Role

Chapter 1

The calm silence of My Lords sanctum continues to be My only source of
peace and solitude. Free from both the ravagings of the primitive, and
the Conquest of My Empire. True, I have come to enjoy the screams and
muffled breaths as Our enemies are slain. However, there is still much
to be done that does not require the use of mundane weaponry, nor the
subtilty of vehement supplications.

Peace and solitude was brought to an abrupt end as thousands of golden
hornets swarmed up into the Throne room from the bowels of the Church. I
was barely able to catch Myself upon the golden Throne before being taken
by unconsciousness.

... Blackness...

... Soft illumination accompanies a malignant presense...

'You have done well, Khrathtyn Din'sarthalas. You have lived to My every
expectation' rasped a voice from behind. 'I must admit, I have been rather
impressed with your success' the voice continued.

Turning, I was met with the source of the presense. Shrouded in black robes
of ethereal silk, a dark-elven male glared down at me. Arms folded at the
chest, His piercing glare set my soul aflame. Bending over, He opened His
mouth and wretched a swarm of golden hornets before spitting a mouthful of
blood to the hive floor.

Slowly re-gaining His posture, He wiped blood from His thin lips using the
sleeves of His robes. Withered arms and hands raised high above His head,
wide-spread, palms facing toward the heavens as if supporting something
massive. His eyes flared a deep crimson as the space above was engulphed in
flame.

Waves of intense heat pounded against My fragile body searing skin and bone.
Excrutiating pain ravaged my insides with every breath. Forced to my knees,
I could only look up in amazement. What had once been flame, had solidified
into the burnished sigil of the Imperial Codex.

A wry smile crossed the thin lips of My Lord, Khasotholas. Raising His head,
He opened His mouth and once again wretched a shroud of golden hornets. Upon
swift wings they swarmed around the sigil. Defending it as if it were their
queen.

'I have chosen you to be My vessel. To take the Throne as Emperor of Thera.
To subject My Will upon those who would name themselves Imperials, and My
Wrath upon your opposition' He rasped. With a withered hand, He gestured
toward the sigil floating above Him. 'When you have proven your worth to Me,
you will be summoned and I will burn into your flesh the mark of "The Imperial
Codex Swarmed by Golden Hornets".

Coughing violently, He bent over and vomited a mouthful of blood. 'Now go,
My priest. There is still much to be done. Now go, My "Herald of Divine
Conquest".'

... Blackness...