User:GoldenYak/World's Heart/Lords of the Void

Lords of the Void
Monstrous entities who are composed of pure shadow energy and dwell within the Void, outside the borders of reality. Merciless and cruel, they seek only to devour all things in the universe. While Sargeras and his Burning Legion seek to annihilate all things so that a new universe may be created, the Void Lords want something infinitely worse - to bind all souls to their will, to spread the darkness of the Void throughout the cosmos, and to consume all hope and sanity, making every sentient thing in existence writhe in eternal agony and madness for their twisted amusement.

Masters of Infinity

 * yell

Zog'Khorath, He Who Shapes

 * yell

Weaver of flesh and blood, master of matter. This Void Lord holds the greatest amount of knowledge about the physical realm of matter and elements that lies beyond the higher planes of the Light and the Void. He Who Shapes folded space and energy, and brought forth solid matter made from the stuff of the Void, and from this material he wove all the Old Gods that were flung into the Great Dark Beyond to seek the worldsouls of the Titans. Countless were his creations, each one unique in some way, designed to change and evolve, adapting to corrupt whatever world they fell upon. He taught his creations the Curse of Flesh, and longs to spread it through all the cosmos, smothering all things under an undying tide of Void-spawned organic chaos.

Onare, Singer of Sorrows

 * yell

Sheolggann, Always Empty

 * yell

Segarras, Thundering Fists

 * yell

Gannorgon, Thief of Voices

 * yell

Ragmarag, Lord of Decay

 * yell

Nul'Thama, the Dead Sea

 * yell

There was an time outside of time, where the first darkness, the eldest of the eld, came to be.

He fought the Light, and died.

But he would not stay dead.

Zothera, Breaker of the Light

 * yell

Words of the Old God, Zom-Nurgal
Listen sweetling, be silent and hear only my voice. I speak only truth, I alone. For I speak for the Lords of the Void. I speak the words of the dark.

This existence of matter and energies, of worlds and spaces and dimensions, is not the first of its kind. Before it was born, there was another, a realm of endless wonders, peopled by primordial beings as far beyond your gods as they are beyond you.

Even these ancients paled before the power of chaos, eternal chaos, which pulled them down from their lofty thrones and set them to war. Such delicious war. The war murdered their realm, sent it sliding down into ruin. Entropy devoured their glories and licked black tongues across their murdered miracles.

All of them fell to chaos. All but one. One coward. One wretch. She fled the ruin, stepped away, strode out of the devouring chaos and moved beyond it. She found herself alone, but did not remain thus.

She divided herself, split herself asunder, and from her remains she made all that you know. Matter - her flesh. Life - her breath. Nether - her dreams. Light - her soul. In the shadow of her Light was born the Void, the absence of Her, made real by her presence. From her ugly head, her craven thoughts, her petty memories, the Usurpers. Your Makers. Your Titans.

"O, we have fallen. We must rebuild the Final Titan." Mewling miscreations! Ever they have sought to unite all Her pieces. They nurture Her breath. They carve Her meat and sculpt Her bones. They scour Her dreams of nightmares. They uncover more of Her memories. Molding the new cosmos in the image of the old. All to stoke Her perfect soul, waiting for it to re-awaken, to rebuild what was lost. To protect them from what was coming.

For Her ruined realm, its fields of god-dead and rotten promises, did not lie quiet in its cosmic grave. Shivering within its murdered flesh were cancers and rot-growths, chaos festering itself into being. Seas of black-oil tears and forests of laughing tumours. Mountains of mouths and clouds of eyes. The wailing un-song of Anti-Life.

It was we, sweetling! My fetid, feculent family and me! This is what we are - the corpse of that murdered universe risen from oblivion, clawing up out of our cosmic tomb. We are the chaos that whispered in their ears, pulling them to ruin so we could wear their skin. We are the True Reality, that which was and will be again. We are worlds and suns, time and space, planar realms and parallel dimensions. We are Anti-Life, Anti-Soul, Anti-Light, all united to consume you.

Not to destroy you, not to unshackle that spark of Her you call a soul and send you into her Light - no, we make you like us! We make you one with us! Screaming forever on the jagged edge of insanity, wallowing in the black eternities of murdered time, writhing in the glow of hollow suns, the lamps of Anti-Light. You will crawl and beg and die a million, million times and never, ever end, your screams an endless hymn to us.

Hail C'thun and his Unblinking Eye! Hail Yogg-Saron and his Thousand Maws! Hail N'Zoth and his Thirteen Secrets! Hail Y'Shaarj and his Seven Terrors!

Hail Y'Uurd the Hundred Handed! Hail Ryun'eh of the Living Blood! Hail Nagra'nul the Hopeflayer! Hail Baz'Korok the Slavemaster!

Hail Ny'Adrin and Zad'Rathaum! Hail O'gaugar and A'payeck! Hail R'Kagoth and Vog-Gangul! Hail Great T'Goggus and Zom-Nurgal!

Hail one and all and all-in-one! We are the Light at the far side of existence, Lords of the Void, the Anti-Light, the opposite of all you love, the first and oldest primordial truth!

Ask yourself, sweetling, what is the worst thing you can imagine?

It is us, sweetling! It is us!

You will see us again soon, sweetlings. We are already there, nesting on your world. Do you know what the Dark Titan seeks it? Do you know why the Old Gods hungers for it? Why we return, time and again?

The Final Titan... the Maker of these cosmos... She who made all things from Herself... She sleeps, and will sleep until Her heart and soul are made one again and she is reborn.

Her heart... Her heart bears Her name. Do you know Her name, sweetling?

Her name... was Azeroth...