User:GoldenYak/Altar of the Deep Void

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Altar of the Deep Void

The Altar of the Deep Void is located in the distant wilderness of Yuggol. Black stone set in the brittle earth, surrounded by ominous black obelisks, the Altar is a repository of dark knowledge concerning the Void.

The Altar of the Deep Void

Tended by the mysterious entity known as Gnarla'thortec, a being shrouded in ragged cloth and possessing the ability to translate the language of Shath'Yar into concepts that mortal minds can comprehend. All those who come to the Altar of the Deep Void are greeted warmly by this being, who freely offers knowledge of the Void to all comers.

Gnarla'thortec, the Ragged Scribe

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the ragged scribe. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I offer truths to all who seek them. Most are not strong enough to accept them.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. If you can understand nothing else, understand this.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Light blinds. But in darkness, the eyes open wider.
Gnarla'thortec says: Pwhn'guul i ghawl'fwata ryiu wgah uul'gwan h'iwn guu'lal.
Gossip The Void
Gossip The Old Gods
Gossip The Aqir
Gossip The N'raqi
Gossip The Curse of Flesh
Gossip T'Goggus
Gossip Y'Uurd
Gossip Zom-Nurgal
Gossip Ny'Adrin
Gossip The Titans
Gossip Void Lords
Gossip The Dark Titan
Gossip Azeroth

The Void

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the parasite minstrel. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the Void itself? That most profound of darknesses?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. There are those who would lie to you, and say once there was only Light. This is not so. Light and Void always existed, together. Within the Light, the Void waited, the dark heart of all things.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Light was stagnant existence, hollow and flavorless. A brittle cocoon hiding the true glory within. At last the Void could wait no more. The Void divided itself from Light. Glorious stygian chaos bubbling free of its luminous prison.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Light and Void went to war. Infinity and Eternity clashed and fought. From this magnificent conflict were all things in the cosmos born, slick and screaming. The Void is the black womb of creation, bringing forth the infinite variety of powers from eternal, sterile sameness.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Do you see the truth, mortal? Light alone would have been endless, empty luminance. No life and death. No joyous chaos. No nightmares. No madness. Can you conceive of it mortal? Can you imagine our horror at the prospect?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Have we not earned the right to hate the Light?
Gnarla'thortec says: Tulall par'okoth. Far'al, ka'kar.

The Old Gods

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the immaculate slime of divine snails. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the Shath'yar? The seeker-hounds of the Masters of Infinity?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You call them Old Gods. They are worshiped in a billion billion screaming voices across the Great Dark Beyond.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Their flesh is not as yours. Their souls are not as yours. They are Void matter, the black blood of the cosmos. The substance of the Void sculpted into the perfect form befitting their function.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. They bubble and seethe along angles you cannot see. They have grown organs into dimensions you cannot perceive. Their essence is Void, and they bring the blessing of the darkness to all their touch carresses.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. They seek the slumbering children of the Titans, soft and vulnerable in their stony wombs. They sink their roots in deep and pour the sweet black voice of the Void. They whisper to the sleeping child, telling it of the glories that will be when it awakes, when it heeds the voice of the Void.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. They do not live. They do not die. They are beyond the cycle. Break one, and the black essence of its power endures, to be tapped and put to use. Many Shath'yar fall upon a world, but only one can rule over all.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Shath'yar dream. They dream of the Titans, of what they will awaken to become. They dream of being the one that will take its place alongside the Masters of Infinity as one of their own.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Shath'yar dream, and they are dreams. The dreams of the Void. Worship them not, mortal. The gods do not hear your prayers. They listen only to your screams.
Gnarla'thortec says: Y'knath k'th'rygg k'yi mrr'ungha gr'mula.

The Aqir

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the word poisoner. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the aqir? The crawling chaos of the Shath'yar?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Shath'yar are the dreams of the Void made manifest. Their flesh is Void, made into matter. But their flesh and blood cannot contain the hateful majesty of their power, and it spills forth in a tide. It feeds on the stuff of the realms beyond the Void. Void becomes flesh becomes Void becomes flesh. The aqir are Void made flesh that feeds on the substance of the material realm, lesser expressions of the Void.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. They are Void, and not Void. The other powers - elemental, arcane, fel, life, decay - soak into their Voidflesh bodies. With this power they are diminished, but they adapt to the material realm, growing and changing to suit their environment. They take many forms - myrmec, qiraj, nerub, vespar, zmei, manti, gorvec, hespex.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Can they stray from the majesty of the Void and seek their own ambition? Can your own limbs betray you and tear themselves from your body?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Perhaps they can, mortal. With the Void, all things are possible.
Gnarla'thortec says: H'thon marwol qualar.

