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Darkness....

 

T'was from which all was birthed and in which all would perish. It's symbolism was alpha and omega. Yet, despite its purity, it hid in the cracks and crevices, shadowed by the blinding of the ever so egotistical light that shined so brightly. Only in the depths of Chaos, where fire and brimstone and molten lava existed, naturally did darkness and light become one. Or in the heavens, where light were mere specks upon the horizon, enmbraced by the eternally night, where all began and ended. Such was the truest of philosophy.

 

But this night did Darkness emerge from within the light, a wormhole opening to unleash the demonic being known simply as Darth Oni as the humble hue of blurred blue and black erupt forth within the heavens and reveal the vessel that carried the Sith Master in a flash of brief light amidst the darkened backdrop. As beacons of light slowed to a stand still upon the outskirts of the void, a star spangled canvas appeared before him as his gaze fell upon the world known as Onderon and it's bejeweled offspring known as Dxun. Oni merely grinned as he descended from the heavens toward its suspecting surface, mundane protocols transmitted for the sole purpose of identification. Clearance granted, the twisted angel's presence soon was felt across it's entirety.

 

The Master of Darkness, true to his nature, let forth his blackened wings and encompassed the planet with his presence, allowing all to feel his truth. For he had come with but a singular purpose, and his divined was clear. His thoughts ran amuck only for a humbled moment as he reached out, divining his purpose and set forth toward it in strict haste. His stride was afloat, his posture warriors, his gaze hidden behind the blackened mask that bore the tusks of his demonic visage. For now the time of relaxation and humor had past, and the depth of the demon revealed its truest self.

 

"Lord Exodus" Oni snarled from behind the blackened mask as tentacles of latent power ensnaring the door frame let loose its tightened grasp from which the demon arose from mere seconds before, the Sith Master removing his mask to reveal his true face. "It has been quite awhile since Vjun, 'brother'."

 

Such a word was never versed by Oni unless it was deserved, and despite both being former pupils of Nurgle, the two had once been opposition. Yet, in his tone, it's verse found a humbled sincerity as he gave life to it. For this day of days, Oni had came to pay homage toward Exodus.

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Oni simply grinned, his brown eyes flickering an onyx black as he gazed upon his Emperor. He had not been called by what he truly was in a long time: an Alcazarin. And for Exodus to know what he was, though confused by it, found it quite prideful to know that his precedence proceeded him. His gaze briefly shifting toward the young Apprentice and her quarrel, noticing the oversized oaf's general intent, Oni could help but chuckle within.

 

"So this is the life of an Emperor, eh Exodus?" Oni questioned, his tone slightly sarcastic. Such a life would never sit well with the demon, for it seemed too confined, too needy, too lax for his tastes. "I must confess. This would never suit my desires. I would prefer more freedom."

 

Oni approached, his presence echoing of no threat as he did, the twin Darksabers clipped securely upon his hip, the Darkmetal Staff placed tightly within its sheath upon his back, and his hand holding the Darkmetal Mask that had adorned his face when he entered. Finding a humbled perch upon a table near the throne's footing, placing a foot where one would have typically sat, Oni grabbed his flagon and took a sip, the amber ale quenching his thirst if only briefly.

 

"Forgive me, my Lord. I come not today as a Alcazarin, even though in truth, i am curious as to how you knew of our existence. But no. Today I come as a Sith Master only, pure and simple. " Oni unclips one of the Darksabers, his gaze looking upon its simplistic hilt briefly before tossing it toward Exodus still deactivated and guiding it toward the Assassin's palm. "I've come to offer my blade to my brethren, and to swear my fealty to you, our Lord. That is all."

 

Oni thought back to the last time that he and Exodus had saw each other, back to that day upon Vjun at Nurgle's ruined Castle where the Apprentices of the Chaos God had gathered and where loyalty were divided by differences. A fool hardy Lord himself, Oni had acted brash in defence of the former God. Yet so much time had passed. Perhaps Exodus would see him now as an asset rather than the nuisance he once was.

 

Tossing the corked flagon he had just drank from to Exodus as well, Oni smiled, perhaps his most sincere in the longest of time, and spoke. "So what do you say brother? Do you accept my oath of fealty?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

Oni grimaced at Exodus' words, the hidden spurs and horns protruding underneath the skin of his forehead as his temper flared ever so lightly at such a dismissal and accusation. His words were never hollow, nor was he a mere tool to be used and discarded. And if Exodus was to believe such a thing, then he would find his thoughts to be that of a fool. Calming himself, Oni's face returning to normal and his glare more stern and serious, he stood up, a growl erupting before the words that flew from his mouth followed. "Hollow, Exodus?" Oni questioned in disbelief, more temperamental than horrified. "You were there that day just as much as I when Nurgle offered us to join him and that coward attacked our former Master. I may have been wrong in thinking that you followed his path as well, but we were not dissidents. Nurgle wanted to stop the infighting, to build a foundation and make us strong. Not usurp. That was never the intent of the Alcazarins.

 

Unlike their forefathers in the Sith, Nurgle wanted to eliminate the need for infighting, the need to prove one better than the rest, the ever growing lust for power. And he created that in the Alcazarin's, whom by nature, could not attack a fellow Alcazarin without it recoiling back upon one's self. And if it hadn't been for that, Oni may have followed the endless cycle. This was why his respect for Nurgle was seemingly unwavering. "That is why I stand before you now, as both Alcazarin and Sith Master, not as a blade to be sharpened and used as you will me, but as an equal in your invisionment. I wish to finish what Nurgle started, to help my brethren move past their infinite hunger and lust, and to find purpose and meaning within the Order. This is why, like Nurgle before me with Lady Dominic, I've come to pledge myself to you. The Blade may be a symbol of what I offer, but I am not just that. I am Sith and Alcazarin.... my chains broken long ago."

 

Taking the Darkstaff from upon his back, Oni began to focus, the air around him growing warmer with each passing second as the air further outward began to crow colder and colder. Within moments, the Darkmetal he held in hand Tibetan to glow red and steam as he let go, it hovering before him as it's shape began to melt away and a blob of molten ore soon took it's place. Turning to his Cathar apprentice, Oni simply smirk, nodding in his approval to Exodus request, and motioning for him to approach the other Apprentice Telperiën. "We are Alcazarins, followers of Darth Rivan and Nurgle's belief that true power resides in solidification rather than fragmentation. That loyalty and brotherhood is more important than power and status. And that without unification, dissent is inevitable."

