[center][color=red][h1][i]~ALASTOR~[/i][/h1][/color][/center]
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Darkness. Whirling darkness was all about him. His inhuman thoughts the only company he had as he fell through this unending hell. As he drifted through this lightless place, the place between worlds that was so much darker than his home ever could be, several thoughts crossed his mind. The loudest and most obvious being, [color=red][i]"How the hell did I manage to screw that up?"[/i][/color] He had been careful, so very careful while playing their long game. Always making sure to cover his tracks. To mask one lie with just enough truth to throw his opponents off of his trail. But despite all his caution... all his care, the other lords still managed to outsmart him. 

And in the most humiliatingly obvious way as well. A tactic that he himself had used more times than he could count at this point.

They had played to his ego, making it [i]seem[/i] as though he had finally defeated them all and won their billion years long political conflict, when they were in fact setting up a trap, one which he walked right into. Like a fool. It all happened so fast as well. One minute he was sitting on his throne, musing over ways to tame the westlands his keep stood in and finally bring them to heel, when the doors to his throne room were violently thrown open by a large procession of lords and common folk. He hadn't even had time to question them, let alone stand and defend himself, before they had taken him. He recalled being dragged from his glorious throne and cast into a holding cell before being left alone with nothing but his thoughts and the darkness to keep him company while his captors went forward with their plans.

Plans which he would not learn of till they came to fruition weeks later, when it was already too late for him to do anything about them. He was powerless to stop them from locking him into a more orderly, yet highly limited and easily worn out body. One that bore a very strong resemblance to the fleshy meatsuits that the homo-sapiens from Earth always walked about in, which gave him a good idea of what was going on. He was being exiled. And if the body he was being bound to was any indication, he was being sent to that boring blue marble of a world the monkeys inhabited. Something that was both good and bad.

It was good because the others did not intend to simply end his existence, but bad because he knew that realm lacked, as far as he knew, the one vital source of fuel on which not only his people's immortality relied... chaos energy. Of course, there wasn't much he could do about that at the moment. After all, he was no longer in control of thing's. His enemies were.

And after several hours spent getting him into his new form, it seemed as though they were finally ready to be rid of him. For wordlessly they opened a portal within his citadel, one which led into an abyss darker than anything he had ever seen before, and cast him in.

Thus he found himself plummeting through this empty and directionless place. The once powerful and cunning Alastor, Unifier of Chaazim and Subduer of Lords, now was nothing more than a lowly outcast, stripped of his power, might, and authority sentenced to live out the rest of his life on a backwater world inhabited by a pathetically primitive species. All brought about by his own hubris.

A very ironic end indeed.

Alastor shook his head and squinted as a piercing pinpoint of light appeared in the darkness, momentarily blinding his human visual organs. The place of his exile was fast approaching while the time for reflection on past events was quickly passing. Tensing up, and mentally preparing himself for a very rough landing, Alastor steeled himself as the light slowly engulfed his form...