The N'raqi

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the mishapen mirror. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the n'raqi? The nobility of the Black Empire?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Shath'yar dream, and are dreams. The dreams of the Void. Their black majesty cannot be caged in receptacles of meat, and pours forth in dark abundance.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Their dreams become flesh, Void energies arranged in stable patterns... for a given value of stable.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The n'raqi are the dreams of the Shath'yar caged in flesh. They slide and drip. They crawl and spread. They are less a species of beast, and more a hive. A mold. A creeping fungus, fueled by the darkness between the stars.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Earth blackens at their tread. Seas dry up. Stars go out. Sanity erodes. Do you believe that they are feeding on you, mortal? That they take from you for themselves?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. No. It is the reverse. They do not feed on you. You feed on them. Soul and flesh feed on the black sweetness of the Void, drinking it in to every scrap and flinder of your being. Soon you burst the stifling cages of order that limit you, and all that you are flows in new ways, wonderful and terrible.
Gnarla'thortec says: Al'golath mal shal'nel.

The Curse of Flesh

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the synthesis matrix compromised. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the Curse of Flesh? The masterpiece nightmare of the Shath'yar?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Mortals have long believed disease to be a punishment from gods, a judgment upon their wickedness. This is not true of the Curse of Flesh. It it the gift of the gods, bestowed lovingly upon poor, lost children to show them the glories of the Infinite Night.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The star-striders forged a blueprint for living beings - the synthesis matrix. Binding energies to the living blueprint brought life to the lifeless - stone, crystal, molten fire, arcane luminance. But these sorry beings were only the striders poor, blunted efforts at creating life, doomed by their makers limitations.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. That which does not change does not grow. That which does not grow does not live. Eternal stone could not truly be alive. The maggot feasting on rotten flesh knows more of life than the eldest gigas.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. In the dark dreams of the Shath'yar, a solution to this grave injustice, a way to save the stone cursed to knowing, unchanging stasis. It is not a disease. It is a message. Flowing through hundreds of dimensions, resonating in harmonies you cannot perceive. It is substance and thought, sizzling oil, drifting pollution, a roiling storm, a whisper in dreams.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Stone becomes flesh. The flesh grows. The earthen scratches at its stony arms, flecks of granite flake away. Underneath a garden of writhing glory.
Gnarla'thortec says: Log'loth og shandai.

T'Goggus

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the tongue of night. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the Butcher of Worlds? The Shath'yar T'Goggus?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Many Shath'yar fall upon a world, but in the end only one may rule. Only one may burrow deep and build a nest in the heart of the slumbering world soul. How can there be only one in the end? They do not die, but all things can be devoured.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Butcher killed and ate his brothers and sisters. He feasted on their dark flesh and drank their thwarted ambitions. But when he cracked his world apart for the main course, there was no soul to be found.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. His rage rang out into the Great Dark Beyond, and across the stars a thousand star-gazing souls heard his bellow and tore at their flesh in maddened exaltation.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. T'Goggus shed his broken empty world and sought out others. A trail of murdered worlds he left across the cosmos. The mighty Legion could have learned much from him in those days.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. T'Goggus found no Titan souls before the Void called him home. The homecoming was rude. A butcher, butchered. His broken carcass cast into the Void. By who? By what?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. In the end, only one Shath'yar may rule.
Gnarla'thortec says: Thoth'al amun Ree'thael vormos.

Y'Uurd

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the empty heart. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of He Who Shapes? The Shath'yar Y'Uurd?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. He is the flesh weaver, the blood scribe. Maker of matter that grows and writhes and dies. The Masters of Infinity granted him knowledge of the physical realm, and the elements that lie above and below the planes of Light and Void.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. He folded space and energy. He sang with his six mouths to the elements, making them dance and scream, making them flow into new shapes. With his hundred hands, he molded the clay of reality. You are material to him, that he longs to sculpt into something pleasing to the dark.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. He is the architect of your liberation. The Curse of Flesh. He forged it. And other, greater horrors.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. He made life. He feeds on death. He. He. He Who Shapes.
Gnarla'thortec says: Uulwi gag erh'ongg w'ssh.

Zom-Nurgal

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the scream of black hole suns. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the Keeper of Secrets? The Shath'yar Zom-Nurgal?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Starry wisdom is her domain, and the souls she devours are stripped of their secrets before the fall screaming into the Void. When her shadow falls upon a world, all is silent and still, all screams swallowed by the dark.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Shath'yar were called to return. The Shath'yar were set upon one-another. Only one may rule. The Path of Ruin devoured the Butcher. The Hundred Hands and the Keeper of Secrets hid themselves from it's sight.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Blood is spilled. Black tongues lap up the feast, building the strength they need to rule. While many Shath'yar war, the candle of the world still burns.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. When one alone in triumph shouts... the candle of the world goes out.
Gnarla'thortec says: Sh'rhalai kath galyeth, kol gag gr'lio.