 

As the Imperial Guards that were near Telperiën began to drop one by one to their knees as the very lifeforce within them began to slightly wane, the Darkmetal now began to separate into two orbs, both beginning to take new shapes as Oni's focus intensified, drawing in the power from around him rather than from him. "It's through this belief that we found that we can harness the Force around us rather than what flows from us, just as you are witnessing now. Yet, even with this power, we cannot harm each other, as we are binded by that very unity."

 

Suddenly Oni releases his focus, the air around them slightly cooler than before beginning to warm up as two items float before Oni, blackening as they cool down in their final form. Before Oni was a singular crown, jagged with fang like cuspids encompassing it's frame both on top and bottom. And beside it was a blade, its hilt endorsing a similar fashion across it's guard with a hole near it's center that could house a lightsaber crystal within and the Sithly Spider Insignia that adorned the throne room and halls encircled at it's bottom. Presenting them to Exodus, the Darkmetal filled not only with the air around them, but the stolen lifeforce as well. "I present to you, Lord Exodus, the "Jagged Crown" and the Blade known as "Abyss" as a token of my commitment and fealty. However, tread lightly, as you will have to feed both with the Force drained from others, lest they begin to feed upon you."

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Oni stood before Exodus undauntingly, his amber eyes unwavering. For Oni was who he wished to be, no matter what was thought of him by those he considered brethren nor what he was considered to be. While it was true that he was an Alcazarin by name, he was Sith by heart. Not in the evilest of aspects, but by its philosophy and code. And he was strong in the Force, his understanding of it's nature unorthodox within the Order. But he held little care what others thought, and despite those whom would find him weak within their eyes, they would know his true power in time. For Oni was loyal, even to a fault, when it came to his beloved Order. And as Exodus spoke, his grin was whole heartily.

 

"I agree brother," Oni spoke, his gaze averting toward the dueling pupils. "I see a new era for the Sith upon the horizon, one that can be honed and solidified with each generation of trained Apprentices. Too long have we been so lusted for power and torn asunder by greed and jealousy, that we've forgotten the truth of our code.

 

Oni takes a seat, propping his feet up in a relaxed position as he views onward in pride toward his Apprentice's accomplishments since Korriban. "Take young Camik there, the Cathar. A former slave now finding his chain broken in all aspects. And all I've done was discuss philosophy and teach him that power isn't just found in our weapons, but in ourselves. Oni chuckled, taking a small sip from the flagon as he watched Camik reverse Telperiën's push of the blade and guiding it aside and away. "And it seems he is beginning to understand.

 

Turning toward Exodus, Oni's words take a more serious, yet relaxed tone as if Oni were revealing a part of his true nature to his Lord and brother, something he felt that Exodus had rarely seen within their Order and hoped it would show truth to words that followed. "I may have once been known as the Demon of Nurgle, an assassin that was feared and respected. But you are the first to ever have questioned my loyalty, despite our shared Master, we the children of the Chaos Gods. Very few left can claim that title, and only three of us remain of Nurgle's legacy that I know of. And now here we stand, Masters of ourselves and our power, no matter how our philosophies have grown. You came before me, as i am the last of his Apprentices, just as the others did. But you also know that Nurgle instilled loyalty within us all. So to question me would be to question yourself.

 

Oni chuckled briefly, hoping Exodus would remember and understand his meaning as he coated his throat once more, wiping the alcoholic beverage from upon his lips with his sleeve. Hopefully that will answer your question brother. But if not, know that for the good of the Sith, I will follow you into Chaos its self, and you're more than welcome to test my words if you wish.

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The aroma of distrust permeated from upon the Dark King as he spoke to Oni, so much so that it would linger in the air even for moments after Exodus' departing. But Oni sat there, in this moment, with a smile upon his face as he noticed this, the disease that mutated him into what he was granting a boost to his five senses. And it was okay, because Oni knew all too well that actions spoke louder than words, and he would prove it nevertheless. Such was the demon that bore the name Darth Oni. "As you wish Lord Exodus." His words carrying sincerity as he watched the Dark King rise from his throne and disappate, his will carrying himself toward the dueling pupils.

 

Oni too stood and began his trek toward Camik and Telperiën, the Sith Master's stride slow and long, almost elegantly dreadful. His eyes began to flicker between brown and the overcoating of onyx as he progressed. The very air around him began to warm and heat before it stirred and swirled within, the Force feeding the leech as it strode forward, and the atmosphere almost seemed to play a frightful melody with each step he made, his devilish grin never leaving his face. Oni watched as Exodus reappearance near the Apprentices, his arms outstretched in a display of condemning power as both felt the Dark Lords power, a power Oni had only seen once before, though then it was milder in comparison, and he reveled in seeing it first hand once again. His face contoured, refiguring it's form as the horns once again adorned his forehead just beneath the skin and became as strong as durasteel, his cuspids elongated, showing the truest form of Oni's identity as he stopped just short of the last step. In an almost unified symphony, as Exodus' words escaped his mouth, a primitive roar erupted from Oni followed by a chug from the flagon as he simply stared, his true form apparent.

 

"Yes. Enough.... Camik." Oni spoke in a calmly tone, his words managing to growl themselves out from him throat without hinderance by the elongated cuspids. "You have done well today, as have you young Dathomiri. Take pride in yourselves, and know this. If you had not pleased our Dark Lord, you would not be alive to hear my words."

 

OOC:

 

Duel Results

 

As we agreed OOC, I'm going to keep my ruling unbiased and truthful. With that, here we go. First off, congrats guys. You threw what you had at your disposal toward each other, and defended in very creative ways. And I agree much with Exodus in his assessment. Other than the usual grammar, punctual, and vocabulary mishaps, it was well read. But remember guys, those mistakes can cost you duels. Trust me, I made quite a few myself, and still likely will. Just doublecheck everything when posting within a duel, and make sure it flows to your satisfaction at least. Then you can honestly say you've done your very best, and can take pride whether in defeat or win. That being said, as Exodus pointed out, watch your realism. But don't put yourself at a disadvantage either. Find a reasonable balance of power you believe your character should posses, and heighten it just slightly. For instance, with Camik, when Telperiën lunged at you with the axe head, you should have posted struggling with it more or taken slight damage (IE nicked your fur) as you spun away, or even possibly used her incoming momentum against her by combining what little telekinesis ability you held with what she had given. And likewise with Telperiën, when you attacked Camik, though slightly more skilled as I've taken from what Exodus mentioned, at least struggled more with such heavy weight. Even at a Lord's level, it would require almost all of your focus to throw something so large(if I'm gauging the size correctly). But that's why I say find a balance of where you think your character's power should be and raise it one bar. Other than that, you guys were awesome to read. Creative, intuitive, and even fair toward your opponents. Great quality to have as an RP'er.

