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Empress Menaka Sangvari Verakesh Sul-Artha,

With all due respect, you shall do no such thing. Your powers are null and void ((*ba dum tss!*)) here. The wards and enchantments placed around the Manor are far older than even you - born of the sacred wisdom handed down to the very first *Martyrs of Vanguard* - by the very *Gods* who sought to oppose the Void in all its terrifying glory. A group of Sentinels - loyal mortal souls conscripted in service to the Black Order - will escort you to your quarters in the depths of the Manor's subterranean stronghold.

Black Rose Manor is quaint, true, but it is simply  front for the far greater complex hidden beneath its soil - carved from a natural cavern that once served as this region's source of vital water. Its unique mosses and fungi are useful in concocting all manner of salve and potion, its water could quench the thirst of every mortal in Arrakesh, and perhaps greatest of all - its thick stone walls provide natural shielding from the Void's damning influence and shelters its inhabitants from the outside world. There, in the darkest depths of Arrakesh's rich subterranean world, is where your new home shall be. It is not without a certain charm, I must say. Bio-engineered luminescent fungi and lichen provide the light necessary for day-to-day operation, as well as a plentiful source of renewable sustenance. In the passage of countless ages, certain creatures have adapted to a harsh life in the cavern's relative darkness - creatures we have since domesticated. Though many such beasts have been rendered blind by a life in eternal darkness, their sense of hearing and smell is incomparable. They shall provide the meat, yarn, horn, and bone necessary for construction. Without the need for external walls to shield us from the elements, we may live plentifully with the barest of vital supplies. Weapons, tools, and armor may be forged from these naturally-occurring renewable elements as we see fit. Thus we have food, water, and raw materials all contained within a single subterranean superstructure - a perfect environment in which to house the Black Order's primary Stronghold. I am strangely thankful to the foolish adventurer who fell to his death through a previously undiscovered magma tube - one of countless tendrils snaking forth from the heart of a dormant volcano hidden beneath the vibrant forests of Arrakesh. The cavern serves yet another vital purpose - one which we shall discuss when the time is upon us.

Before you descend into your new home, I ask that you voice any concerns you may have. The cavern's solid structure tends to interfere with our wondrous  Stones, lending to some relative difficulty in communicating with the outside world. That is also to our benefit, of course. Unbeknownst to many, certain magicks allow a First One to be traced via the Stone Network, pinpointing their precise location so long as they are in contact with their ilk. Thus, even the Void is incapable of detecting our presence so deep beneath the surface of our world.

Watch your head, now. Descent is quite the adventure. My servants have carved a rudimentary stone staircase from the initially-slight decline - though it both steepens and narrows the further you descend. Eventually, you will climb your way down a seemingly-endless ladder, until the magma tube levels and its angle becomes gentle once more. At that point you could quite literally *slide* down the remaining length before landing softly in what we call the Womb - a smooth, pocketed sphere of relatively-soft volcanic ejecta called *Tuff* - comprised primarily of compacted ash. The Womb serves as the true gateway to the Black Order's subterran stronghold.

Admire it while you can, for it may be the first and last time you look upon its sleek circumference. *Welcome to your new home.*

" *The Voidspawn are a grotesque crime against nature's order, a collection of vile beasts bellowing forth from the pits of damnation to swallow the light of our kind. They and their brethren have lain dormant for countless ages, slumbering deep within the fell dungeons and forsaken crypts of our world. The Voidspawn feed upon the living, deriving their strength from the divine blood of Men  - their hunger eternal. Mortals affected by the plague become near-mindless husks; aggressive, resilient berzerkers that seek living scent and sound, longing for the flesh of the living. Despite their supposed lack of intelligence and shambling gait, they swiftly coalesce into raging hordes. These Mortal Husks are only the first among many... The true horror is what befalls the First Ones they "assimilate." Once-loyal nobles become crazed beasts, destroying everything they once sought to protect. Murdering their own families, setting villages ablaze, and feasting upon the flesh of their own kind. The become more than savage beasts - charged by the embodiment of evil. Imagine the strength of a powerful First One, then multiply that tenfold? That is the potential danger we may face. Newly-turned victims are quite weak and easy to defeat, but where the Void festers - it grows in strength. If we allow these monstrosities to mature, we will need far more than a few scattered patrols to shelter us from the maelstrom to follow.

