Off the shores of the Glacial Wastes in the frozen Seas (GW week 1+)


Sir Stout looked out across the frosty waters, capped by icebergs, and endless in its oppressive cold.

He was a Quall now and his body was extremely sensitive to this cold, and he was dressed in the finest hide robes made from bestials slain for his amusement. Being an honored Morgothian Lord, honored among these Sea Kings allies was a good life if not for the cold.

Earlier in the week, Sea Kings Pharaoh Uiuilli had met with other groups, passing along his honored cargo to the Sea Kings Pharaoh Unix Kal Hobtla’al.

In Sir Stout’s honor, Pharaoh Unix had brought in sacrifices taken from freighters caught while they had been traversing the coastline.

[Twenty Earther and Olgog males and Twenty Earther and Olgog females have been brought to Sir Stout.

He can A) kill the Earthers and turn the Olgogs into WarGogs. B) Kill the Olgogs and turn the Earthers into Man O’War Fiends C) Kill half of each and train the rest as Morgothian Knights D) Trap all of them and use them as a forced breeding population E) Free them all

This thread is open to Sir Stout the Morgothian Paladin and One Eyed Willy only. The decision must be made by Sir Stout]


Sir Stout had gone through quite a transformation, all in the name of power for this good ol’ Morgothian. He could hardily contain himself at the thought of encountering his old squad, the look on their faces with the power and soon honor he had achieved. It got him thinking about his current state of being and then ideals that had brought him here. Damn, these Sea King with their Pharaohs Uiulli and Unix were indeed strange folk, but they were extremely gracious. It was something Sir Stout was reaping the benefits, so he could DEFINITELY get behind them.

As he looked out on the frosty waters, he wondered deep in thought about the strange paths of different Gods. Once upon a time, there had been a council to discuss different faiths. No, Sir Stout had not taken part in the meeting but it got him thinking about different faiths and their worship. With the power of his new found form, as the Avatar of Warmonger could he now be considered a god? Surely, the followers of the Horn Dog would acknowledge him as such, but through everything, Sir Stout was a loyal Dark Paladin of Morgoth. Things also definitely confused him, because he was born as a child of the Falosini and now he was their enemy. C’est La vie as the earthers say, it would be one of the many things he would have to figure out. Either way, Stout was definitely better than Sir Killian. Eh Sir Killian this, Sir Killian that, the thought disgusted him. And that cemented his decision, [OPTION C] he would become the best morgothians to the faith as well as settle his newly acquired appetite for flesh…mmm mmmm BBQ that’s good!


Willie looked aroundand thought to himself “How do I get into these situations, well I’ll just have to make the best of it”


One Eyed Willie had been proud of his status as an independent Illuminated Captain. His pirates served him because they wanted to, (and because they didn’t want to…take a walk…with him.)

But compared to the other illuminated who regularly treated their crew as slaves, One Eyed Willie actually rewarded his crew.

As a result his crew had been growing with defectors from other pirate vessels, until both Unix and Uiuilli had discovered him plying the pirate trade across the Unen coast.

They had demanded in a friendly way, that One Eyed Willie come and meet the new Lord of the Illuminated.

At first One Eye thought he would find a haughty Illuminated Pharoah that he would just…take for a walk and talk…and then replace. Instead he found them all being led by a Quall Dark Paladin, the first of which Willie had ever met.

The Quall seemed honorable, and gave his ship the same respect as the other Illuminated Pharoahs. Considering Willie wasn’t a Pharoah in the eyes of the other Illuminated, he knew keeping in the Quall Dark Paladin’s good graces would keep the other Sea Kings away from his fleet…

Watching the Quall roast those prisoners who vowed defiance, One Eye Willie was happy to at least know the type of Despot he was working with…


Sir Stout watched his twenty new Morgothian knights train for his amusement. A meal was set before him of the roasted prisoners, and he ate while his soldiers practiced.

At his side were the new Illuminated Captains and Pharoahs who came to the call of Warmonger’s Host.