 

That being said, and since my ride is here and ive got to clock out and go,and in my honest opinion, Telperiën won. Grammar, Punctuality, Vocabulary, IC level of skill, and IC believability was a bar higher than Camik in this case. But either way, both of you please take pride in yourselves. You did extremely well considering your level of skill IC and writing ability OOC, and I am proud of you guys myself. Take mine and Exodus' suggestions and grow from it, and you'll give even us a proper run for our money even in your current IC levels.

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Oni sat in silence as he gauged his Apprentice's emotions, watching the ferocity of the beast's mind come to life at the mere grasp of his throat, causing the Sith Master to lower in gaze. Such things would not do in the eyes of Oni, and an idea briefly crossed his mind as a means to rid the Cathar of such beastality. As his gaze returned toward the three, now noticing Exodus beginning to leave, his form returned to normal and he bowed momentarily as the Dark King mentioned his name.

 

But what followed was shock and horror, something that left even a Sith Master such as Oni taken aback and left in stupor. His mind quickly reeled it's self in, trying to register what had jist been spoken, and leaving it wanting as it tried to make sense of Exodus' words. He didn't want to believe it, yet, even in darkness he could feel the truth of the words. And in a singular felled moment, Oni questioned his entire belief system. And by the time he had gathered his senses, Exodus had departed.

 

Shaking the words from his mind, at least for the moment, Oni turned to Camik. There was always a time and place for self doubt and redirection of thoughts, yet now was not one of them. He would take a moment to further his Apprentice's training, and focus solely on that... for now. "Come Camik, it's time for more training. Meet me outside the palace."

 

Without another word, Oni turned on his heel and exited the Throne Room, his heading toward a central courtyard near the rear of the Palace. Try as he might, despite his training, Exodus' words still lingered and behind the replaced mask, anger encompassed his face. But for now the thoughts would remain oblivious, feathered to the far reaches of his subconscious until the right time presented its self for him to release them. For now Camik and his training needed his full focus.

 

Once Camrik followed, unobservant of Oni having collected a collar from the deceased guards during his exit, would find Oni's speed and strength nearly impossible to resist and completely overpowering as the Master attacked his Apprentice and shackled the slave collar around the Cathar's enlarged neck. And yet, any observer of the Force would have quickly noticed that Oni had never reached upon its use as he pinned the young one with absolute and relative ease. Rising off Camik, Oni offered his hand to lift his Apprentice, despite the repercussions he knew likely would follow.

 

"You have much to learn Camik," Oni hissed, his tone firm yet understanding. "The collar holds no chain, yet will remain until I will it's release. Are we clear Apprentice?"

 

Oni knew his words were harsh, but there was a lesson to be learned here, just as he himself had to learn. Though, in truth, Oni's lesson was a much harder one to learn, and the taint upon his soul bore witness to it's testimony. He did not do this out of cruelty as many Masters would, but as a means to get the end result he wished. If Camik was to be truly free, bindings could never be his weakness.

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"Just stop.." Oni slightly shrieked, his irritation of Exodus' words slightly observent as he gazed upon his pupil, his eyes flickering in onyx behind the blackened mask the adorned his face, hidden behind the slits of the mask's eyesight. "You're my student, not my slave. If the collar pisses you off, then be pissed off. Curse, swear, roar, whatever you will. Wear you emotions, but do not let the rule you."

 

Oni sighed, focusing his mind and centering himself. "I too have been a slave. Not in the same context as you, but a slave none the less. First to this cursed disease, nothing more than a mere beast. Then to that blasted protocol droid that Umaga placed me in during my time with the Hutt's. And even now it seems, " Oni clenched his fist, his temper boiling at the thought of truth behind the Dark Lord's words. "I'm still a slave to the false ideas I believed in, no more than lies flowered by false convictions and agendas."

 

The disease that taints Oni's soul flares with, causing the demons form to rise to the surface, one of the reasons he hides his form in public areas. Without a single movement, a mere thought upon his mind, a nearby column shatters into dust and disappears into the wind. And as quickly as his temper flares, it subsides, as does the demonic form. "My hopes for you, by wearing this collar, is that you see it for what it is: a means of hindering the spirit of the weak, not the form. And in this lesson, realize that it is mere material, something that holds no meaning than what you let it mean to you.

 

Oni sighs, looking for a place to sit when a presence causes him to turn and face a newcomer. Clad in Armor, boastful in his accomplishments almost as much as his deaths, Oni smiles, his mind wondering back to his time as a Lord. A time when Oni was as sure of himself as he was that the sun would rise and set, hiding his former grotesque features behind the assassin's armor he once wore. Truly, some things would never change, and it eased his heart to know this.

 

"Forgive me Darth Akheron." Oni spoke with a humble chuckle, having noticed a pure presence within the darkness that surrounded the figure before him, causing the Sith Master to take notice of the bloodline that ran through the man, or rather Massassi in this case. "I've only recently returned to the Order after an extended hiatus. I am Darth Oni."

 

Oni extended his arm out to grasp the man's near the elbow, a warrior's handshake of the equal nature, signifying that he saw him as brethren. Oni's mind still weighed heavily the truth of the Dark Lord's lingering words, but as time passed and with the aid of this newcomer's distraction, Oni was able to let it fall toward the back of his thoughts.

 

"I must confess that I do not know of this Sheog the Mad, but the name brings out my curiosity. Is he a Master of the Order? If so, I shall have to meet this man one day. Very seldom does one form the title of madness among the Sith, and by the blood running through your veins, such high praise by one of Pureblood. I was under the impression that your kind was extinct, but seeing you here, let's just say it brings an old soul joy to know that my impression was wrong." Oni turns, presenting Camik. "Forgive my manners. This is my Apprentice, Camik Rhonik"

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Oni gazed upon the Sith Lord from beneath his own mask, watching his facial expressions, movements, and hearing his words. Observant, was he, the demon that was Lucas Chism also known as Darth Oni, or so was the names he carried. But that was for a different day and a different story to tell. For now, Oni smiled, removing his own Mask and revealing the blonde locks that hid themselves beneath, his brown gaze revealing a rather kindred heart within the beast if the Massassi chose to look within them.

