The Titans' Orb: Rising Storm

by Mister Horncastle

Prologue: Dark Skies

---

Raising his head, the demigod parted his mouth and tasted the nighttime air, drinking in the scent of blood, smoke, and anguish. Paired with yesterday’s fear-scent of the Royal Sisters, Nah’Lek was nearly overwhelmed by its deliciousness, and as he strode past the piles of mangled corpses around him, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of euphoria, something that was often foreign to him. Amongst the bodies were some of Nah’Lek’s minions, a group of insect-like creatures, native to this world, which he had bent to his will. Wholly consumed by dark magic, they feasted on the innocent dead, devouring their rotting flesh without a shred of emotion or remorse.

This planet hadn’t been ready for such an invasion, for even if the peaceful denizens of this world had been equipped for war, the sheer scale of Nah’Lek’s army was beyond imagination. One had to see it to believe. There had been no hope for these people, and as the Defiler’s legion laid siege to the last city, the lights on an entire sapient species went out.

“It is done.” a warrior spoke, approaching his ruler, “The Phaylings are no more, save for the prisoners.”

“Good.” Nah’Lek replied, “Do as you will with them, their kind possess no qualities that I desire.”

Nodding, the warrior marched off to inform his other superiors. Nah’Lek then left the battlefield, returning to the nearest war camp, which sat on a hilltop not far from the city. Upon seeing him, the masses of green-skinned warriors fell silent, bowing in equal parts fear and respect.

To the left and right of him stood forges, barracks, and other buildings created by his peons, built using the foundations of the native village that once stood there. These new structures were covered in spikes, fashioned from the sharpened bones of the soon-to-be-extinct Phaylings, and were all painted red with their blood. Continuing down the dirt path, Nah’Lek observed his growing army with pride, listening to the cries of newborns from the Wachook’s hut. He then reached the arena, where two of his warriors were fighting inside. It was not a graceful fight, for they were vicious and brutal, roaring loudly as they swung their axes at one another and blocked with their blood-splattered shields.

An axe met flesh, severing a hand and sending it hurling from the arena. It landed close to the Defiler, stopping him in his tracks. Taking an interest, he watched on as the now-mutilated warrior fought on, and instead of being hindered by such an injury, he was spurred by it. Flying into a blood-rage, he dropped his axe and launched himself at his opponent, taking him to the floor and punching him repeatedly with the bleeding stump where his hand had been mere seconds ago. The crowd cheered with excitement as the two creatures wrestled each other. With blood in his eyes, the blinded warrior could do little to retaliate as his one-handed opponent continued to pummel him to death, striking again and again until his skull caved in. To Nah’Lek’s satisfaction, the savagery didn’t stop, not until the deceased warrior’s head had been completely destroyed, leaving behind a sight best likened to that of an upturned stewpot, its mucilaginous contents spilling out across the floor.

These creatures had been bred for war, and although they had once been shamanistic and honour-bound, the urge to shed blood was now a part of their very nature, and thus were the perfect race for Nah’Lek’s army. Taking charge of them had been a simple task, all it took was challenging their Warchief, Blackhand the Destroyer, to one-on-one combat, a sacred duel in their culture known as the Mak’gora. Forcing Blackhand to yield, Nah’Lek spared his life, and promptly took hold of the greatest army known to creation.

The Orcish Horde.

With Blackhand now as his second-in-command, Nah’Lek promised the Horde a lifetime of glory, blood, and conquest, to which they eagerly followed him. Slaying all those who defied him, Nah’Lek processed the orcs, training them over generations to be loyal, merciless, and without fear. It amused him to think, these creatures had almost invaded his home world of Azeroth, where he had been hatched to a mighty brood up in the frozen lands of Northrend. However, such a fate was to be halted altogether, on that fateful day when the great Titan of Mass, Appelox, resonated with Nah’Lek, plucking him from his icy home and making him an offer.

The terms were simple, all he had to do was agree to find the Titans' Orb and destroy it, and in return, he would be made a god, an unstoppable force of unparalleled terror. The choice couldn’t have been easier, and so Nah’Lek was reforged and born anew, now imbued with the souls of the Holy Titans of Harmony.

Upholding his end of the bargain, he descended upon the world of Equus, where throughout his search for the Orb, he carried out a slaughter unlike any other. It was only when he was bested by the Titans’ Champion, a unicorn by the name of Stardust Moonshimmer, that he found himself in chains, incarcerated for his crimes. Sent to the lowest depths of Tartarus, the Defiler plotted his revenge for centuries untold, and when all had forgotten he even existed, he set his plan into motion.

