(Backstory: Shaddus has been missing Fain for a while, and finally found the courage to look for someone else to serve. He prayed to Thax not long after He showed up, and Thax responded first with a letter, and now with direct contact)
The acrid scent of smoke fills your nostrils as a distorted voice echoes in your mind, "Do you still seek Me, Shaddus?"
You say, "I do, Lord Machine, if You would have me."
A sudden thrumming fills the air as a vibrating Divine portal opens up directly before you, wavering madly before settling in the air, strange colours and pathways flowing beyond.
As you step into a vibrating Divine portal you are momentarily deafened by the thrumming of the portal, distracting you from the fact that you have just stepped out into nothingness, though this uneasy realisation has barely struck you before your legs are compelled to take another step, and you emerge through an identical portal.
Encased in metal.
Filling the air with a low-pitched thrum, a vibrating Divine portal floats here. Thax, the Machine looms here, wreathed in tendrils of acrid smoke. He wields a greatsword of serrated bone in each hand.
You see a single exit leading through a vibrating Divine portal.
You bow respectfully to Thax.
Gripping His throat, Thax, the Machine says, "You are a strange one, Shaddus."
A vibrating Divine portal begins to fluctuate, thrumming loudly for a moment before it is suddenly still, and then simply vanishes from existence.
You say, "Lord Masque said much of the same. He called me a fool at times, but understood my willingness to do whatever was required to please Him."
A hollow rattling reverberates around you as the Machine laughs.
Gripping His throat, Thax, the Machine says, "Many who have sought Me have done so because their abilities resonate with one of the Second Circle. I do not sense that same drive in you."
With a shake of his head, you say, "Not especially. While I enjoy combat and battle, I know that battle is not won simply by overwhelming numbers and wild swinging. Directing an army takes strategy,it takes focus and a mind for the long game, as it were."
Thax nods as metal grinds and squeals.
Gripping His throat, Thax, the Machine says, "I will not torture you as I did Shango. Instead I will place a greater burden upon you, Shaddus."
Shaddus bows his head respectfully. "Then may I succeed, or let it crush me under its weight. How may I serve?"
Gripping His throat, Thax, the Machine says, "My army will be made of many soldiers in need of direction and spiritual guidance of the sort that I do not have the patience to provide. It must be your responsibility to teach and spread My ideals using wits instead of blades, to administer, and to generally not be a slackwit."
Gripping His throat, Thax, the Machine says, "I did not come to Magnagora simply to feed the bloodlust of the fleshbound which reside there. There is more that I offer than blood and glory, and you must keep this before those to thick to see beyond the end of their warhammer."
A wry smile spreads across your face.
You say, "This will not be a problem, within reason. So long as You don't take issue with it, I'll work on the things You don't find interesting, to flesh out Your order's presence in the city and the First World."
Thax, the Machine says, "I am a kinder Master than Fain, but I am certain my fleshbound soldiers will test you in ways that I could not."
Thax laughs in an eruption of grinding metal.
You say, "It will be refreshing to be in an order in which backstabbing is not the norm. I will work to see that those who serve You are kept in line."
You say, "Or at least, educated as to Your will."
Shaddus taps his chin, deep in thought.
Gripping His throat, Thax, the Machine says, "Do you want time to pray to Fain? I am of two minds on whether a prayer will do you much good in His eyes."
Grimacing, you say, "I have already prayed to Him long ago. I do not doubt that upon His return, my flesh will be sliced thinly while I watch and used to wallpaper His throneroom."
You grunt noncommitally.
You say, "Only a fool worries about the price of transformation and growth."
Thax nods in agreement.
You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.
Heaving a heavy sigh, you callously renounce the patronage of Fain, of the Red Masque.
Thax baptises you into the Broken Blades of the Divine Order of Thax, the Machine.
Everiine said: The reason population is low isn't because there are too many orgs. It's because so many facets of the game are outright broken and protected by those who benefit from it being that way. An overabundance of gimmicks (including game-breaking ones), artifacts that destroy any concept of balance, blatant pay-to-win features, and an obsession with convenience that makes few things actually worthwhile all contribute to the game's sad decline.
Comments
(Order): Thax says, "Come leave your mask upon My altar, Shaddus. That part of your life is gone now."