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Comments
The soul of Ashmond says, "Always with the sniping."
(Clan): Ictinus says, "Stop it Jiraishin, you're making me like you."
Daddy's mad at me.
(this is how good rumours start)
Tlalaiad. You stupid phone, it’s spelled Tlalaiad
Innumerable voices resonate as one as Tlalaiad, the Genesis dictates, "A bargain was struck by Us with some few of Tezlari-tarin."
Innumerable voices resonate as one as Tlalaiad, the Genesis dictates, "We honour Our bargain. We dictate that it will be upheld."
Innumerable voices resonate as one as Tlalaiad, the Genesis dictates, "Begin."
Reverberating with arcane might, the voice of Silon'ukia resounds across the continent in utmost clarity, every lilting note rendered in exact, perfect pitch as she declares, "Niena'balad."
Primal terror is all you know as the indomitable tones of The Dark Hate thunder throughout Creation, "Harbain-balad."
A groan of sudden stress sweeps through the earth beneath the Court of Shadows, its passage forcing a tremor from the rippling rock and soil.
Reverberating with arcane might, the voice of Silon'ukia resounds across the continent in utmost clarity, every lilting note rendered in exact, perfect pitch as she declares, "Niena'laiath!"
Primal terror is all you know as the indomitable tones of The Dark Hate thunder throughout Creation, "Mainad-laiath!"
A shuddering earthquake rocks the earth beneath you, quickly building from a rumble into a roar.
Screaming spirits surge in your sight, leaving a blizzard of black flecks floating across your gaze in the release of uncounted prisoners.
You feel a strange skitter in your thoughts, as though something were coiling at the back of your mind, new channels opening to beckon you toward new knowledge.
Primal terror is all you know as the indomitable tones of The Dark Hate thunder throughout Creation, "Noorala-uraiad!"
Reverberating with arcane might, the voice of Silon'ukia resounds across the continent in utmost clarity, every lilting note rendered in exact, perfect pitch as she declares, "Niena'uraiad!"
With a last, echoing roar and bucking heave of the ground beneath, the earthquake finally stills.
The undeniable sensations of Tsol'teth Terminus coil within your memory, thoughts not your own echoing in tandem with a new yet horrifying intrusion into Hashan's mind-web.
The whispered buzz of half-intelligible voices echoes in your mind with the sudden nearness of the Tsol'teth meld, an unholy pressure sweeping across and through your mind as you fall to your knees
before the sensation moves onward and elsewhere.
Shadowy thoughts, dark plans, and pure, unadulterated contempt roil through your mind and body in a sickening churn, gorge rising in your throat with your brief, untrammeled tether to the unconquerable
mind of the Dark Hate.
Whispered voices and half-intelligible thoughts grow within your thoughts as the impossible majesty of the Tsol'teth infuses your being. It is right, you know, for them to rule. They are above you, for you are inferior. It is tested. Sampled. Undeniable. You are a lesser being. The Tsol'teth are beyond you, bequeathed with a true destiny of ultimate power. And they will rise to it. Beyond it.
Even as you recognise these thoughts, not your own but impressed upon you, sparks of memory falling from something far grander and more encompassing, you feel a disquieting sense of rightness to them, a fleeting glimpse of the unity of purpose to be found in the Tsol'teth Meld.
The sensation of Ama-maalier's mind and presence fades from your thoughts, her attention turning blessedly away from you toward other, far more horrifying matters as your mind rebels, shying away
from even consideration of the path before the Dark Hate. But in its wake there is something new: knowledge of an open path to power where once there was none.
The ineffable visage of the Genesis looks down upon the world of Achaea, His gaze fixed upon the Court of Shadows.
Innumerable voices resonate as one as Tlalaiad, the Genesis dictates, "As Our rule is inevitable, so too is this that We dictate."
Innumerable voices resonate as one as Tlalaiad, the Genesis dictates, "Our bargain is fulfilled."