These Voidspawn hordes are merely a gentle breeze in comparison to the storm that will rise in their wake. They are but thralls - mindless peasants to their kind. There is far more power and complexity to their ranks than first may seem... All too content with our misconception that they are meager in strength. I doubt this continent has ever faced such a thing! My people still recount the legends and horrors of our brush with the Voidspawn and their darker cousins, as if those days had passed by recently. We are taught to recognize the signs of infection in childhood, and the necessity of carrying a dagger at all times. Do you understand the fear of a child - terrorized by the possibility of killing their own family to save an entire village?

My people - the Auru'in -  never forgot the Great Sundering. Vast swathes of our sacred lands lay barren, once vibrant soil charred gray-black by the purple flames that followed the plague. Most of our territory lies useless, never to be reclaimed. Fallow to all but death. Twisted beasts still hide within the jungles and caves of timeless Akh'vaar, a wild place Men have never truly conquered. The entirety of vital Akhva'ar was abandoned after the Great Sundering. Every attempt to found a settlement met bloody end at the hands of the jungle's denizens. The very animals possess a keen intelligence and merciless hunger, stalking the swiftest hunters with ease. The very jungle came to life, powerful vines groping and grasping at the pillars that held up each construct. The earth shifted as monstrous roots poured forth, tendrils of earthly might given sentience. The very land became toxic, everything and everyone within succumbing to madness, disease, and death. We still regularly sight Voidspawn encampments and scouts on the outskirts of that blasted jungle, with no telling how many live within. Now imagine their combined might, spread across the vast realms of this world? Bubbling forth from the deepest pits of the earth? Marching out of cavern and crypt alike, awakened by some imperceptible daemon piping? Imagine if these small outbreaks are the harbinger of a great pandemic to come, a black tide poured forth from darkest abyss?

As for the fate of our kind... There are a handful who survived the Black Ages: ancient First Ones driven mad by the horrors they faced. Driven by a constant fear of what may one day rise again. Some were tainted by darkness while they slumbered through the ages. Some were captured and assimilated by force, while others gave themselves willingly to be spared from the coming apocalypse. They are not entirely First Ones, anymore - veiled by unnatural shadows that fail to reflect a true form. These beings are a danger to us all, and many lay dormant in caves and crypts across the world = biding their time until the forces of the Void truly awaken. Their power is incredible, senses honed beyond our limits: dormant, inhuman agents of the dark force that walked our surface long ago. And that merely scratches the surface. These Voidspawn? They are but infants. I do not wish you to discover what they mature into... So I must say: please, if you value the safety and survival of your people, heed my words: true evil has yet to rise.* "-

Not necessarily true, Lady [c:3891]. The power of our blood has been heavily diluted over the many ages since our empresses' time. In addition, there are certain things our generation has since forgotten regarding the nature of the Void... Their very creation, for one. Tell me, honestly, where do you believe the Voidspawn originate? I can tell you, if you so desire...

[c:3827]... Quite simply, our extinction. The enslavement of every living mind, the shackling of every mortal shell, the pillaging of every settlement, the end of our reality. Our return to the eternal darkness from which the Void was spawned, before divine light first burst to propagate throughout the abyss of timelessness. You see, contrary to our beliefs, the Void came before the light of creation. The Gods filled the vast expanse of the formless Void with consciousness and creation... Yet the Void had already spawned a consciousness of its own creation. As light burst through the expanse, this rudimentary mind slumbered in the pits and crevices of existence - until a time when it could once again spawn a consciousness of its own. When Mortals and First Ones came into existence, the Void re-awakened... Yet in the meager shadows left behind in the expansion of divine light, it could find no repose - no medium through which to re-create its shadow-mind. In whatever primordial pseudo-emotions such an ethereal consciousness may contain, it discovered it could manipulate these creatures of light - twisting, tainting, consuming them until all that remained was the Void within their minds. We are those creatures, my friend. The longer it fights, the stronger it becomes - as we grow weak each passing day. Deviating further and further from the light of the divine, until we eventually become little more than the mere Mortals we so often look down upon. Diluting the divine essence that pours through our veins, generation after generation, until we are but a shadow of the Firstborn Sons of Divine Light and the Song of Creation echoed within our veins, our minds, our souls.

