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Mavanger

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About Mavanger

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  1. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordeci followed his new master's instructions, settling down and closing his eyes, trying to meditate. He focused himself, tried to reach out, but something wasn't clicking. He called on the force, and it answered, but how to hide himself was beyond him. it wasn't as intuitive as merely moving things with the force was. Before he could go any further. They were interrupted, however, by a timid man, careful not to tread to heavily, as though the ground were covered in landmines primed to kill. His master's humor was infectious, if dark. He did not guffaw, or chuckle, but he appreciated the humor. He had never been known for his sense of humor though, even on Carida. The man's message, however, was a humorless one. They were going to war, and he was little more than an acolyte with rudimentary training with a blade and the force. Indeed, he felt more at home with a blaster as of now than he did the new weapon that he held in his hand. And yet, he was meant to be better than this. He wasn't a foot soldier in someone else's war, like his brothers were. He would be a foe to be reckoned with. And this was his chance to prove himself, for better or for worse. He followed the Sith Lord closely, keeping his head down. He had heard stories of how the Sith treated their rivals, and he would like to slip under their radars for as long as possible. If his pathetic attempt to fight Valinor was any indication of how'd he fare against a proper Jedi or Sith, he'd have to pick his targets carefully. He would stay by his master's side, to be sure however. He doubted she would save him if he got in trouble regardless of where he was, but he had no intention of picking a fight he couldn't handle. Then again, most people who die in wars never do. He boarded the shuttle behind Lord Valinor, looking out over Korriban as it rose, the legions of Sith soldiers and warriors preparing for the conflict. It was an epic spectacle, one that would strike fear into the hearts of their enemies. Still, there was a question on his mind as they departed the planet. "My Lord, where will the fight be?"
  2. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordeci looked up. Was he surprised? Indeed he was. Was he in disbelief, however? No. He believed that the dark side wascapable of such feats. He took her hand, though it was more of a formality, as he rose on his own. "The warrior's way is brutish. It lacks the delicate touch sometimes required. It is like a club. Dangerous, yes. But also predictable. Used with little or no thought. Sometimes, all you need to kill is the general, and the army falls apart. I will become an assassin. The scalpel of death, rather than the club. His mind raced, thinking of what was to come. He was to become Sith, now. If his luck and skill held up, he would perhaps ven become a Lord. But that was in the future. "What do I do now?
  3. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai nodded dutifuly. He had indeed never heard of the Sith lords that his teacher had mentioned. His legacy would not be one of triumph and glory, but of quiet whispers. He wouldn't be a man. He would be a myth. The boogeyman that mothers told their children about to scare them into behaving. The other sith would wonder who, if anyone, he was. A person? Or a title, passed on from generation to generation? Deathless? Perhaps dead long ago. Maybe this Sith's legacy would be one of order, and security. But powerful sith had enemies, he was sure. If not in the Jedi, then in other sith, looking to claim that power for their own. His resolve stronger than ever before, he turned to the lord, kneeling. "Teach me the ways of the Sith..." He was silent for a moment. This would be his final chance to back out. To die now, uncorrupted, as it were. But that was not what he came here to do. "...My lord"
  4. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai was silent for a moment, contemplating the question and the Sith's earlier lesson regarding the statues. Indeed, a legacy of death, pain, destruction and dispair was easily forgotten as soon as someone caused more than their predecessor. Perhaps... perhaps that was not the way to become a legend in the Sith. What would be a lasting legacy, however, escaped him. From what he had been told, what else was there for a sith to build a legacy on? He spoke these thoughts inquisitively. "You tell me a legacy of death is not sufficient. These ruined statues are proof of that fact. That leaves me quesioning, however, what is a Sith to build a legacy on, if not death and fear and hatred?" he asked. He glanced back at the Sith. He was painfuly aware that if he failed this test, he'd die here. He wouldn't even be an acolyte, and he'd have failed. This fear of failure filled him with more strength, however, than any complacency that would have filled him in a less brutal enviornment.