 

"Forgive my Apprentice's silence." Oni spoke in jest, placing a palm upon the Cathar's shoulder with a humble grasp, much like a father would in pride of his son. "He's not too happy with me at the moment. A former slave does not like being required to wear a collar once more, but a lesson is a lesson. he must learn to live with things that anger him, just as with any emotion, lest it control him to the point of savagery."

 

"It is necessary to feel emotion, but not let it control you." Oni spoke, turning momentarily to Camik as he gave one last bit of advice. "Emotions can empower you, strive you forward even in the most dire of moments. But once it takes you over completely, you become a hindrance and complication to yourself and your allies as much as your foes. The Darkness is a double edge sword in most cases, as deadly to yourself as much as it is to your enemies. This is why I urge you to express yourself, yet, retain your composure. Do you understand Camik?"

 

Oni sat in silence for a moment, allowing Camik to think on his words and granted Akheron a moment to offer any input he wished before he continued.

 

"Indeed Lord Akheron. There will be ample opportunity for us to fight side by side. I feel it in the winds." Oni spoke, a humble smile crossing his face. "And like you, I find allies and friends to scarce these days, especially among our brethren." His mind momentarily turned toward Nurgle, Ki, and Haphaestus causing his eyes to briefly glaze onyx. "But no, I will not receive your hand of friendship, Lord Akheron, but rather your hand as a brother. I can sense nobility in you, and even perhaps honor, true signs of a Warrior. This pleases me." And Oni meant his words whole heartily. There was something about this warrior before him, that gave Oni a sense of fellowship. Only time would tell if Oni had placed his faith rightfully, this time at least.

 

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R.I.P. Nanny (6/3/1941-1/9/2012)

R.I.P. Papa (2/14/1936-2/7/2012)

R.I.P. Big Mike (5/12/82-11/9/2012)

~Revelations 21:4 (KJV)~

 

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Meanwhile, another GA captive is brought forth before the Dark King Exodus and placed on knees before the Sith Sovereign, his green eyes blindfolded and his long silver locks of hair identifiable by two names. Once known as Scorpio Armegedon GA Lieutenant and former Jedi Knight and once known as Anakin Starkiller former Sith Lord trained under Lord Furion, a long outstanding warrant for his death and execution having lingered upon his head with extreme measures, issuer unknown.

 

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Galactic Alliance Lieutenant(Acting)/Former Jedi Knight(Self-Exiled)

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Oni smiled at Lord Akheron's words, finding a sense of solace within them as he spoke, for none truly understood the Darkside better than those whom were born from it; The Tsis. Bowing as the Tsis took his leave, Oni turned to his still silent Apprentice, searching for the young Cathar's feelings and wondering on his next steps in his training. Thinking back to his duel with the Dark King's own Apprentice, Oni had noticed a few flaws. But these flaws were due to Oni's own inexperience and held no fault over Camik. For the former Apprentices of Oni were like he, Alcazarin's, and thus held power over the Force where as Camik relied on it naturally. Oni had grown too used to the benefits of being Alcazarin that he overlooked the basis of the Sith foundation, and that fault alone laid with him. A fault he would soon rectify as Camik's words came across his ears, this time noticing the difference behind the feel of the Cathar's words and finding a sense of pleasure know that his words had been taken to heart. Yet, if he was going to train Camik in the ways of the Sith, he needed to be a Sith, something comforting in that thought as Oni finally managed to push Exodus' words from his mind.

 

With a humble smile Oni went to speak, before he could, a local parcel carrier approached, and with him, a familiar presence he could not quite place at first. "A package? for me?" I questioned, unsure whether to sign or not, but did so anyways. "Yes sir" The parcel carrier spoke, a little fearful of being in my presence, although as to the why, he wasn't quite sure. Oni had never been to Onderon before. "Directed to a Lord Oni of the Sith by care of Sith Palace. The receptionist told me there is where I could find you." With a half hearted chuckle, unsure as to why or how, I took the package and tossed a credit to the carrier. "You've got me." And with that, he disappeared as quick as he came, the presence he felt earlier remaining rather than leaving perplexing me even more. Cautiously Oni opened it.

 

The parcel definitely wasn't his, Oni recognizing this as soon as he had opened it. A few bags of caf beans, a bottle of fine rum, which by the way Oni pocketed right away, and some silken Robes. But what laid beneath the silken robes puzzled Oni the greatest, a holocron unlike he had ever seen before, smaller than most, with designs he did not recognize. Cautiously reaching in to pick it up, Oni was struck with a vision, the outside world oblivious to this. There, on Mechis III, sat Aryian Darkfire discussing philosophy with a being shadowed in black, six wings protruding from it's slender form as words mumbled forth from the grotesque and decaying being, his words mimicking the exact words Oni had once spoke to Aryian years ago when he tried to recruit the hermit to Nurgle's cause. Yet, this being was not Oni, nor could it be. Oni's mind quickly freed it's self from the vision, but words echoed in his thoughts as he planted the holocron into his pocket and grabbed the robes as he stood up. The words were simple, yet complex and riddled, and yet Oni couldn't help but find them familiar. "The Lord of the Black Death was never meant to exist, the Diathim's soul forever tainted by the Maelibus."

 

Confused, Oni turned toward Camik, subconsciously observant of what had just transpired and the presence he felt from the holocron now being felt in a distance, sadness washing over him. He knew now that Aryian Darkfire was on Onderon, his holocron now in Oni's possession, and that death laid imminent for his old friend, the gray Master accepting this fact which put Oni at a crossroads. Oni cared for his old friend, yet was loyal to the Sith despite his wish to rush to action. If he could, he would tear through and rescue Aryian was he free to do so. But Aryian's acceptance, and Oni an obvious part to play later down the road, he withdrew himself, accepting his friend's wishes and contemplating whatever they may have been. And to add more to the pyre was this vision, uncoincidental. Whatever it all meant, would be shown in time. For now, there was a path to follow, and the Force would reveal all when it felt it was time.in Silence, Oni said his goodbyes to Aryian, his gaze staring directly in his direction.

 

"You have grasped the basic concept of the Force, Camik, yet now it is time to know more. I know that you have your heart set on combat, but before you can be effective in it, you must hone the basic skills and ready yourself. Follow me." Oni spoke before jumping upward, the force propelling him high above the city as he leapt from footing to footing aside the Palace walls, his speed and grace a mere blur to onlookers gazing upon his sight. "Keep up with me if you can."