In the end, the Void wishes simply to reclaim its birthright - the tranquility of formless abyss in the absence of eternal light. It wishes to banish our Gods by denying them sustenance - the blood and mind of their First One children and the vital currency of our faith. With the extinction of our kind, our Gods shall bleed away their divine essence until naught remains but the formless Void of our darkest origin. The nothingness from whence we came.

* "When darkness falls from mortal view, the Eyes of Man perceive no longer; Shadows cast - through ages past - the birth of Black Redemption. The screaming souls of Men betrayed, depravity of lesser days, Ancestral Sin will coalesce - A Rising Star set world ablaze."

"The pride and greed of Firstborn creed, shall bring forth Three Great Wars - decreed; To render mortal man extinct, Surrendering all bonds distinct."

"When Firstborn become all and One, The tapestry shall be undone; The Spiral strings of Fate unwound, The Final Days of Life unbound." *

Lysandra takes her seat at the head of the table, taking great care not to disturb the contents of the midnight cloth just beyond her anxious fingertips. With a strange amalgam of fear and pride, she addresses her companions.

" *Welcome, Brothers and Sisters, to a gathering of the infinitely curious. I trust you have heard the rumors from up north, where nightmare beasts rise from beyond the realm of death. Let me take this opportunity to properly introduce myself, seeing as the guise of a foolish, adventurous little girl can only last so long.

I am Lysandra Gault-Moore, Speaker for the Order of the Black Star and its numerous chapters. I am but one of many: entrusted with the honor of recruiting able-bodied and strong-minded warriors, diplomats, merchants, and assassins. Our goal is quite simple: to serve as the vanguard of Humanity in times of great distress. I was dispatched to Arrakesh, taking advantage of the migrant influx, to assess the strength of a rumored Voidblight outbreak. They spread like a disease, afflicting mortal men with plague-like symptoms: it begins with the onset of a mild fever, followed by isolated bouts of pustular rash. Dizziness and stomach pain as well - all the usual signs of a boring flu's seasonal passage. The host goes through the motions: stomaching salve and poultice, visiting a local healer. At times the blessing of a priest. When fever dies down; rashes dry; pustules pop; and sores retreat; initial sickness subsides and the true plague awakens.

After a week or two of seemingly-stable health, fading wounds grow necrotic; fever returns with disheartening vengeance; slight disorientation becomes utter debilitation; and finally, death bears its final kiss. Too late do they realize this is no standard plague. "pile up or bury the dead and hope it doesn't spread" is no longer a viable tactic: the infected must be burned to a fine ash, sanctified by men of the cloth, and scattered upon the ocean, whereupon natural forces should neutralize the disease. If the bodies are buried or simply left to rot, the plague will spread through vermin and flora. The initial wave of new infection often accompanies the excrement and bite of Afflicted rats, supplemented by tainted water and contaminated granaries. Markets become veritable breeding grounds for the incessant march of plague, as afflicted livestock and crop bring disease to surrounding regions. I have seen cases where a merchant or tailor inadvertently spreads infection through the sale of blighted leather or contaminated fabric. Can you imagine the might of a plague capable of propagating through the purchase of a new pair of leather work gloves, a simple cotton tablecloth, or silk bed-sheets? A mere dozen recovered hosts give way to an explosion of Voidblight infection, each settlement the new Ground Zero from which it propagates at frightening velocity. The resilience of infected agents soon blight the halls of nobility: leading to the infection of a First One. That's when things become dangerous.

A First One goes through a similar period of minor sickness, but the following incubation period can last from a mere day to the passing of seasons. When the second wave strikes, the symptoms are once again mild. This is no short-lived secondary infection: the weeks wear on only to find the sickness has yet to abate. The final onslaught comes suddenly, yet as vigorously as that of mortal men. Soon, the final breath fades in anguished exhalation, and the body is prepared for its local funerary rites. Those gathered in celebration and mourning of their passage later find themselves afflicted by a minor cold or flu, or the tidings of slumberblight. Yet another season passes before the first symptoms arise. Thus the disease reaches endemic state.