  5. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai had been too enthralled in his brief victory over the course that he hadn't noticed the change in goals. He silently obeyed the Sith Lord, taking a knee. He did as was told, drawing on the prisoner's anger at her captivity, hatred for him and the Sith, and fear of what would become of her. The rush it gave him was euphoric, and he could suddenly understand why Jedi would fall so easily, and so few Sith ever 'redeemed' themselves. He reversed his earlier machinations with the lightsaber before him, slowly, carefully dismantling it as he prepared to replace the crystal. As he did so, he could feel the Force becoming more familiar, like a mute slowy gaining a voice and learning to use it. While his earlier usage had been sloppy and wrought with mistakes, he was slowly ironing out the kinks, learning to do simple procedures such as this in a faster, more fluid motion. The first crystal was discarded with an abesnt projection of his will, and he carefully fitted the new crystal into the weapon. He reassembled the weapon, quicker this time, and pulled it into his hand. He gripped the hilt, and could feel the crystal. However, he didn't know how to 'bind the darkness in his spirit' to the crystal. He felt the crystal pulling him, he could almost feel it in the corporeal world. He simply submitted to the Force, and let it lead the way. For now, at least. Until he understood how. He was not such a fool as to use a tool without understanding how to do so properly. And then, the Force had receeded. Curious, he activated the lightsaber. It sprang to life, the crimson glow washing over his surroundings. He smiled. A red blade. The first sign of being a Sith. Still, the second half of the Lord's instructions did not fall on deaf ears. His first thought was to just pull the captive, as he had the crystal, but when he tried, discomfor arced through his body, weblike, and yet not following his veins or nervous system. As he continued his attempt, the slight discomfort quickly turned to a sharp pain, and he was forced to release his grasp. He gasped, his sparehand going to the ground to steady himself. The prisoner gave him a dirty look, and he sneered at her. The Sith had never said he had to be gentle. His first move was to sprint foward, straight for the platform. Much to his dismay, it was much higher up than it had seemed to be from the beginning of the course. He knew there was no way to jump that high, at least, not in his current state. And so he veered of for the closest ramp, but too late. The time had already been lost and he heard the loud bark of one of the turrets before feeling an electric pain down his spine and he fell to the ground. He struggled to stand, and took a few wary steps towards the ramp, only for the turret to fire again, sending him to the ground once more. He growled. How was he supposed to make it if that damned turret shot him every time he stood? Above him, the Imperial seemed to be enjoying herself watching his failings. It only served to enrage him further as he pulled himself forward, leaping up with an angry shout, only to once again be shot by the turret. His mind raced. The pain was becoming more intense with each shot. He thought back to the stories his father had told him. Of Jedi and Sith deflecting blaster bolts with the flick of a wrist. He stumbled to his feet once more, his lightsaber hissing as it activated. Just in time, as the turret fired again, but he failed to stop the bolt, taking the shot to his chest his time, a blow that sent him to his knees. With a roar of anger and hatred of his own, he threw the lightsaber at the turret, watching it sail through the air in a haphazard spin before slicing she turret in two with a flurry as screeching and sparks. He stood in triumph for a moment, before remembering the second turret as it hit his shoulder and sending him to the ground. He rolled over, reaching for it with the force. The invisible tendrils of pain and despair mved to his command, wrapping around the barrel or the turret and crushing it. The fixed weapon tried to fire again, but only succeeded in damaging itself further. He stood in bittersweet victory for moment, before walking across the room and scooping up his lightsaber, turning to the woman with hatred in his eyes. Her smug expression had faded now as he stalked up the ramps, never once taking his eyes off of her. he wanted to hurt something, and that something was right in front of him. He didn't beat her. He didn't assault her with the lightsaber. No. Instead, he simply... pushed her over the edge of the platform, watching with steely satisfaction as she fell to muffled screamed before hitting the ground with a soft thud. For a moment she was so still he thought he'd managed to kill her, but that proved to not be the case as she began to slowly squirm on the ground in pain. He walked back down to where his moment of triumph had occured, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her to her feet. He dragged her to the beginning of the course, throwing her to the ground before the Sith Lord, his earlier expression of cocky pride replace by one of smoldering fury. "It is done, Lord."
