[Story] The Emperor lives still!

by **Shrogan** Wed Nov 24, 2010 11:16 pm

The tale of how Shro'gan survives Cataclysm!
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Shro'gan walked the Jungle, restless. Something was amiss and he knew it. The question is... what? The Vale had fallen under the influence of a vile sorcery as of late. Something of the likes which he had not yet seen in his lifetime... or could not even recall from previous ones. The Loa had attempted to warn him, but had never exactly said to what. Not even Shadra, the ever-weaver would now reveal to him her threads. And even Dambalah, whose wisdom always spoke through the Emperor's voice, seemed silent.
What manner of Heresy was afoot if the voice of the Loa could be silenced like that? Perhaps this was a test to his rule? He groaned at the thought, no, it could not be it. Not once had he shown weakness. Then what could it be? If not a test, then what manner of spell could still the tongues of the Gods?

It was then that the ground shook. Violently, before it stopped. Then again. And again. The Emperor snarled, taking a step back. He snarled as he began to conjure a spell. Muttering frantic prayers to his deafened Loa.
Then loud, louder than thunder and battle the Valley floor split open before him and rose. Rising tall, towering above him, the land mass soon crumbled over. The first of the rocks broke through his skin and the second he dodged. But soon a third, a forth and many other followed. Shrieking as he was swallowed by the earth, the Emperor's voice was no more.

In darkness, below stone and dirt, in the rocky grave however, the whispers did not cease. Drawing final breaths, Shro'gan continued. "All I have done has been in the name of Troll kind. Ours is the world which the Lesser have ruined... I..." His voice trailed off a bit as the Emperor struggled between conscious thought and death. He could feel his blood draining away from his nigh-crushed body. It had always been shed for his brethren. It had always been in Dambalah's name. His entire life had been devoted to the dream of the Loa! No... this could not be it. He had done all in his power to fight them, he'd swore that he'd see the Lesser cities in ruins! This couldn't be it! To silence the Emperor's voice! He, in whose body and Spirit was given Dambalah's might and strength! No... he'd not let this come to happen!
"I... My role is that of saviour and Messiah. I became a God... I ..." His voice trailed off with another push, giving place to a groan, his very own armour digging into his flesh.
"I..." He was stronger than this. Was he not the ultimate weapon, the pinacle of Troll strength and might?! "I... I WILL NOT BE SILENCED! Shirvallah! IN ME YOUR RAGE!" And he groaned as his torn muscles constricted his bones. He grit his teeth, blood sipping between them.
"IN ME! THE TENACITY OF TROLL KIND!" He pushed up, with a strength unknown to him. It pained, it was nigh-unbearable. He shook and shivered as his body threatened to fall and break, the flesh far too weak to sustain such display of power. Groaning, coughing blood and bile, a tooth snapping as he clenches his jaw with terrible strength.
He heard it, at last! The voice of the Loa! The growling of the Tiger! The Hissing of the Serpent! The skittering of the Spider and the Wings of the Bat! He snarled again, for his strength returned to him!
The cracking of the stone mixed with the crunching of bone. There shall be no rest, there shall be no peace. None shall know anything other than War, for He lived still! He refused to let go, for the Lesser drew breath!

Finally! With a final crack and the snapping of a bone, his torn fist emerged amidst the wreck. Then his arm. And pushing more rocks away, in an effort dignified of martyrdom he rose above his early grave. Battered, beaten and bloodied, his coughed chuckle echoed as he looked around himself. A chuckle which spewed forth more blood. He then looked around to the torn landscape and howled.
"LET IT BE KNOWN THAT THE VOICE OF THE GODS SHALL NOT BE SILENCED BY MERE PEBBLES AND DIRT! KNOW THAT EVEN THE STRONGEST OF THE LESSER IS ALL BUT A LESSER STILL TO THE MIGHT OF THE EMPEROR!" He spat another load of blood to the stone. "THE EMPIRE LIVES, NOW AND FOREVER MORE! WE SHALL ENDURE AND TAKE FROM THOSE WHO HAVE ALWAYS TAKEN FROM US! MINE ARE THE HOPES OF TROLL KIND AND IN ME, OUR TENACITY! OUR RESILIENCE! OUR FUTURE! AND NONE SHALL TAKE THEM AWAY FROM US! LET THE LESSER COME! FOR THEY MARCH TO THEIR DEATH! GLORY TO THE EMPIRE! PRAISE BE TO DAMBALAH! BLOOD! FIRE! DEATH!"
And for the first time in months, the Valley floor trembled beneath the Emperor's feet, for even the earth knew this to be true.