Forgive any insult, threat, or disrespect you may mistakenly perceive in this mere scenario: any such thing is entirely unintentional and downright ridiculous. After all, an effective example must strike at the heart of Man.  Imagine if Prince Vendaran were to purchase a cask of Northern wine, or a bolt of exotic cloth. The Grand Moot would serve to infect the entirety of the Hall of Wyverns, and subsequently Arrakesh. The onset of Voidblight would spread unnoticed for many months, perhaps a few years, before the rise of the first Voidspawn. By that point, the Southern Convocation and its neighbors would be utterly infected by wave after exhausting wave of debilitating disease. Veterans of Voidspawn combat would they themselves lie sick, their First One lieges likewise assaulted. And so it would spread: until the entire continent musters one final cleansing, 0r we fall as one.

My people, the Auru'in, are fortunate: their kingdoms lie upon the ocean, distributed throughout an archipelago. It is far less disastrous and cruel to isolate trade from a quarantined island, than it is to close all borders and order your guards to kill on sight - then burn the corpses in preparation for the local priest's solemn duties, as has oft been done throughout history. It is exceedingly rare that Voidblight actually manifests into Voidspawn - soulless husks of diseased flesh that have lost all sense of reason. Fatal victims of the Blight reanimate if they fail to be incinerated. Such is the true reason why many cultures burn their dead. Often, an island or minor continent eliminates the blight after a lengthy, drawn-out quarantine and innumerable deaths. Larger landmasses face a particularly nasty threat due to their inherent disability from proper isolation, seeing as how plague-rats can scurry past well-armed watchmen with effortless ease.

There is more to tell for those who wish to know the technical intricacies, weaknesses, strengths, and complexities of the disease form itself. The Order employs healers, shaman, priests, craftsmen, merchants, diplomats, warriors, and even bards - anything and everything that can aid in the fight against an unconventionally dangerous adversary such as this.

Now that you better understand the threat, you must know the true enemy.* "

In a single rapid motion, Lysandra unlatches her black leather satchel to extract a minuscule vial of blood - which she places beside the midnight cloth ensemble. For a moment you imagine a nearly imperceptible shiver emanating from within, yet write it off as a mere trick-effect of imaginative storytelling. Deftly unrolling the cylindrical mass of strangely pulsating cloth, all are astounded to find a putrid severed hand within its midnight fold. Damaged, rotting fingers slowly drum a soundless tune as the hideous artifact inches forward.

"*Observe the severed appendage of a recently-deceased mortal man. It was... Hand-delivered to me by a loyal Ascalonian merchant who owed my family a favor. Witness its sluggish movement, dead flesh withered by starvation - yet it moves nonetheless. Imagine a horde of such creatures, wielding sword and bow, refusing to fall no matter how many times you pierce the flesh? Multiply that a thousandfold: ten-thousand fold. Imagine a sea of the Undying, shoulder to shoulder upon the horizon. Men that do not die. Who rise to fight again while the living lay bloodied and exhausted. Who must be vivisected and burned to truly ever stop. A tsunami of rotting flesh no mortal army could possibly stand against. That is the true threat we face.

This hand was removed by an Ascalonian soldier some months ago, on a routine patrol along the Erstes border. A lone, malnourished Voidspawn was spotted wandering near the shores of the river Beal's Journey, only to be discovered and captured near the current site of the Voidspawn outbreak. Am I the only one who finds this incredibly suspicious? The nearby mountain chain is peppered by entrances to countless caves, many of which whose depths have never been probed. I believe this mountain may hold the true origin of the infection: a fabled Voidwalker. These ancient infected First Ones underwent a ghastly metamorphosis throughout the march of ages past: culminating in the coherent, highly intelligent, and ruthless monstrosity whose singular existence rides on the consumption and enslavement of the living. Long before the outbreak became apparent, I am sure the locals were reporting missing foragers, scouts, and curious children. The first victims - dragged back to the dark caves and devoured - or worse.

...And if there is truly a Voidwalker, then invasion is only a matter of time. When the pheromone-covered thralls of a reawakened Voidwalker make their way underground, the true threat awakens. Legions upon legions of ancient warriors who have slumbered in death for millenia, their ranks replenished and bolstered by the conquests of each subsequent outbreak. We've never successfully traced the source, as no one has yet survived following Voidspawn back to their Point of Origin...