  6. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai gazed at the training course. The turrets were intimidating, but would only matter if he failed. He prepared to run the course, taking in each ramp and ledge, every jump, his imperial training taking over. He stopped himself- Imperials thought such a way because they didn't have the force. Mordecai did. He stood straight, took a step forward. and reached out with his newfound abilities. Immediately, he could feel it. The crystal pulses, hummed with energy invisible to the unworthy and the uninitiated alike. He grasped at it, like a child grasping for a toy, for a new experience, and pulled. The crystal responded, and the energy reacted to his own, the force obeying, whether by choice or by his own force of will, he couldn't tell. He opened his eyes, and gazed at the crystal as it flew closer. he was acutely aware that he likely only had a few seconds left, and gave a hardy tug. The crystal flew into his open hand, and he closed it into a fist, turning to his mentor. "That was easy. What now?" he asked. He could feel it. With every moment that he used the force, his connection to it grew stronger. Not by much, he wouldn't be breaking any records, but it was there. Over time, he would get better at using this new tool, until eventually, he theorized, it would become like an extra limb- an extension of his will.
  7. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai had expected many things when he decided to come to Korriban and train as a Sith. Pain, both physical and mental. Difficulties on a level that were previously unknown to him. He prepared for even more. His death when he arrived, failure to complete his training, even the possibility that he was shot down before ever reaching the cursed planet. What he hadn’t prepared for was seeing familiar faces. He recognized one of men, Fal, a friend of his whom he hadn’t spoken to since he left. They had grown up together, but Fal had left for Kuat a year ago. Immediately, he called out. “Mordecai! What are you doing here?” Fal grew silent, glancing at the ominous sith lord that was wreathed in shadow, then back to Mordecai. “It doesn’t matter. You can help us! Just-” He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before his head tumbled to the ground, severed with a single cut. The other male gasped, and tried to move away. Mordecai stopped him with a single word. “Stay.” He grinned. Before, the youngest of his family, the heir to nothing, his word was next to meaningless. His older brothers always trumped him. But here… He stared at the weapon in his hand. He held the power of life and death now. There was guilt, of course. One does not kill a lifelong friend on a whim and come away without the feeling of guilt, but it would pass. An Imperial claiming association with him after being captured would do him no good in the days to come. He had no room for weak blood in his midst. He could feel the fear radiating from the two others, though mostly from the other man. He stepped in front of the cadet. “Where were you when Kuat fell?” He received no answer. He frowned. Surely, this whelp of a prisoner didn’t defy him? No. It was the fear. Even he, as unaccustomed to the force as he was, could feel it. Too timid. This death was not as clean. He stabbed the man through his heart, and let him die in pain. There was but one more. The Sith Lord had told him the only way to build a legacy was to kill more than the previous sith before him. This was a good start. And yet… There was one more. He hadn’t even come to a halt before she uttered her words. “You’re a coward, and a traitor. You kill shackled prisoners and think yourself mighty. But you’re weak.” He breathed in, his momentary anger fading. She was stronger than the other two, a fact hidden by the tears that marred her face. He doubted she would survive if he released her, so he did the next best thing. “She would make a good sith. She may have the will for it. But if she lacks a connection to the force, or if you disagree, she will be my slave.”
