A Star Killer's Nation

[Guyton]

Doomed with the hope faith would supply the fruits to vanquish the lust for fortune. It'€™s first Lord Marshal granted his blessings for a new future for his world enders by turning them into star killers. Faith replaced all currency, and service built the foundation for the pillars of a fanatic empire. They are the race that will convert, or kill every human life in its way. There are no originals. Every Necromonger alive today is nothing more than a convert saved from narrow minded views built by their races. Following the guidance given by the one who rulers them, the Lord Marshal.


Hiding under the cover of what appears to be a dieing star gliding across the sky. The Necromongers have visited countless worlds. A twisted evil defeated only by their ability to find their heaven known only as the UnderVerse. Before one becomes Lord Marshal the Necromonger must leave the world known and venture into the darkness. Only when life leaves the eyes to welcome death with eternity might the Lord Marshal find strength to lead Hell'€™s armada. With countless souls willingly to sacrifice themselves to pass this test created for gods. There have only been eleven lords to ever rule.


As technology progressed these Necromongers discovered news ways to travel to distant systems even quicker. Above all others one particular sector in space caught the eye of the Lord Marshal'€™s Purifier Apollo. Extremely large thrust trails left behind by starships traveling from a system corrupted by a black hole, to a fresh colorful one thousands of light years away. Apollo called this collection sector Ariellia while intercepted transmissions from alien starships called this heaven, Sirius. After burning the last remnants on the planet Kronus and adopting new converts the Lord Marshal had his gaze obsessed with Sirius.


The first alien contact was with a large armada on the most farthest from all others. They called themselves the Coalition. Lost remnants from a blue world destroyed by its own sun during the mist of a civil war. It was proof to the Lord Marshal they were nothing more than lost survivors waiting for destiny to unit them with a new faith. They surrendered. Few others fled in the hopes to rebuild a lost nation raped through time. The search continued.

---

Discovery Freelancer [9.5 Years]