Blackguard:
The Blackguard are comprised of loyal souls who have sworn fealty unto the Black Order, yet have elected nor to - or been denied - entry into the Martyrs of Vanguard. The Blackguard are the Order's warrior caste, charged with ensuring the safety of Chapterhouses, Contributor / Partner nations, and provide the majority of the Order's military might.

holder: Proteus Wyvernknight manage position - appoint officials

Matriarch:
The Matriarch is the female ruler of the Black Order - charged with overseeing Order activities on a global scale. Through holy communion with the Gods of Man - overseen by the Aruspex Imperatori - the Matriarch enacts divine will and adheres to the Edicts of the Black Code of the Divine Dictum entrusted unto the First Martyrs of Vanguard who founded the Order of the Black Star prior to the God Wars.

holder: Lysandra Gault-Moore of the Black Order manage position - appoint officials

Aruspex Imperatori:
The Aruspex Imperatori is the Prophet and Speaker of the Black Order. They are charged with holy communion with the many Gods of Man, and oversee the activities of the arcane and spiritual branches of the Order, such as the Ordos Maleficus. The Aruspex holds incredible power and is a man that must be rightfully feared and respected.
holders: nobody manage position - appoint officials

Quiescent Soul
The Quiescent Souls are those who have fallen to Slumberblight, yet remain as honored members of the Black Order. The Order does not forsake its own, protecting them throughout their slumber. When the time comes for mind to reawaken, they shall be welcomed back into the fold.
holders: nobody manage position - appoint officials

Ordos Maleficus
The *Ordos Maleficus* (Order of Magi) is the arcane branch of the Black Order: led by the *Aruspex-Imperatori*. (Prophet-Commander) The *Ordos Maleficus* is charged with overseeing the rituals, wards, and enchantments required by the Order's campaign against evil. Among its ranks are the alchemists, enchanters, sorcerers, healers, and seers of the Black Order. ((Placeholder position: must make specific titles for each sub-type later, just putting this here so I don't forget the name I gave the magical order and its leader.))

holders: nobody manage position - appoint officials

The Martyrs of Vanguard:
The Vanguard - clad in midnight 'mail adorned with the angular runic enchantments and Spiraling Wyvern amulet of the ancient Auru'in Aarkhonians - are the Black Order's elite fighting force: drawn from the mightiest warriors the world has ever known. Forged in the amalgam of inert Voidblight essence and ancient magicks - from a time when Gods yet walked the earth - the demi-godlike Vanguard have honed skills and senses long thought lost to the archaic ancients and their pagan rituals. Mystery shrouds their creation and purpose, such closely-guarded secrets known only to the highest ranks of the Black Order. Mortals bow, avert their eyes, and cower in their presence: overcome by fear, admiration, curiosity, and the knowledge that a single gauntleted fist can shatter a grown man's skull. Loathing haunts their every step as death reigns in the wake of the Vanguard Martyrs - their lives forfeit from the very start. Occasionally, relics of ancient Vanguard are discovered in dungeons, wilderness, caverns, and ruins. A single Vanguard gauntlet is a rumored sign that a Black Order outpost or secret cache lies somewhere nearby. Incredible wealth and power stands to be gained by those who assist the Order in their discovery! Wielding a Vanguard relic imbues its host with the very same magicks that spawned its creator - gradually and irrevocably transforming the wielder into a Vanguard of the Black Order. If they do not hurry to a Black Order Chapterhouse, unchecked evolution shall quickly grow unbearable - as mortal shell and fragile minds collapse beneath the weight of power meant for a God. Only the blessing and orientation of the Black Order ensures newborn Vanguard learn to control the incredible abilities granted by the alien hybridization of Man and Void. ((OOC: Like the Void, the Vanguard are another way to introduce yourself to the Black Order RP. For those who've played Dragon Age, the Vanguard are effectively Gray Wardens. There is a metric ton of lore surrounding the Vanguard, so join us and find out what you're missing!))
holder: Lysandra Gault-Moore of the Black Order manage position - appoint officials

Duke / Duchess:

Legally-bound to its host-realm, the title of Duke / Duchess is the governing rank of the Black Order of Arrakesh. The governor of a Black Order Chapter is typically a member of the Order by-proxy, though there may be times when it is temporarily held in-trust for the Order.
holder: Lysandra Gault-Moore of the Black Order