  8. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai sighed as he was ordered to do the task again. To him, it was pointless, the exercise of an ability that he felt he had already demonstrated his competence with. As he stood to place the age-old hilt where it was before, to repeat the test, his eyes lingered on the crystal at his feet. It was beautiful, the blue shining ever so softly in the dim lighting of the chamber. The battery, brand new in comparison with the ancient weapon in his hand, the metallic sheen reflecting the crystal’s glow. He looked away, placing the hilt back in the sand. He moved back to his prior position, returning to sitting.He breathed in, picturing the hilt in his mind, the memory of its owner still fresh in his mind, even if it was no longer present in the weapon. He could see her hand tightening around the hilt, bound by a leather that had long since eroded away. Before the sith’s fall, it had been simple, a chrome hilt with a simple brown leather, but after she fell, the weapon had changed to match. The guard and pommel of the hilt had received intricate etchings, filled with gold, which had rusted away over the years. The engravings had faded as well, though were still visible in places. The simple leather had been replaced with a high quality fabric that was unknown to him, though that too had rotted away to time. He reached out again, commanding the Force to obey. It was a tool, and he was the one that wielded it. He molded it into tendrils, reaching out towards the hilt. Slowly, they wrapped around the lightsaber, lifting it into the air. He pulled it towards him, much the same as before, his frustration at the repetition fueling his command more than his meditation before had. Much more quickly, the weapon floating to in front of him. He honed his frustration into a tool unto itself, guiding the battery and crystal off the sandy ground beneath him. The crystal seemed to hum in response to the Force, but he paid it no mind. Slowly, the weapon began to assemble itself, a presence pressing against his mind, guiding his actions. He had never learned to make a lightsaber, but the force guided him. With a soft click, the process completed. He opened his eyes, and the newly completed weapon dropped, sending a small puff of dirt into the air. He reached down, lifting it. It didn’t look any different, but he knew that appearance was a deceptive one, that if he simply pushed a button… With a loud hiss, the blade sprung to life. The soft glow of the crystal had given way to the brightness of the lightsaber’s blade. He stood, giving the weapon an experimental swing. It was weightless, but dangerous. A single swing could end a life, a capability that he relished owning. He looked to the Sith Lord. “What now, my Lord?”
  9. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai heeded the instructions of the Sith lord. He could still feel the lightsaber, now an empty shell. It lacked the presence that had made it so easy to latch onto, but it was still a physical object. It was like a spider’s web, reaching out and attaching each individual organism and force-imbued object to each other. By tugging on the web, he could lift the hilt, and he did so. The hilt rose slowly, and as he pulled the hilt towards him, he opened his eyes to see the blade drifting towards him, every so slowly. Frowning, he pulled harder. Too hard, it seemed, as the hilt flew past him and towards a wall. As it flew by, he struggled to regain control, stopping it inches before it hit. He tugged again, softer, but still firm, and the hilt flew into his hand.
  10. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai didn't need to see the shape in the sand. he could sense her. Anguish rose from the blade, along with promises of power if he disobeyed there was something deeper, too. A fear of a proper death. He hesitated- the emotions had spilled over his novice collection, and destroying the spirit felt... wrong. But if he wanted to be more powerful, he would have to. He reached towards the hilt with the force, grasping the spirit, and tearing it from the hilt, separating it from it's final physical connection to this world.
  11. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai could sense the dark energy around the saber, a Sith Lord’s energy still thickening the air around the weapon. It was old- Older than any living Sith or Jedi. “A lightsaber. Not originally of Sith make” he muttered, reaching into the weapon’s history. “An ancient weapon, from the days of the Old Sith Empire, in the days of the Old Republic. The weapon is slightly longer than most, held with two hands rather than one. There were intricate carvings on the hilt, long since eroded by Korriban. Not a Sith weapon- A Jedi’s, at least at first. A blue crystal, turned red. She was a Jedi” he said. Before his eyes, visions of the owner’s life flashed before him. “She was taken as a child into the Jedi Order, like most. She trained under a distinguished master, a guardian of the light. She fought on the front lines of countless conflicts, supposedly keeping the peace.” he said, the memories of wars and battles long over and foes long vanquished washing over him. “She became disillusioned with the Jedi Order. She had seen it’s lies, it’s hypocrisy.” he said, anger from the fallen lord seeping through his link to the blade, muddling his own emotions. “She left the order, wandering alone for a time. And then, the Sith Empire rose again, taking Korriban. She could hear the Dark Side’s call, and she answered. She came to Korriban to be trained as a Sith.” he whispered. The sand blinded him as he stepped out of a ship, only to be greeted by a collection of Sith. “The Sith had sensed her arrival. She announced herself, and declared her power. One sith stepped forward, and she cut him down. There were others, and they met the same fate. She climbed the ranks, with little training, embracing the Dark Side, but using her training and experience as a Jedi to give her an advantage over the other acolytes, and then lords. She grew powerful, a warlord of the Jedi’s own making, a twisted child of both paths. She grew arrogant.” he said. “Her arrogance killed her. She challenged the Dark Lord, and despite her skill and experience, was bested. Easily.” he said. “Her weapon fell to the grounds of Korriban, where it remained until today.” he said. “In the end, her greatest enemy was her ego. She rose too quickly, became to sure of her skills. She paid for that insolence with her life.”