Willie looked at the gathered hierarchy that he had been attempting to avoid and said “Honored Lord and Pharaoh’s it pleases me that I was invited to me you. How may this simple captain be of service my lord?” He says the last part intentionally not offering service to the Pharaohs.


Sir Stout had scraps of flesh stuck within the fur around, but what i really mean to say is about anywhere a morsel could have fallen from his mouth area. With his stout stature even as an almighty Quall Dark Paladin, his vile k’iou manners still reigned through. Licking at the juices left on his fingers, and trying to look presentable for him most honored guests as Sir Stout rose to his feet. He wrapped the Illuminated Captain in one of his new Quall arms, and took him for a stroll to observe his many new Morgothians train.

He flicked hims tongue around his mouth, cleaning out more loose remnants of flesh before spitting the leftovers out and then turning to talk as this were just a normal thing to do. He began, “These young recruits of mine will one day be the best and the brightest. I will soon need to be renaming them for their great services, go off in search of great honor. I would like them to have a head start in this quest, starting with you teaching them the ways of your leyas. We paladins mainly are equipped with skills in shadow as a way of our faith and responding to the nightmares at our control. You, dear Captain will give them the best training so that this honor comes quick and painlessly.”


“Ah, I see my lord.” Willie nodded.
He seemed lost in thought for a moment as he went over what he knew he and his crew could offer these men in the way of training.

(OOC I’m not even sure of my crew make upat the moment and I’m not sure Willie can train ppl he is a Bravo)


Looking out over the fleet, the pair could see hundreds of thousands of blue skinned Cambions, the thousands of Bestials, and the ten gathered Illuminated Pharoahs and their Illuminated consorts and their Illuminated children who would one day grow into Captains (Ikuz) and then Pharoahs (Kal) themselves. One of the Illuminated daughters of Unix Kal Hobtla Mag’ol stepped forward and bowed deeply to Stout and One Eye.

She said, "I am Unixah Ikuz Hobtla Mag’ol, and have lead many raids and taken many slaves. The white furs fear me, and my lash. But serving the Avatar of Warmonger is an even greater honor.

I wish to serve as a Knight in your order, My Lord Stout."


One Eye was unsure if he found Unixah incredibly hot, or just concerning deadly. He also suspected if she had her father’s fleet, she probably exceeded his own forces with her thousands of Cambion Slaves and hundreds of Bestials. But he also realized he had a tactical advantage. The “Avatar” of Warmonger had already recognized his authority as a Captain, and even declared he was to train the new knights.

If she was to be a knight, she could be his tool to impose his own personal programs on her army. After all he was apparently a Knight Captain, and she just a knight…in need of training. The real challenge to getting his training to stick, would be One Eye figuring out a way or method of disempowering her Bestials. Somehow he would have to do it without a simple purge as a purge would cause the other aristocrats to turn against him.


Weeks had past, and work had come back that the first scouting expeditions sent by Sir Stout had been competently smashed to bits by an unexpected storm. All hands lost, and rumor had it that two heroes from the Colonies, Grim the bastard, and Lurtor the Olgog had taken a single team of warriors and destroyed the vanguard fleet.

Sir Stout knew this would not do. He had to plan a mighty response, and called to his greatest advisors and their greatest advisors.

As a bountiful feast table was set, Lord Stout stood at the head. With Captain One Eye Willie at his right hand side.

At his left side sat Unixah Ikuz Hobtla Mag’ol, dressed now in the full plate of a Morgothian Knight as demanded by Sir Stout. Next to her were four seats, and four advisors standing behind the seats about to sit down. As they sat, Unixah would introduce them one after another.

The first was a tall Uthvelor dressed in the strange mesh armor the raiders wore out on the Nightmare Moors. Her hair was diamond yellow, and shaved into a tall mohawk. Her pointed ears were pierced with K’iorn bone, and she wore a silk demi-cape.

“My mighty Lord, this is Zey’na Mindspike, daughter of Warchief Zar’cos,” Unixah said, “She handles our diplomacy and orders down to the Mind Spikes and other Uthvelor Tribes who have heard the noble call of Warmonger.”