 

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R.I.P. Nanny (6/3/1941-1/9/2012)

R.I.P. Papa (2/14/1936-2/7/2012)

R.I.P. Big Mike (5/12/82-11/9/2012)

~Revelations 21:4 (KJV)~

 

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I flinched in fury as the nails were drove into my skin and muscle, my gaze unfaltering upon the beasts that bound me, blood and spit spewing from my mouth as the beasts butted my face with the hilts of their weapons in my defiance. My composure was all but gone, and I could feel Anakin within me beginning to stir, or rather, the darkness he once stood for. My breathing shallow in my struggle, my blood infuriating me at the mere sight of it, I struggled against my bindings, trying to free myself from the nails that pierced me, uncaring about the muscles and tendons that tore as I squirmed. By now I was nothing more than mere beast, and as Exodus appeared, my strife only grew that much more stronger.

 

My gaze shifted from the Spider toward Aryian, a Jedi I had never formally met, yet knew his story all too well. Public Knowledge of it at least. Husband of Armiena Draygo, a Master I had long ago met upon the Eternal Vigilance and was nearly Apprenticed to, their exploits against Faust, their unbridled love for each other, they were beings of Legend. Yet, as he spoke, I could sense the sadness and acceptance in his voice, and despite the disheartening feeling that washed over me, my gaze shifted back toward the Spider.

 

"Exxxxxxxoooooooddddddduuuuuusssssss!!!!!!" I growled with nearly all my strength, so much that my head felt as if it split in two, the feeling of the blood rushing to my cheeks and forehead causing my vision to momentarily flash red and blur, yet my gaze was one of hate and if looks could kill alone, then the Spider would have exploded before my eyes as I wished it. "I shall have your head just as I claimed Furion's. Make no mistake Spider, you will one day feel this Scorpion's sting."

 

But alas, despite my struggle and strife, this was my last day of life, and somewhere deep down, I knew it. I just refused to accept it. And even as my gaze shifted about, it stayed fearless even through the onslaught of rotting consumables that were thrown at my face for my spoken words and the barrels of oil that were laid before our feet and death became imminent, soon coming to rest upon the Spider's Apprentice (Telperien). Like a cornered animal with eyes that refused to accept death, I gazed upon her as if I could pierce her soul, and hauntingly enough, grinned.

 

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Galactic Alliance Lieutenant(Acting)/Former Jedi Knight(Self-Exiled)

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  • 2 weeks later...

Atop the Palace, Oni stopped, jumping across toward a singular bastion and kneeling as he awaited his pupil. This would be where Camik would begin his formal training, a place that Oni had chosen specifically for its distance and purpose, a means of separating the two and teaching this lesson. But first, Camik needed to truly touch the Force. Not through battle, or through his emotions, but to truly touch it. Holding his hand up to stop Camik as he reached a position across from Oni, it was time.

 

"While it's true that you've touched the Force Camik, now is the time you learn to wield it." Oni spoke, his tone serious, yet tender as he remained kneeling. "Most of our brethren learn by action and reaction during battle and sparring, and while it works, it is slow and enduring. But what I'm about to teach you, although a faster, is deeper and enables more control. Sit."

 

Oni motioned Camik to sit upon the walk across from him, as he removed his mask and closed his eyes. "Do as I do. Close your eyes and clear your mind. Focus on your breathing and let your senses grow numb and quiet as you open yourself up to the Force." Oni did just as he spoke, clearing his mind and focusing himself on quieting his senses, a simple task for himself, but possibly challenging for his pupil. "Now reach out with your senses in the Force. Let it travel about you. Take in the smells and sounds that surround you, and then go farther. Let your mind drift away from us and out toward the city. Feel for the emotions of the everyday people.

 

As Camik did this, Oni studied the far off happenings around his old friend Aryian, and noticing another he had met once before, a sense of sadness entering his heart. Despite being on opposite sides, there was a sense of respect held for both. Returning to the task at hand, Oni turned his gaze within the Force back upon the Cathar. "Feel their pain, their hatred, their greed, their anguish, and feed upon it. Let it empower you."

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Oni sat there, settling his mind, his emotions as the demon within him struggled to free its self. His whole life, as he knew it, was nothing but a lie, his trust preyed upon by those who knew how to exploit it and use it against him, nearly branding him a traitor amongst his brethren. It did not sit well within him. With a deep breath, his exhale long and subtle, he fought hard to quell the emotions boiling within him. For this exercise was not only to Camik's benefit, but his own as he took the time to reflect upon Exodus' revelation. The Alcazarin were traitors, and he, by association.

 

"Because it focuses the mind and body rather than draw from one's hatred and emotion. Some consider it weakness, a feeble and misguided lesson as to draw strength from the Force rather than one's will to dominate the Force." Oni spoke in reply to his pupils question, reeling in his self focus and watching Camik as he made his own attempt, following Camik's progress as he ventured outward and pushing his mental limits past the brink, watching the reactions and hastening of the emotions the young Cathar fed upon. As Camik would feed, the emotions of those he feasted upon would only grow stronger in reaction, and as such, the darkness around them would grow. "But this is not true. Meditation does settle the mind and calm the body, but the intent behind it is what determines its nature. Light and Dark are choices, not predispositions of nature. Such is the heart of all sentient beings."

 

As he spoke these words, Oni opened his eyes and gazed down at the pyramid shaped holocron, remembering the words Aryian has once discussed with him about the nature of the Force. It words held some solid truth to them. If a person's heart delved into the darkness, then darkness they would become, just as they would had the chose to delve into the light. No matter which abyss one chose to stare into, it would always end up staring back, one or the other. Such was the nature of the beast. And in his right hand, Oni tightly gripped the Darkmetal Mask he had forged upon Almas, remembering his time under Nurgle or Darth Dominus. How foolish was he to not see, to not recognize their intentions? It was there all along, the secrecy, the bonding, the intent hidden behind words of unification and shedding the past feudal eras of the former Sith. They never meant just for themselves, but rather as a whole, the means of achieving it by destroying the snake's head and destroying the Order that remained.

 

"How could I have ever been a part of that?" Oni questioned himself in silence as he briefly observed the transpiring executions taking place a distance away, a singular tear pouring down his face as he felt the lives ebb away in a searing heat. "Exodus is righteous in his belief, working from the inward out, not the outward in. If change must come in order to strengthen and resolve the Order, then one must become the head of that snake in order to shed its skin and rebirth anew. That is how it should be done.