Once free, and in possession of Hades’ staff, Nah’Lek gained dominion over not just the orcs, but over a substance so malevolent that it could corrupt even mana. On Equus, it was known as demon magic, but in truth, it went by a far simpler name.

The Fel.

Just as mana represented life, creation, and balance, the Fel was the manifestation of death, destruction, and disorder, serving as the very antithesis of mana. It was a brutal, sickening cosmic force, corrupting the mind, body, and soul of all who were exposed to it, warping them into beings known to all… as demons. Only individuals of great strength could harness it, of which Nah’Lek now was. Armed with this nefarious power, the Defiler possessed the ability to bend all to his will, and as such, the Horde became forever his to govern.

Moving on from the arena, he ascended a flight of stone steps, taking him above the war camp and allowing him to look upon the burning city below. For as far as the eye could see, there was fire, smoke, and chants of victory from his army. After all this waiting, his Horde was almost ready.

Almost sentimental, the Defiler ruminated for a while, before deciding to pay attention to his contingency plan. When he had shattered the Titans’ Orb and sent it to Earth, he had imbued the relic’s essence with a tinge of the Fel, along with a lingering spell of a most horrific nature.

A shade.

A non-corporeal duplicate of oneself, a shade could infiltrate the minds of others, perusing their memories, controlling their dreams, and influencing their behaviour, by way of whispering manipulative notions to them, under the mere guise of one’s subconscious. He had hoped to infect Princess Celestia with such a vile affliction, but upon muttering the incantation to resonate with it, he was met by a most interesting development indeed.

His shade dwelled within another, the Princess’s dear student no less.

Downloading the shade’s mind to his own, Nah’Lek was met with flashes of the Twilight Sparkle’s memories, and to his surprise, the pony was on Earth, in the company of a male human. His shade had done well, terrorising the unicorn on a nightly basis, and convincing her to loathe and fear the boy, but this had clearly not been enough. An image flashed before the Defiler, of not one, but two fragments of the Orb in Twilight’s possession. Twitching angrily, Nah’Lek’s eyes went from their usual purple, to that of a deep crimson. Though mostly enraged, there was another sensation, and one that Nah’Lek hadn’t felt before.

Fear.

If these ponies continued as they were, then there was a very real chance that this could have all been for nothing. With the Titans’ Orb recovered and repaired, the Horde would be rendered useless, and Nah’Lek would be forced to invade Equus alone. Though he nearly bested the Princesses before, there was every chance that a new Champion had since taken Stardust’s place, and if he were to be subdued again, he didn’t reckon they would merely resume his prison sentence. To lose would mean to die, and Nah’Lek refused to allow for such an outcome, for he himself was the living embodiment of death; how could he possibly allow anyone to kill death? No, something needed to be done about this.

Severing the connection to his shade, Nah’Lek returned to the war camp and sent word for his apprentice, the last red orc in existence, of whom he had chosen to train personally. It didn’t take him long to appear, shouldering his way past his green-skinned brethren.

“Master, you wished to see me?” he growled.

Stepping to the orc, Nah’Lek looked down upon him and tilted his head.

“I am leaving for a time, for there are matters I must tend to. I am taking Blackhand with me, along with your father. While I am gone, you are to take my place, acting as Warchief in my stead.”

Taking a knee, the orc shook his head.

“You honour me.”

“Honour has little to do with it.” Nah’Lek replied, “You are my finest warrior, even without the gift of the Fel, and as such, you are to keep these green-skins in line for me, and continue preparations.”

Rising to his feet, the red orc nodded, understanding the assignment.

“Where is it you are going?” he asked.

“That is none of your concern.” the Defiler snapped back, “Just know that upon my return, we will be ready.”

At this, the orc splayed his lips into a wicked toothy smile.

“So, we are finally to launch the invasion?”

Looking beyond his pupil, Nah’Lek drank the air once again, where he savoured the lingering remnants of the Princesses’ fright. Clicking his mandibles, he confirmed the query, making his proclamation known.

“Correct, Hellscream. Upon my return, the Horde shall descend upon the Titans’ world, and there will be no god, nor Champion, strong enough to stop us. Now, be gone with you.”

With his apprentice sent away, Nah’Lek prepared to travel to Earth, for there was still the matter of the human to deal with. Whoever this ‘Callum’ was, Nah’Lek thought, he was going to regret lending his assistance to Twilight and her mission. Once his two orcs were ready to leave, Nah’Lek withdrew Hades’ staff and opened the portal, where they embarked on a little mission of their own.

Just as Twilight’s Company were in search of the Titans’ Orb, Nah’lek was now in search of them.

The hunt had begun.

---