Zey’na bowed and then sat down, "Mighty Lord, we are pleased you are finally released again. As our master Gorsj prayed in the days of the K’ias Wars, let you be free to rule with the strength to make the weak tremble and cover.

I have one hundred Mind Spikes but an airship ride away. But once we were to show your might in action, I could convince the entire tribe to devote their resources to this war against your enemies."


Unixah pointed to the next advisor, a musclebound monster with a lion’s mouth for one hand, and a serpent’s mouth for the other. His face looked like he had once been a Pelebor of some beauty.

Unixah said, “This my lord, is the esteemed SkyCaptain Grizool Grizane of the Poison Claw Clan.”

The broken pelebor extended his black, bat-like wings in a stretch before sitting down.

Before saying a word, Grizool Grizane used his wing to knock a bottle of wine from a nearby waiter’s hands and downed it one gulp.

"Thank you mighty Lord for providing such a feast, and such drink! Truly the great days are here, as I dreamed when first hearing Lord Pelos preach the word of Warmonger. I have at my call 300 Poison Claw Suicide Troopers who will march into any battlefield and die for you in combat against any foe.

You just tell me if you want me converting the locals, or just bringing them back to you for what-nots."


Next was a human dressed in black robes of nightmare hide. His face was covered in surgical scars.

Unixah introduced him, “This is Wayward Lens of the Necromancers of the Sliver. Their love for you is well known and profound.”

The Necromancer sat without a word, then extended his hand. Lifting up his steak knife, he proceeded to lop off his entire pinky and place it upon his own plate.

He opened its mouth to speak, and that is when they noticed all his teeth had been surgically replaced with krato teeth, and his tongue with the tongue of a Rapion. One eye looked at them from the tip of that elongated tongue.

“Most great Lord upon high, Warmonger, darkest of dark things, and greatest of dangers to the human condition, I offer this, my finger, as just the first of the body parts the Necromancers of the Sliver will give to the return of Warmonger, true lord of all destruction.”

The finger began to move of its own accord, like some worm inching across the plate.

“The Necromancers can make whatever you would like Lord of all darkness from any flesh you provide us.”


Unixah said, “And last but not least, let me present, Neliff the Orthodox, who represents the New Yyan Empire and his own Neliff peoples.”

The Neliff was dressed in finest silks but still had a quality that simply offended all the room. It floated a few feet above the chair and then settled into, holding tightly with its tentacles, while it reached a small arm up towards a glass to raise a toast. It had to reach in a comical way until finally it had secured the glass.

"To the most mighty godking Warmonger, whose blessings were first foretold by Neliff the Prophet, then confirmed in the beautiful moment of one-ness with Neliff the HiveKing, and finally forgotten and dismissed by the fool and heretic Neliff the Radical.

The New Yyan Empire is being corrupted by the blapshemous teachings of Neliff the Radical. Moments from the Yyan and Neliff conquering the entire Goblin Lands, Neliff the Radical had us free the Goblin Lands, and even help them against a Mirror Crystal Invasion Fleet. We almost took it all for you my Lord and Neliff the Orthodox wants Neliff the Radical to die for this defamation of your great mission.

Trust Neliff the Orthodox to regain the New Yyan Empire for your worship. Right now I have myself Neliff the Orthodox and my twenty juveniles along with our forty Yyan Giant slaves. All devoted to your cause.

As the greatness of Warmonger is shown, Neliff the Orthodox can convince more undecided Neliff and Yyan to join the great banner that is yours!"


[After Glacial Wastes Finale and Post2220 Events]

Neliff the Orthodox, Zey’na Mindspike, Grizool Grizane, Wayward Lens of the Sliver, and Queen Unixah met aboard the vessel Tiordane’s Fame.

Neliff seemed the most perturbed, “Our entire point of being is now immaterrial. Neliff are filled with fear without the strong guiding hand of Warmonger.”

“That Quall Monster was neither the power nor the grace of Warmonger,” sneered Wayward Lens, “His blunt tactics and gross use of the Sea Kings army guaranteed our failure.”

