The stars. These beautiful balls of fire that shine bright upon my empire.
What a moment, as I look out and see this universe in the palm of my hand. Billions of lesser beings praising my glory, my mercy, for letting them wake up this day.
The old republic couldn’t stand any longer. It had rotted to the very core, it needed to be excised. Removed so that life could once again grow.
They called me a monster, but I did what had to be done. The rebels had to be crushed and made an example of, to discourage any idea of freedom. The toxic belief that they had the power to do as they wish. It led to nothing but decay. They existed in a state of death before I came with my Deathknights.
They just hadn’t realized it yet.
Now I hear the cries of billions of lives, exalting my benevolence and mercy. Billions of lives across billions of star systems. All crying for the name…
ZAGORTHOR!
But yet, there are planets that refuse to bend. Refuse to accept their new status quo. Despite my kindnesses. Despite all I’ve done for them, they refuse.
Despite the examples I’ve made, they still believe in the leaders of the Old Republic. The old ways, the ways that made it possible for me to so easily conquer everything I saw here.
So, I go to them, my Knights in tow, and lay waste to their planet. They do not wish to be subjugated, then they will perish.
No glorious hammers.
No dreams of a bright future.
No, just an empty world. Like so many others.
Their heads placed on the pikes of my warship, a display to remind these people who the master of the galaxy really is.
Even outsiders know to avoid my realm for risk of becoming a slave to a war machine. As my power grows, the empire grows.
This universe, this entire reality, will bow down before the might of Zagorthor the Conqueror!
Zagorthor the Mighty!
My name will make even the mightiest of gods shutter. They should know that I come for them as well, all will be subjugated. All will bow before me, before my Deathknights.
Qoort was just the beginning. I desire more, I require more.
And they shall come. My banner hung above every citadel in Qoort and beyond. All living things chanting my name. This universe will know what peace is when I hold it all in my hands. Heralds will call my name, and citizens will see my army, and shutter.
Peace is an illusion. Freedom is a lie. War. Violence. Power. That is all that truly exists in the universe. A language spoken and understood by all.
And I hold them all. War master, bringer of violence and the ultimate power in all of Qoort.
Behold, the power of Zagorthor. Behold, the might of the DeathKnights of Qoort. Gaze upon the warship dressed in the skulls of rebellion.