 

But Oni had sat there contemplating for far too long and quickly turned back toward his pupil, his hand lifting upward and reaching outward toward Camik, guiding the young Cathar with his mind. As he touched Camik's mind, the young one would feel his immense power, yet notice its calm and composed nature. There was no hatred, no wrath, no hint of emotion; only power. It did not wrestle with the flow of the Force, but rather rode upon it, going with its flow and steering it when need be. Much like riding a wild animal in jeans of taming it natural, letting the animal becoming accustomed to his weight and presence. This was Camik's lesson to learn.

 

In time, it would grow more powerful, but for now, Oni simply taught his pupil the means to the end. With a swift brush of his hand, air gathered underneath Oni and lifted him, the Sith Master's feet gliding down as if stepping off a cart as he stood once again. Now do you understand Camik?

 

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R.I.P. Nanny (6/3/1941-1/9/2012)

R.I.P. Papa (2/14/1936-2/7/2012)

R.I.P. Big Mike (5/12/82-11/9/2012)

~Revelations 21:4 (KJV)~

 

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

As Exodus' words rolled off his vipered tongue, I lunged forward, hawking a pool of spit and sinus drainage in his direction, drool drizzling down my face as I stared upon Furion's former Master in disgust. Even as he poured the liquid from the casked vile into my form, my state did not linger. No. I knew who he was. I knew what he stood for. And even if it meant my death this day, he would have no satisfaction. Feeling the tendrils of the liquid coursing across my form, I simply stared, fighting back the pain I felt.

 

But suddenly a sensation swept across me, a certain high creeping through my mind. I could not tell whether or not it was the liquid he had splashed across my face and chest earlier, or if something within me long thought devoured had returned in this moment of darkness. For within seconds, my conciousness faded and another within me awoke, a subtle hint as darkness swept across the construct where I was chained and it aimed its self at Exodus. It was a presence, not one he would find particularly familiar, but a hint of former pupil Furion lingered within. Even without the Force, that subtle hint would be noticable.

 

"Ahahahahahahaha!" A manical laughter erupted from within my form as the presence took full possession, a subtle yet noticeable reaction by the bronzed troopers startled by this outburst as they poured forth the fluid in quantities, the laughing growing wilder as they did. The presence seemed as if beastly, uncaring and feeding upon the pain it was being inflicted. It reveled in the intoxication of the moment, drinking in the moment as if its thirst knew no quench. And as Exodus bowed before him, his blade in hand, the presence locked eyes with the Dark King, a grin stretching from ear to ear, as if already knowing the outcome.

 

"Mēs jūs nolādējam, grēka dēls" The being spoke, his voice as hollowed and demonic as was his gaze, as his eyes pierced the veil that separated the two beings, the smile ever present, even as the flames enveloped them. "kā tavs skolēns, jūs izmantojat to, ko jūs sējat"

 

 

"Mēs jūs nolādējam, grēka dēls" "We curse you son of sin"

"kā tavs skolēns, jūs izmantojat to, ko jūs sējat" "like your pupil, you will reap what you sow"

 

 

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Galactic Alliance Lieutenant(Acting)/Former Jedi Knight(Self-Exiled)

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Oni smiled at his pupil's words, the understanding that flowed from the Cathar's lips echoing of his growth. It pleased the Sith Master that Camik was finally beginning to understand, to grow. Now it was time to apply that understanding, time for Oni to test and grade his pupil on what he has learned, and see if the Cathar truly grasped the knowledge given so freely. Oni spoke, his tone humbled, yet echoing a sense of excitement as he stepped down from his perch toward the ground meters below, his words trailing behind him. "Then let us test it."

 

With an explosion of air, Oni landed safely upon the ground below as he crouched to soften the landing after gathering the air around him to slow his decent. Rising, he awaited his Apprentice, a smile still across his face. Today would mark the first of Camik's trials, something most would believe to be too soon. But Oni was unorthadox, he chose to go against the grain rather than with it, and if Camik lacked anything, it was always best to catch it early rather than later. Plus, in truth, the distraction would do the Master some good as well. Once Camik arrived, Oni would begin.

 

******************************************

 

The air that day was brisk, a calm, yet constant breeze blowing across the landscape and snaking through the mazed streets. Oni stood before Camik, his gaze serious yet confident, his smile smirked yet humbled, his blonde locks swaying in the breeze. Taking off his trenchcoat and breastplate, Oni tossed them aside along with his weapons, and slowly raised his fists. With a simple chuckle, Oni darted.

 

First of his attacks were simple tests of Camik's reactions. Oni quickly closed the gap between the two, forcing the Cathar to confront him in close quarters as he threw a barrage of punches, following quickly with a few sturdy kicks, using their momentum to spin and following one with the other. Oni knew Camik was capable of defending himself against these, but there were purposes behind them. And as Camik would certainly retaliate, Oni would momentarily distance himself for his next barrage.

 

Like before, Oni would throw simple punches and kicks, though this time at a distance. To most, it was appearing as if he was punching and kicking thin air, but if Camik or anyone would look and feel through the force, they would notice the translucent waves leaving his form and taking aim at the Cathar with precision as the air continuously swirled about the Sith Master, Oni nudging the Force that flowed about him and through him here and there to redirect it's natural current. This would be where Camik's true test would lay. Could he defend? Could he retaliate? These were the questions Oni wanted answered. Oni wanted to know if Camik possessed the potential to move forward, or would he require more study? Watching attentively, Oni gauged the young Cathar's progress, making mental notes as the two sparred.

 

((1))

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Oni smirked as Camik began to push forward toward his position, using the force to aid in his defense. This was good. Oni was pleased that his pupil was beginning to see that the Force was more than just a weapon, yet a weapon none the less. And by going with its flow rather than swimming against it's current, he was beginning to see its ease in control. This please the warrior more than his pupil could view. But Oni had more to teach the young Cathar, and as he felt Camik begin to search his presence, Oni shut himself off completely. Camik would hear no thoughts, nor feel any emotion being emitted from his Master, a lesson Oni felt he needed to understand. If this was a real fight, Camik wouldn't have such an advantage.

 

"You're doing well Camik, but it won't be that easy." Oni teased in jest as he dogged his pupil's onward advance, throwing up a force enveloped barrier as the concentrated barrage nearly clipped the Sith Master in surprise. "I'm glad you're taking it to heart that the Force is your greatest weapon and aid, but if you wish to best me, you'll need to use more than just the Force."

