckle their mothers, most likely spawned two months earlier in the dead of winter.
They never knew what hit them, a blindingly fast sweep of your chain eviscerates half of them, and three precise strikes end four. The remaining trio, two grown males and one thin, lanky adloescent, draw their flint knives and charge. They never reach you.
You are hunched over the campsite consuming their souls when a pinprick itches you. You turn your consciousness to face the threat, and see a grinning orc female clutching a recurve bow. Her arrow struck true and sank to the fletching, were you mortal it would've been a fearsome blow. You are not mortal. A pulse of void dissolves the arrow and seals the wound in half a moment, and her grin disappears just as fast.
She turns and sprints as fast as her legs will carry her as you dine, wondering if you should let her escape. On one hand, she'll spread rumors of your presence, and on the other hand, she'll spread rumors of your presence. After she's nearly gone, you decide against it. You tear into her mind, flooding her senses with visions of eldritch geometry and she collapses, dead from an aneurysm.
You finish eating in peace, and glean some valuable information from the souls. The orcs of these plains worship Okran, God of War, Savagery, and Orcs as a monotheistic deity. Okran's children and ascended Orcs are worshiped in a lesser pantheon. They also practice reverence to their ancestors.
The orcs you've just consumed were an offshoot of a larger tribe that broke off after a goat plague decimated their food source. Judging by the now-skeletal herd of forty goats, they'd been doing quite well for themselves before you came along. Now they don't exist, but that's just the natural state of things.
You have several choices ahead of you. You could head to the nearest orc tribe to dominate or consume them, or try to find a suitable orcish raiding party for the same. You could travel deeper into the plains and try to find a watering ground with an orcish temple to defile, or look for a human hunting party.
You have a reasonable stockpile of Void Essence, you could try to corrupt the plains or coalesce the Void into some capable minions, or perhaps change your form into something more pleasing. Of course, you could always return to the Urut Empire and do something there... It's all up to you.
63 Void Essence
Void Chains
Hulking, Ogre-like form
Author
Topic: You Are An Aberration Of The Void! (SG) (Read 4169 times)