He looked among his people, his 'friends', and smiled. The man smiled like a motherfuckin' angel, an angel free of this plane. I hated that smile, and yet it won't leave my head… IT WON'T LEAVE MY MOTHERFUCKIN' HEAD! His words burn in my mind like the words of the murthal minstrels themselves. They burn me brothers, like the fires that Her Imperial Condescension had burning under his feet.
The motherfucker was insane, a mutant whose blood looked of cotton candy, but tasted of lies and deception. I have spoke to his Disciple, to his lucus, to the motherfuckin' Helmsman himself, and I know as much about him as we knew in the beginning. He was a grub with no creature to nurture him, as the sea-dragons nurtured us. He was taken in by the caretaker, the Dolorosa, and loved by his Disciple. Many feared him, many wanted to join him, and many died by our hands to end it all. Under the orders of Her Imperial motherfuckin' Condescension, of course. I write this letter to you, my brothers, with the blood of the motherfucker himself. The blood of the troll who spoke of a time where blood wouldn't matter, and that we would all live in harmony. The Lowbloods, and the Highbloods, all living together like some motherfuckin' colony of thinkpan deprived, motherfuckin' grubs!
His heresy was dark, my brothers, but it is over now. The Sufferer suffers no more, and The Signless is now lifeless. Spread the word brothers, spread it to all four corners of Alternia… And let the rebels know that their leader is now my ink well.
In the name of Her Imperial Condescension,
Grand Highblood Makara.
:0)
Grand Highblood Kurloz Makara dipped his finger back into the small well of candy red blood, letting the fluid soak into this skin. He had always loved the feel of the blood of the lower class on his skin, right before he painted the walls of his throne room with his new 'miracles'; however, this blood left a bitter feeling in the pit of the subjugglator's digestion track. The large, clown-like troll stood from his writing chair and looked out the window of his hive. The land below was dark, barren like the many Faygo bushes he had planted a few weeks ago.
"Soon," the Grand Highblood said, "soon, those bushes will overflow with the ripe fruit of the wicked elixir. Then, I will feast like a motherfuckin' king." He spoke to himself, and no one else. His own revelation only made himself feel worse, as if he was moments away from a meeting with Her Imperial Condescension herself. He barely cared for the empress, the very thought of her reciting any of her disturbing fish puns made Kurloz's skin boil. "It's a tunic… Not a motherfuckin' tuna." He repeated to himself.
The Grand Highblood looked at the well of candy red colored blood once more, and felt his digestive track turn on itself as well. The troll couldn't understand, what was it about this blood that weakened his stomach? Was it the color? No, it reminded Makara of cotton candy, a delicacy on this barren rock. The feel of the liquid? No, it felt just like every other lowblood, blue blood, and pirate motherfucker's blood. What was it? WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKIN' HELL WAS IT?!
"Was it… Our moirailegence?" A calm, collected voice said in the back of the High Blood's mind. Makara turned, and met face to face with the white eyed ghost of the troll he had just killed. The Signless, The Sufferer, Kankri Vantas.
Kurloz shook his head, running his blood caked fingers through his hair, "'Nother hallucination. I need my faygo."
"I am no vision Kurloz," The Sufferer replied, still standing in front of the larger, unpredictable troll, "I am a vision. A vision sent to remind you of your promise… You broken promise."
"Leave me alone, motherfucker. I don't need to be reminded of what I said to you, my loyalty comes first." The large troll pushed through the ghost, letting it dissipate and reform in the doorway once more.
Kankri laughed, a laugh that shouldn't have been known to Alternia for centuries. "That's just fucking great! Now you're telling lies that even you don't believe."
"SHUT UP!" The Grand Highblood screamed as he turned back to the spirit of his moirail, a spirit that was no longer there.
"I will teach you, Kurloz Makara." The voice of The Signless said, the boom of his words echoing in the purple blooded troll's ears. "I will teach you of my story, and you will learn the power of your friendship…"