 

Oni hadn't expected the barrage of concentrated energy, but it still pleased him all the same. But now it was time to step up his game just a little more. Camik was beginning to grasp his ability to wield the Force, but it wasn't his only available means of defense more offense. And Oni I tended to teach his pupil just that. Without the Force's aid, Oni and Camik were likely on similar level of strength, though Oni would likely possess a greater amount of speed, which Oni intended to use to his advantage. Coming out of his last dodge, Oni pivoted on his left foot, spinning his direction toward his pupil, and in a blur of force guided speed, nearly cleared the gap between the two in less than two blinks of the eye, a translucent gaunlet of force embued strength aiding his fist as it connected with Camik's jaw and sending the Cathar flying backwards. He wasn't for sure if Camik was able to lessen the impact or slow his flight using the Force, but Oni sought to see if Camik could learn on the move.

 

Unrelentless, Oni took no time in chasing his pupil's flying form, relying on the Force to fuel his kicks and punches rather than using them to simply direct the waves of energy like he threw before, this time showing Camik that it can be used in close quarters just as easily as at a distance. Using his feet, knees, fists, and elbows, Oni kept up his assault, gauging not only the Cathar's means of defence, but expecting his own attacks the few times Oni's attacks 'purposely' missed their targets. He wanted the Cathar to not only learn, but prove himself capable.

 

"Hit me with your best shot Camik." Oni spoke, a heartily chuckle erupting from behind the heavy breathing, sweat pouring down his face and dripping from upon the corner his devilish smirk as the two sparred relentlessly. "The Force, like a river, can be guided and turned if you place the proper obstacle to redirect it. Your arms, hands, legs, feet, joints, gaze, can redirect its flow and dam it up if you chose to. It takes concentration at first, but as you grow, so will your strength redirect it."

 

((2))

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Oni found his pupil's ferocity pleasing as his assault grew more defined and empowered. This is what he had intended, a combination of both physical and metaphysical, used in joint effort in a sole attack. Truly the Cathar was a fast learner, and his skill growing as time passed. While it was true that Camik had much more to learn, he had come alot farther than what Oni had met that day upon Korriban. And it was pleasing to know that he could still teach the basics. The rest would have to be learned through doing and growing, ICly and OOCly. Taking guard upon each attack thrown, Oni continuously nudged the Force around him until a cyclone of energy surrounded him. With a final nudge, the onslaught flew forth and would twirl the Cathar around and around as it lifted him from his feet and swept him away.

 

"Good job Camik." Oni spoke, his tone full of pride, a waiting his pupil to stand. "Grant me your hand, Apprentice, so that I may collect a portion of your blood."

 

Once the portion was extracted, Oni would bring forth a vile of what appeared to be onyx liquor, swirling thick. It wouldn't take much effort, but a little of it mixed with the Cathar's blood in his closed palm would heat, harden, solidify, and cool with a few minutes of deep concentration until a crystal was all that remained, Camik's blood still swirling within the darkened liquid. Looking at his pupil, Oni spoke a few words before walking off. "My gift to you for passing the first of your trials. You've shown that you have Mastered the basics of Force control, but next comes what symbolizes us, a lightsaber of your own. The crystal I've forged for you is formed from liquid darkmetal, containing your blood and essence. It will only empower you, and you alone."

 

Oni would lead Camik to a workshop near the Palace where parts were typically bought and sold as spares, allowing his pupil time to envision what his lightsaber would look like and gather the parts he would use. And if Camik had truly Mastered this Force as Oni suspected, it would symbolize his rise among his brethren. For the lightsaber to be truly flawless, he would need its guidence and knowledge, only something an Apprentice of the Force would be able to divine without prior knowledge. Something Oni himself was forced to do during his own Apprenticeship. Once Camik had collected the parts, Oni would return to the Palace ground, finding a place of meditation for his student.

 

"Now is your moment of truth. You've felt the Force steer and guide you, you've felt its touch and its depth. In order to truly forge yourself a lightsaber, you will need to let it show you the way. Open yourself up to its will, and let it forge the path that it wills you to walk. That is the truth of the lightsaber and its meaning. Not only as a weapon, but what kind of weapon. Such defines the wielder."

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"Good, you've been paying more attention than I thought." Oni spoke with a smile, glancing over the weapon, taking note of a potential flaw in its design, nothing Oni could teach Camik to compensate for. " While Darkmetal does draw upon the user's life force, you have little to worry about here. By infusing the liquid around a crystal forged from your own blood, I've endured that it only responds to yours alone, and with what little was used, you won't feel any of the effects. Using the Force will take more out of you than what laces the crystal.

 

With that, Oni activated the lightsaber, showing that it did not react to him like the Mask he wore did, the force flowing around him in its usual fashion, the purple hue glowing against his white skin with red shades defining his features. "There is one small flaw to your choice in the saber's style." Oni spoke, pressing the second button just as Camik had done and releasing its extension, placing his hand upon the ejected pile as if he was going to use it. "But not a fatal one."

 

Nudging the force's path through his form, Oni directed it toward the extended hilt through his arm and hand, the ejected hilt beginning to darken as currents of red static began to form and dissipate across its unsheathed form. "You can make anything impervious to the strike of a lightsaber simply by apply its protection. However, this takes away from your ability to defend yourself while in combat and forces you to solely rely on your skill with the saber. So, only use the extension if you need the reach, and train yourself for the times you will need it."

 

Returning the deactived saber to his pupil, Oni turned as a courier managed to find his way toward the two, Oni's thoughts turning toward another mistakened package save for this man wore the uniform of the Sith. Before he could even manage to utter a word, the man clearly out of breath, handed over a datapad. "Forgive me Lord Oni, but we've had trouble location you and your apprentice."

 

"Fret not." Oni spoke, raising his hand as he read the datapad thoroughly, realizing the significance of it and tossing it back to him. "I thank you for your diligence... Camik, come, we must go. Looks like you're about to recieve you first chance at testing the lightsaber."

 

And like that, in a mist of pure darkness, Oni had disappeared into thin air as he headed toward the departing ships. Camik only had to follow his Master's presence, and only he was allowed.

 

((Jumping ahead to Kuat. Follow however you will.))

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  • 8 months later...

The roar of the ship's frame groaned as it settled within its confines, alerting Neo from his meditations that they had arrived. Peering from behind one opened eye, Neo's brown gaze fell upon Skoll and Hati whom had taken up residence around their Master. With a brush of his gloved hand against their fur, they rose and allowed Neo to rise himself as they drew toward the chamber's door. Onderon awaited his return and those in which he had brought with him. Much seemed to have changed since he was last here, the darkness of his kinsmen seeping into the planet's very core as he made his way toward the ship's center and ramp, its power flowing upon the very breeze that slipped in as the ramp was lowered, revealing the rain that poured down upon Iziz's surface. Pulling the cloak over his head, Neo departed, the Forja Sitmyr following.

