The Terror of Dunesphere vs The Horror of Dunesphere (TS GL3 Pregame Week 1)


Ku’lal shook his large monstrous kolgul head, “Just remove the shardsss, why do we need devicesss to remove a few shardsss of stone? If the leyasss on the outside is healing then I will let you know with my death.”


“Warior, the issue is not the healing leyas but the unknown. Here is what we do know. 1 right now a General leyas storm is building with shadow leyas being mixed in. 2 A being from this group has seen a simular event that killed all who tried to stop the artifact. 3 We know the artifact is the Blood Cup, an artifact that grants its drinker immortality. 4 We kno leyas tends to react unpredictably when drawn enmass with no direction or conflicting directions. 5 Vampyrs, Bandits and other creatures like them extend their lives with shadow leyas. given these six facts, do you see why we hesitate to act. If you wish to sacrifice your life I will not stop you. I simply do not wish to see a great warior cut down before his time.” Scribe said his amythist looking right into Ku’lals.


Scribe pulled his eyes from the olgog to try and think when he spotted a strange rock formation. It was three standing stones, in the shape of bowling pins. Looking for a round stone or something similar, he looks to see if the tent was open.


Ku’ll would just shake his head. If it was general leyas he had no fear of it, in fact beyond the sweet crimson nectar of life and the dark energy of nightmare flesh it was one of the few things that could heal him. He was already dead, arguably he had truly died twice, and death held little sway in his decisions. He was immortal, and why scribe feared both dying and never dying he wouldn’t begin to contemplate. He didn’t care how the leyas reacted as long as he wasn’t destroyed so far the cruel bargains of extreme leas use favored him greatly. The fact vampers and bandits extended their life off the weak shadow leas of fear and loss didn’t concern him, once again why it frightened scribe was beyond him.

Ku’lal removed his cloak, nestled his dog tags inside it with his other possessions before wrapping them into a neat package. He reverted to his normal form, a wrinkled and scarred middle aged Unen Olgog with numerous vampyr tribal tattoos. “If I fail” he said in a deep voice, “make sure the militia receives my possessions.”

Ku’lal walked toward the tent bracing himself for the storm, his intent to pull the shards from the cup and and walk out with them.


Daron says "I will make sure the militia gets your stuff. I do not see any healing or light leyas, so I don’t think that will be of concern. "
Daron will be standing by with a grounding ward in prep to activate if the need arises.

(OOC Sorry its been a while. I just got back home.)


It was the traveling party’s moment of action, and then things came to a …“HALT! And take not another step most noble fallen one,” interrupted the upstart k’iorn child who was now standing on his own. He was just out of arms reach from his acting protectorate Uhryu Tyrone, the red wine still graced the edges of his mouth and the blackest fire lit his eyes with the mischief that only a newly turned vampyr would take pleasure in. One could see signs of his youth, not quite fully comfortable in his own skin being just over the five foot marker with gangly limbs and huge feet comparable to his size, the young k’iorn was in his awkward phase. But with everything physically happening to him, he walked with an air of someone that knew of his importance.

With all eyes now on him, he licked his lips at the anticiPATION and he turned to the massive olgog to speak, “Please allow me to introduce myself and add my two cents to the mix. I am K’ain,son of K’ain of the Tribe of the Sunset Ridge. Scion of the Broken Horn Tribe and the Line of O’nan Rass. Fallen Olgog, Kul’al if I am not mistaken, I do not know of your tribe or station, but we share something in common. We are now outcasts, abominations amongst our people. But even as abominations it is important to know your place in things. As a k’iorn, I am one of the many hands of the Falosini and will continue to do as they would see.”

At this point, he turned his attention to Scribe, “I believe the lil’ one has forgotten the ways and it would be our duty to remind him. If you will recall, the lil’ folk came about and were never formally named, all because they did not really matter, acting as the suicide shock troops of the Falosini forces. You see they have no sense of self preservation and as my father would say, their lives are forfeit from birth. So with this knowledge, I believe there should be nothing really stopping you from going forward with the task at hand and sparing the rest of us. WE all have important matters to take care of,” as even at this youthful point, he towered over the smaller Scribe. “And do not fear lil’ one, I am fairly certain nothing would happen. Your people have a nasty habit of returning from things like this, and I have seen it myself, you are very quick of hand. NOW GO, lil’ one!”


John considered the situation, and as he did so blood began to seep through a gash which opened itself in his palm. A small silver orb came free of John’s flesh, which quickly re-sealed. This was unfamiliar territory for him, to say the least, but he thought it best to prepare for whatever came next.

He placed the small orb above the ground; it floated a few feet above the dirt and little tendrils spread from it to pierce the earth below. They drew up mass and the small matter-weavers in the orb began to process that mass into construction nanites. John had a feeling he would be needing to make things very quickly if things went badly. He spoke as he prepared his construction swarm.

“Scribe, if you wish to follow Terror’s advice, my offer still stands. However, it seems that we have been delivered an elegant solution to this problem. Ku’Lal can likely disrupt the General Leyas flow which would, at the very least, burn you out. With that storm dealt with, Daron could ground the Shadow-Leyas reaction, which would be less likely to kill him. This would provide a small, but sufficient operational window wherein Scribe could dash in and separate the Cup from the Shards. I would make sure that everyone is protected. Is this acceptable?”


Daron says “I’m good with the plan. Lets do this.” as Daron preps his wards out of the effect so he doesn’t get burnt out.


Scribe had very few things that set him off. One of the primaries was the burning of books. Another was one of the Children of Falos, whether they fallow the traditional ways or not, ordering a bastard on a suicide task. It was not anything about this self preservation (whatever that was) thing. It was the assumption that these small beings, created with only the purpose of dying to save other troops, had nothing or no one to fight for. The very thought that they were nothing more then walking talking shields. So his mind was not clear as he lifted his sword. (A wooden cleaver practice sword with runes on the blade) and pointed it right at the young vampyr.

