GARGOYLES] GARGOYLES- 70 points
LORDS: 0% HEROES: 0% CORE: 0% SPECIAL: 100% RARE: 0%
TOTAL: 70 points.
Nothingness. This was often the experience had by the creatures that inhabit the Court of the Covenant, those who are responsible to keep the peace in the neutral territory of the gods. A place where physical beings could never venture, where the mind and will are the only reality. Even amongst the Gods of Chaos, something must exist to control the uncontrolled. Here, it is the Lord of the Abyst, the keeper of the covenant. No one knows why, or how, but it simply is. The Gods will always remain neutral at the court, never engaging in hostile acts upon one another. A place where agreements can be made, alliances molded, and plans made. Mostly, nothingness.
But on this day, Abyst could sense that a balance in the world was off, something or someone was not following the rules, something was happening that would change the world forever. Suddenly, the court was full of smells of death and decay, disease and pestilence. It was not unexpected that Nurgle Plaguefather would be the first to arrive, as was his way. Soon, these smells were replaced by perfume and sweat, a feeling of nostalgia and wanting. It was always a means of humility to Abyst that these Gods could make him feel things, even as powerful as he himself was. One of the few Demon Lords that existed who owed allegiance to none, to none but the Court itself. The slender and pale skinned Slaanesh, the Dark Prince, entered, to take his seat beside the great unclean one. Neither said a word, both simply waiting in silence for the remainder of the Gods to arrive. Suddenly the feelings of lust and longing were replaced by rage, a complete and consuming urge to kill, to destroy something, anything. Khorne, the blood god, the god of war and destruction, arrived to his throne beside the other two. The quiet contemplation the other two engaged in was far from the atmosphere now, the skull collector demanding to know where the fourth was. What seemed an eternity passed, although in this realm time was meaningless. “Where is he?” Khorne again demanded, the rage inside of him noticeably building. “I will play this game no longer!” As Khorne began to rise, laughter came from the throne of the trickster, and suddenly the seat was occupied by Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways and Weaver of Fates. “I have been here for some time brother; you just did not see me! Now, why have we all been summoned to the Court? I have important things to attend to!”
The Lord of the Abyst approached the table from the shadows. His place was to stand; no seat existed for him in this place. His duty was to facilitate, and communicate the messages that he often received for the Gods to deliberate over. “Fathers, something in this world has changed. Something that threatens our very existence.” With this message, the Gods began to plan.