Unixah spoke up, “Yes Sir Stout failed us all. But are you truly surprised? He wasted time here training our armies in Morgothianism instead of planning using our strengths. He forced us to confirm to a cult that had failed Warmonger in the past, so are we surprised it failed Warmonger again? Sir Stout may have carried Warmonger inside him, but he was but a prison to the great serpent, not its grandest general. And we are all the fools for believing in him, and his morgothian cult.”

“Blasphemy,” sneered Zey’na, “Worship of the Warmonger is without question.”

“And by not questioning,” said Unixah, "We were left aside as Sir Stout wasted our many, many forces.

Imagine for a moment if the grand attack had used all our forces to the fullest. The Poison Claw infecting the defenders and turning them to our side, Mind Spike raising up a perfumed army of cannon fodder, the Neliff confusing all ideas of the real and hallucination for the enemy, and the Sea Kings being the real hammer to crush their army.

Instead we were all heard in reserve, and the war was over before we could even strike…"


Zey’na said “I will purge all memories of the defeat from our soldiers. They will think our master has ascended rather than been destroyed.”

Neliff the Orthodox said, "A waste of time and effort. The Quall N’drone hordes know we have claimed this planet. They know Neliff the Radical controls much of the Colonies and Neliff the Orthodox control the rest.
And they know the Neliff are hidden here.

They will come in force. As they do already to the far continent. They will consume every host on this planet, and purge all knowledge of the Warmonger as they did at the end of the K’ias Wars.

Ten thousand years from now, and only a few myths about Sir Stout the Warmonger, a Rogue Quall HiveLord, will remain. And all knowledge of the Ancient Evils will be hidden again.

Zey’na Mindspike you would be better served helping to hide our allies from the Uth Seers."

Grizool Grizane interrupted, “Lord Pelos does not care for Warmonger now that Warmonger is dead. My master cares about power, and punishing Lord Azrael.”

“Drawing Azrael’s Uth and Pelebor down will quickly extinguish the light of my civilization,” said Unixah, “So if you must battle them, do so far from the Glacial Wastes. Find a place they desire, and make it happen there.”

“I know of just the place,” agreed Wayward Lens, “The ancient ones built a Flesh Weaving Factory, a place called the Tomb Factory of Holys. A battle for that location could be just the call to arms that would draw Lord Azrael to his doom.”

Neliff the Orthodox gave a most unsettling smile, “Lord Azrael will be the first, but not the last. Let us slay everyone of the Ascended Beings who think they are now safe with Warmonger’s destruction. Especially the Quall HiveQueens.”

Unixah saw how the driving curse of Warmonger still pushed his minions. She rose from the table and said, “I will not take part in any battle against the Uthvelor or the Pelebor. My kingdom is too small and too new, with too many enemies already surrounding us for me to pick fights with new ones.”

“Then take Tiordane and the rest of the Illuminated who betrayed Warmonger as your slaves, and build up your kingdom, Queen Unixah,” said Neliff the Orthodox, “Neliff the orthodox will lead this cadre against the Ascended Beings while you tend to your kingdom. But one day, Neliff the Orthodox will come with the remains of Warmonger’s army, Queen Unixah, and Neliff will expect your alliance…or we will take your people as our hosts.”

“I understand this, Great Neliff,” agreed Queen Unixah.

Hours later, Queen Unixah was aboard a wooden sloop on its way across the icy seas. Trussed up next to her was Tiordane, the Illuminated hero looking tormented and tortured.

“Why did you not have me executed?” whispered Tiordane.

“Because while that entire council could see nothing but War, you saw the truth that was obscured,” Queen Unixah said, “I may no longer serve the Warmonger, but I have an army and a kingdom that requires my rule. And you will help me make sure they are not wasted by another arrogant tyrant like Sir Stout.”

Tiordane sighed, “I don’t know if I can help you Unixah. You are a tyrant…”

“My people can choose to slave to the Warmonger Cult, or they could slave to Boriel I’tash. I will choose a different path,” said Queen Unixah, “And if I must carve that path by sword I will do so.”