Appraisalist

“Why do we have to do this again?” A voice drawled from in the dark... or at least it would be a ‘voice’ if one could interpret its straining of the inherent nature of all that is to a rhythmic coded pulse as sound.

“Well it’s not like the other side is planning to let up ya know.” Another chirped from beyond all physical concept... cheerful in its maddening chitter. “We gotta get ta making our champion, gotta get it nice and primed for the next match ya know!”

“You’re just eager because the last two chose your path for their primary.” A third ‘voice’ interjected. Its entire manner would have spoken to the very primal ideal of class, style… and death. “In truth I can’t understand why, you promise nothing of true substance.”

“Oh like you’ve got anything going for you but angst and over blown style?” the supernatural cheer within the retort bordered on an insult in and of itself.

“Ugg… having to tolerate you…”

“Awww! ya know ya love me!”

“Yes like common dirt beneath my heel.”

“... don’t argue.” Came the first voice, it’s slow drawl drawing up into a maddening rumble. The others, it seemed, took pause. “I just want to get back to sleep... so the sooner we do this the sooner we can get back to pretending none of the rest of you exist.”

There were no faces… but the world itself grimaced with the three as one,

“Ugg… I suppose… Yet it is in our nature to bicker and oppose. To cooperate without duress is simply an unnatural state of things.” The third voiced its distaste, the very idea of a cooperative process resonated with disgust. “But what else can we do when those bitches keep creating ‘heroes’ to sweep our creations up from the playing field?”

“Yeah… but even da Dragon God has gotten tired of our fighin...” The second chirped in.

“Yes. Orborus is being silly… and difficult. But at least he’s still acting with neutrality in this case.” The third considered.

“He is the absolute of Neutrality. Creator of a race that worships only itself…” The first voice rumbled in a manner which could only be taken as unhappy. “Either way his addition is too likely to make this entire thing go faster… which means having to do this all over again sooner.”

“”Really of all the things… deciding that our Champion and those feather-brained fool’s Hero are to be marked as Dragon bait…”

“Well… not like we couldn’t totally use that ta our advantage.”

“Unnngg… enough talking. Let’s just get this thing over with. The sooner the better.”

Agreement echoed thought out all things, the fractious might of the gods of chaos began to hum, the world itself chanting to their unholy tune. Darkness and chaos overcame, bandying their powers about in a wild fury of insane clashing. Power overwhelming, unleashed and inherent coalesced.

They would make what they were not.

Where their other creations knew only the selfish impulse of gratification… the champion would Unify. Where their other creations were wild and with only the semblance of discipline, beneath the champion they would fight as one. Virtue paired darkly with the power of Vice. The champion would embody Order as grown from Chaos... just as its counterpart would be its mirror a lone figure aimed as an arrow at the heart of darkness, the Champion would be a leader gathering together the scattered might of the Monstrous.

Only the Hero could slay the Champion.

Only the Champion’s influence could end the Hero.

Together the gods of the Chaotic Night clashed and created, broke down and built up...

Ulfrek the Juggernaught, god of The Mighty, lord of sloth, gluttony, and Wrath devoured a path in the world as was needed, pounding it into shape.
Bek the Quickened, god of The Unending, Lord of Lust, and Greed stole away the patterns to be brought to life.
Vandreel the Unbound, god of the Aftermath, Lord of Envy and Pride enacted its own warped reflection of the world and made it real.

“It’s my turn to choose da OP skill for this one!” Bek tittered, its cheerful demeanor echoing though-out creation. “I’ve been crafting this bit in anticipation of this turn. Even my highest priest never got anything of it.”

“Stop bragging and spin the dammed thing into the soul…”

“Fine spoiled sport… Ah won’t tell ya all about my amazing catalogue of everything that is!”

“Shut it and finish this… I want to sleep.”


...

The world cracked.

The soul of the Black Wild King was born anew.

The Dark lord wakes...




What are you?

[] Goblinoid
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