Intergalactic Summit

Paradise, or so they called it.

The first whispers of a terror beyond all thought have become a full blown banshee's scream of nightmares. The King of Curse has returned, and many lords of darkness and despair he has brought down upon Paradise's systems with him. There in the dark recess of D87 he has reared his walls and set up his fortress. Native men that had made Paradise into a beggars hut have been slaughtered and evicted. The alliance known as EYE FOR AN EYE has been cast down, the last survivors living in squalid backwaters and watching as their families trapped in POS and PI mines are blown away, and like cowards they sit and watch, waiting for the dark power to move on. But the region of Curse is doomed.

I have seen the fell lords of the alliance called 'Phobia.' They are tall and grim and do not stop when faced with great perils. They know fear but it is not fear of a death by mortal hands. It is a fear of the wrath of the King of Curse. A man called Pollychrest. Though he has not been called that since the first days, and will slay any who dare speak it to him now, unless he demands it. Around D87 he has gathered a mighty army. Brave pirates that sought Independence were coerced into his service, and they do not practice the dark arts of fear, but they serve the will of the King all the same. The whole constellation of Paradise has fallen into utter chaos. A lieutenant of the King who goes by many names, but is known by all his servants as "THE TITAN" has been named the Pope of Paradise. His church is one of malice and corruption, and his greed knows no bounds. Slaves toil away on the moons of Paradise, extracting metals to be used to fuel the war machine of Phobia. Great stores of wealth have been pillaged. All in name of the Pope's dark arts.

While this news seems perilous, and all hope seems lost from this constellation, it is but an echo of the true horrors to come. Soon the region of Curse and all it's dominions will begin to fall. I write to you as an observer, but as one tied to the fate of Phobia, and the will of the King. The Imp of Immensea and the Warden of Wicked Creek begin foul works in other lands, and more lords and men of great power flock to the banner of the King, for all will be destroyed who resist, and all who resist will be utterly broken.

I will speak no more of this matter for now, but you all stand warned. The KING OF CURSE HAS RETURNED.

Show me this "Trald Vukenda" you speak of and I will deal with him at once.

There should really be a quick scan to ensure the writer of a message is sober before transmitting. It would be beneficial for everyone involved.

All you who speak as if there was a King before are fools. This puppet was but a steward, and he was a fool. He has been slain, and though the "Angels" operate throughout the region, they are no longer the real threat, though they do the bidding of their dark master...THE KING OF CURSE.

*ahem*

Wat

Why would I be fearful of the self-proclaimed (false) monarch of a nation I never visit nor have any particular intention of ever visiting?

Honest question. Looking forward to your answer.

Sub-optimal temperature conveyance of narrative information, individual who I refer to as brother in a metaphorical but not literal manner.

....

*raises an eyebrow*

What am I listening too?

Oh yes, Curse - the graveyard of empires.

Come back in a year and make your claims. Until then, you're just another pretender.

I remember this corporation.

Good pilots and fighters.

Paint the stars crimson.