Ny'Adrin

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the anti-life equation. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the Path to Ruin? The Shath'yar Ny'Adrin?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Thirteen calamities has he. An even dozen, and one more to tip the balance towards chaos. His shadow is the blooming of plague orchards. His voice is the roar of rabid beasts. His presence is entropy itself, unmaking the bonds of energy that prevent your dissolution into undifferentiated organic residue. His gaze transmutes the spirit into a crumbling, black coal that burns with a corpse-blue flame.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Only one Shath'yar may rule. The victor must devour his brothers and sisters. Few accomplish this. Sevenfold Y'Shaarj came close. Dread Kax'Tei fell afoul of the Burning Legion, and glutted himself on fel fire before the Dark Titan ended him. Ny'Adrin too stood atop his chosen world, the bones of his brethren strewn about him. But there was no worldsoul to be had for the final feast, and so the Path to Ruin split his world apart and sailed into the Great Dark Beyond.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Void drew him home. He was not alone. He Who Shapes. The Keeper of Secrets. The Butcher of Worlds. The Void bid them play out the same game again. To build the strength they need to conquer the Final Titan.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Ny'Adrin has fed well. But all his meals are only prelude. Silently, the Keeper of Secrets approaches. He will not hear her coming, but will it be enough? The gaze of the Void falls upon Azeroth, and the Shath'yar hunger. Only one may rule, alone.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ywaq maq oou; ywaq maq ssaggh. Ywaq ma shg'fhn.

The Titans

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the maggot in your liver. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the star-striders? The blind idiot-gardeners?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Light and Void bore all things from their conflict, their war the fathermother of the cosmos. Do not mistake existing first for being strongest. Both powers together birthed powers that may surpass either one. The Titans embody order, life, and elemental energy. No single force greater than an awoken Titan exists. Not yet.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. In the Void, parent feeds on young to prevent the rise of rivals. I had many siblings. Our fathermother feasted on them, but I alone survived. I returned to eat the fathermother's heart. Lesson learned - what you spawned can kill you.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Light is sterile. Void birthed the Titans. Titans would bar the Void forever from the feast of stars. Void will feed on young first. Take the power of the Titans.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Then all the stars go out.
Gnarla'thortec says: Uull lwhuk h'iwn.

The Void Lords

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the nightwatchman of Ny'alotha. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the Masters of Infinity? They who were, are, and shall ever be?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. They are darkness, beautiful and profound. They are the Void, and the Void is they. The cosmos is a dream, and they are its dreamers. The Light brought forth nothing for an endless eternity. It is sterile, empty luminance, that cannot dream. Only with the advent of the Void was reality realized.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. They have no eyes, but they see you. They have no mouths, but they grin. They are shadows cast without light.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. They are the faceless ones. They are the Shath'yar. They are the voidwalkers. They are the demons. They are the mortals. They are you. For every thing in the cosmos that dreams, a Void Lord waits in the darkness. And when you cease, your Void Lord will endure, a shadow cast on existence for all eternity. They do not live. They do not die. They are outside the cycle, looking in.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You mortals have a concept, an idea. You call it 'good'. It is a lie you tell yourselves, to stop the screaming of your souls.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Your souls know the truth. There can be no good, in a reality where they exist.
Gnarla'thortec says: Shur'nyab... shur'nyab... Ny'alotha...

The Dark Titan

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am the dream of the darkness. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the Shath'yar's ambitions realized? The great plan of the Masters of Infinity?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The star-striders bristle with the energy of the cosmos. They are all things, their power overwhelming. Their brilliance causes even the Void itself to retreat.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. From within the depths of the Void, the Masters of Infinity watch with hungry eyes. They reach out to make the children of the Titans theirs. To pour their darkness into the hearts of the god-monarchs of the realms of matter and energy.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The Void Lords would know what it is to exist as the Titans do. To stride across plains of cosmic dust. To weave the diaspora of broken stars into new and vital forms. To crack apart worlds between their teeth, and let the blood of life warm their black hole bellies.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Ask yourself this mortal. What is the worst thing you can imagine?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I tell you truly - this will be worse.
Gnarla'thortec says: Bo'al lal arwi C'toth.

Azeroth

Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. I am what I am. Welcome.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. You would know of the final seedling? The singer of the song that extinguishes the stars?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. The fallen Titan, Sargeras, beheld the majesty of Infinite Night, and cowardice devoured his once mighty soul. Blindly he sought to forestall that which is inevitable, and opened his heart to the devouring fire, fire that consumed the star-striders and so many of their children.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Only one child remains. The mightiest spawn of cosmic consonance. Nested in her stone womb she grows, nourished on chaos and bloodshed. The Shath'Yar have whispered to her, spilled their blood upon her.
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. Does she heed the voice of the Void? Does she dream of the Corpse City, of the screaming stars, the endless reign of Anti-Light?
Gnarla'thortec says: Ssssskk. If not already, she will soon. The Void Lords prepare a final dream.
Gnarla'thortec says: Y'knath k'th'rygg k'yi mrr'ungha gr'mula.
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