“Don’t go ordering me around child. I may be of the ‘lil ones’ but I have people and places waiting for me. Your arrogance will get you killed if you don’t watch your tongue.”


The young k’iorn was determined, giving the stealthy Scribe his full intimidating attention until he received a taste of his own medicine. Without warning the one known as John12 release some kind of earther mechanized attack. As the son of K’ain and S’saris of the Tribe of the Sunset Ridge, the Scion of the Broken Horn Tribe and of the Line of O’nan Rass, the child K’ain had been very well versed in the arts of leyas, how to use it, read it and know what an enemy was planning to do with it. Allowing his vision of relax, he could see the flows of the natural ambient leyas and then his gaze fell upon this swirl of unFalosly energies, another form of abomination on par with that of…dare he think of annihilation. This brought on the survivor upbringing bestowed to him by his family and tribe. Not really fully listening at this point, he shoved Scribe towards the earther’s attack, released his nnghai blades while backing away to see the best way of combating this particular attack. He backed so far away that he bumped in Ku’lal, partially using the massive olgog as a perch to gain the offensive higher ground and moving dangerous closer to the leyas storm happening around the tent. Now nearby Ku’lal, judging from his reaction this was not leyas meant to harm them. The young k’iorn whispered a sound of acknowledgement followed by ‘Excellent! When can I be taught that, and is that what he meant by TERROR?’


Being thrown into people did not hurt as much as the fact that he was compliantly ignored by this whelp. Turning around to confront the vampyr Scribe noticed the look of fear and desire in his eyes. Fallowing his gaze he found John12 and his silver sphere.

“Am I the only one who took stock of the fact that we are in a time before teach and leyas mixed? John put that thing away, you want to give the Oners a head start on it.” looking to K’ain he said

“If you have not figured it out we are not when we are supposed to be. Lets just say your Earther friend that Daron sliced up found some way to go back, and we are trying to deal with the consequences of him dragging us along. Now that that is out of the way.” Scribe kicked up a stone and channeled earth leyas through it till it had become disc shaped. He then took aim at the Blood cup and threw the disc at it, trying to knock the cup over and force the shards out.


Ku’lal nodded in agreement and moved ahead with his plan. There was a certain assurance in his stride that even silenced the K’iorn child, K’ain of the Sunset Ridge.

Ku’lal moved to the tent with a purposeful stride. He pulled aside the tent flap and entered seeing the bubbling mass of living flesh that pooled. He reached past it and shoved his hand deep into the chalice. The writhing flesh pulled at his flesh, but his hand would not be stopped until he touched the bits of the hobtor axe at the bottom of the Blood Cup.

The splinters found places in his skin, and he roared in pain. It was the pain of the living, and Ku’lal was confused, but the longer he waited the pain subided to his usual dead self.

There was a sound behind him, and he saw Death standing there. The strange power armored form pointed at the writhing mass of flesh on the floor, and then unloaded on the abomination with every weapon that studded the armor.

Daron was outside the tent holding up his strongest grounding ward. The Leyas storm washed hard against the ward, but the ward saved them all from a wild surge. Daron breathed a sigh of relief, but then the entire tent exploded. Smoke billowed up and the tent and its occupants were obscured for a good long moment.

A strung gust of wind pushed aside the smoke cloud revealing Death and Ku’lal. Death picked up the Blood Cup and handed it to the tiny one who would one day grow up into Terror.
His hollow voice said, " Give this to Saul the Wanderer, when he awakens, K’ain, and never speak of today with your father or anyone else"


Death flipped open the wrist section of his armored gauntlet, revealing a smaller Time Shredder device of a compact design. He rotated the gemstone dials until they clicked and he motioned for Ku’lal and the rest to approach.

He grabbed Terror by the shirt, showing the young man back with enough force to drive him back and out of the range of the device.

Death motioned for the boy to stay back and pressed a stud on the side. There was a flash of blue light and all found themselves gone from Dunesphere.

The boy who would become the Terror of Dunesphere remained, always remembering the strange time travelers who saved him from Mortis Leonin. Centuries later when he was a General in the EEF, the Terror once again faced that strange melange of technology and Leyas known as Technomancy.

It was a topic he studied vigorously and when he faced it on the fields of battle in the Northern Kingdoms it did change the outcome of battle after battle. When the Border Wars ended in this timeline, the Terror of Dunesphere became a master Technomagi. Instead of curing his vampyrism at the Citadel of Vir, as he did in our timeline, the Terror changed himself into a Clockwork Angel.

He rose to great prominence, breaking I’tash’s stranglehold over the slave nations of the Northern Kingdoms. The Terror of the Northern Kingdoms, as he was eventually called, crushed the invasion of the Iron Republic, but never did regain his soul, and eventually fell to become a servant of the ancient evil known as Xephon of the Sky.

Seeing the offshoot timeline, on the grand projector, Death sighed. He would have to go back and fix all that had been changed…but in saving the strange time travelers he knew he had found his own new agents.

[Daron, John-12, Scribe, Ku’lal gain My Time in Dunesphere… They may learn 1 skill at lvl 2 from the following list: Leyas Theory, Religion (Church of One), Leyas Recognition, Acting, Ettiquette. Post your choice to Here.

For not posting Uhryu Tyrone does not gain a reward for this thread]

Daron approached Ku’lal for his portion of the splinters , but quickly realized they weren’t on Refuge anymore.

[Kul Gul Rapi Family must Post here to decide if Ku’lal gives over any of the splinters]

Thread continued in The Red Planet, Alpha Dome


Ku’lal gives Daron a portion of the shards.