  12. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai reached out once more. Again he could feel it, and he could take it with less effort. He could feel the ancient lords, but he paid them no mind. Not only did he lack the knowledge and skill to revive an ancient lord, it would also defeat his purpose. He would simply be continuing another's legacy, which was why he had left his family's home on Carida. He was here to make his own, not support some ancient dead man's. As was instructed, he spread his mind to the ground, feeling the ancient dark side energy that seemed to be embedded into the stone. He went further, examining his surroundings from this new lens. he could feel the crackling energy around the Sith Trainer, the danger and hatred. He could feel the darkness of Korriban as a whole, but other than that, it was empty outside the room. He wasn't very strong, yet. But he would get better. "I can feel it." he said, quieter than his normal volume.
  13. Mavanger

    Korriban

    The Sith snapped his fingers and the room dimmed around all but one lone, weathered statue. Mordecai vaguely recognized the man from the descriptions his father had given him of the Emperor of his time. Mordecai frowned at this realization- an Emperor that was so recent's statue shouldn't have been so weathered and broken, and yet... this. He followed the Sith as he spoke, watching the Sith statues with intensity. When the Sith turned to look at him, all he could see was a glimpse of red under the man's mask. He listened to the man's words, and let that sink in. He would need to become stronger, that much he had already seen during his fight with the Sith Lord. He was snapped back into focus as the voices spoke, only to be silenced by the Lord. Despite his words, Mordecai's mind was already working silently to discern the meaning behind the words, if there truly was any to be had. The Sith pointed to a clearing, and told him o meditate. He had tried connection to the force before, but now, with such history around him, it was almost permeable. He walked over, tucking his legs underneath his body as he knelt, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath, and reached out with his mind. "I feel... the Force." he said. It was obvious, but his words failed to explain what he felt. The intangible feeling around him, reacting to his emotions and his thoughts. And yet, it was elusive. Whenever he would reach out, it would recede like a school of fish. And then, he had it. The force around him was his to use. "it's like.... clay. Mine to shape and use as a tool however I see fit.
  14. Mavanger

    Korriban

    As the Sith spoke of Mordecai's legacy, he was briefly offended. The sith had a point, however. His father had only been a low ranking officer in the Imperial navy, as had the rest of his ancestors. He came from a rather bland line of low-ranking officers, which in the galactic scale meant nothing. His sensitivity to the force had given him a chance neither of his brothers had in their lives. Mordecai nodded. "I am prepared to train and battle for however long is needed to become a great warrior." he said. He was sorely regretting his decision to put off his training with the vibroblade now, especially after seeing the Sith Lord simply shrug off the blow. Mordecai looked at the statues in silent, expressionless awe. Now this was a true legacy. "Less than I would like to. I only know of their prowess in battle from my father's stories. I know nothing of Sith legends or culture." he said, "Something I would like to remedy as soon as possible."
  15. Mavanger

    Korriban

    Mordecai felt his stomach drop as his blow simply glanced off the man's armor, before feeling a pressure around his neck as the Sith Lord tossed him like a ragdoll. As he skidded across the ground, attempting to roll to his feet, he felt the same unseen force as before drag him to his feet. he heard the Sith's words, and had to struggle with the urge to strike again. Doing so would do him no good. If he did manage to even injure the sith, his death would surely follow shortly fter. The Sith turned away and moved towards the temple ahead. Mordecai fell into step behind him. The next question caught Mordecai by surprise, though he supposed it shouldn't have. He considered spinning a tale, but once more, he doubted it would do any good. He was silent for a moment more, considering his words carefully. "I come to build a legacy greater than my father's before me, or his father before him. I came to become one of the greatest warriors who ever lived." he said, remembering his father's words on the Sith and the Jedi.
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