Where the being once known as the Demon of the Sith once strolled, now a different kind of beast now walked amongst the streets of Iziz with three rows of two Massassi at his back, their Tuk'ata held back only by chain and strength as the hounds snarled and gaped at onlookers as Skoll and Hati walked beside their Master in obedient silence. Past the Palace where he and Camik once trained, past the gardens where he recieved Darkfire's Holocron, Neo walked, distant memories of a dead disease now washing away with the rain. Neo only stopped briefly to gaze toward the Dragon's Gate where he felt his old friend perish before a familiar presence crept down his spine and drew his attention toward the large dark spire looming in the distance. He smirked as he turned toward it, uttering only a handful of words to himself. "The Dark King certainly retains his own sense of style."

With each step that was taken, the puddled darkness splashing beneath his own presence, Neo watched as the Spire grew in its enormous size, a beacon of the Spider's reach toward the heavens an ever reminder. As he made his final approach toward it's darkened doors, the sentries station outside stopped Neo in his tracks. The red skinned Massassi behind Neo grew uneased at such an insult, but Neo simply raised his hands and removed the hood of his cloak to reveal the braided silver locks and stern brown gaze before placing his hands upon Skoll and Hati whom sat at his command. A smirk still gracing his face, Neo shifted his gaze toward the Spire's top before returning it to the Sentries before him. "Inform the Dark King that the Demon of the Sith is dead, and that the true Sith Master has returned."

And with that, Neo awaited his King's call.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Neo only nodded his head as the sentry acknowledged him, raising his hand once more for the Forja Sitmyr to remain above as he descended into the depths of the spire, only Skoll and Hati allowed to follow him within. As the three departed, the rows of Massassi would remain in formation, their Tuk'ata hounds bound to them as they stood in obedient silence.

 

The trek into the underworld of the Dark King's labyrinth reminded the Sith of his roots, delved so deeply into the darkness that only the light of fire illuminated its reach. And the great Spire's reach delved as deep into Onderon as did it to the heavens above. Yet, now Neo walked it's great length alone, surrounded only the faithful companions he had forged in Hati, a black Tuk'ata with crimson eyes, and Skoll, a white Tuk'ata with azure eyes. As for Neo, his silver hair only emphasized the brown void of his own playful nature as he descended the depths, its flow upon the wind only mocking the flow of the Force as it vortexed the Spire.

 

"Exodus..." Neo spoke, a youthful but drawn voice etched out as he appeared before the chosen Sith'ari. His gaze shifted about, noticing the training room the two stood in, a training room built for Assassins, a smirk still adorning his face. He suspected that his new, or rather original, look may require a retake upon first glance, but the powerful presence that emanated from him was obliviously familiar. Even if Exodus didnt know the face, he would know the presence. Raising his hand, Skoll and Hati sat, each one taking up posts at the opposing door frames as Neo stepped into the room before his only true brethren still remaining, both students of the same Master. "Its been awhile brother."

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Darkness.... it was a symphony that Neo had been familiar with for too long, especially during his time as Darth Oni. But Oni was more beast than man, and was therefore nothing more than a wasted talent. No, the being that stood before Exodus was the man behind the beast, the puppet master upon which Oni had drawn upon to achieve his sentience. But now Neo was free of the parasite, unchained and unbound, able to forge his own path. And he had already began to walk it. 

 

"I have cast aside the foul name of Darth." Neo spoke as the shadows around him danced within the dimly lit room, each flicker of flame a symbiotic glow upon the shadows that clung around it, aching to snuff it out. As Neo knelt before his brother, his gaze never wavered from the visage before nor did the smile cease, Skoll and Hati sniffing the air behind him a mere minor detail. "I go by the name I was given at birth, Neo Krell.

 

There was no need for any explaination, nor was one given as Neo remained knelt. His convictions remained the same just as did his power, the static of electricity that resonated across his form in small numbing jolts as Neo pulled the Force inward into his form speaking volumes alone. No, Neo Krell was a soldier of the Sith, a Master of the Force. There was nothing that needed to be said. Not even of Oni's defeat and cleansing at the hands of the Imperial Exorcist at Kuat. It was a loss, and one Oni had paid for with his existence. Even as the fur that dressed the innards of his robes rose and clung to his form, Exodus would see the true Master before him, the man that resided within the beast, the one who held the truest control over the spirit. In a singular sentence, Neo voice only one concern. "What lays ahead brother?"

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Neo remained kneeling as Exodus spoke, his words and strife in Neo understandable to say the least. But Neo had lived a life much more different, and yet the same, as Exodus did. Where Darth held honor and prestige for Exodus, it held disdain and corruption for Neo. From his tutelage under Nurgle to his defeat at Kuat, it had became a badge of treachery and civil war for him.

 

"Forgive me brother, but the title of Darth leaves nothing but a sour taste in my mouth." Neo speaks as his brother, his King makes his way toward him. "Since you revealed the true purpose of the Alcazarins, I have done nothing but want to rid myself of everything from those days."

 

And so Neo had, from collapsing the fortress on Almas to forging a new path among the Massassi, he wouldn't stop until everything that remained of the Alcazarin was gone. He would see its existance wiped from the Galaxy forever. 

 

"My defeat at Kuat was unexpected. But I held no knowledge that the Exorcists of old still remained. But such was the weakness of Oni, of the disease that plagued me, more beast than sentient." Neo spoke in return, not offering up excuses, but the truth of what happened. Oni had only ever been a hindrance, a nuisance. Neo was glad to finally be rid of the beast. Even more so when Exodus' threat came across his ears. "If that day comes, I will end myself for you. For my loyalty lies with the Sith, even if it means ending you in the same manner." 

 

Neo let his gaze settle upon Exodus' own, piercing the mask that hid his visage with subtle conviction as he made perfectly clear his loyalty. Exodus was a great King, a great Dark Lord. But should he ever falter or show weakness, much like upon himself, he will end the life willingly. Exodus would have no reason to doubt. 

 

"If you need proof, brother, you have but to ask."

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Days had passed since Exodus questioned Neo's loyalty, and yet, here he sat, perched upon the Castle's top as he gazed out across Onderon. Below him were the Forja Sitmyr, as well as Skoll and Hati, patiently awaiting his return as he gathered himself and focused his mind. He knew why Exodus had questioned him, and in part, he understood it. But the blood that boiled within him refused to be questioned. It was as if his mind and body were torn upon its realization.

 

But as his comm sounded and his orders were recieved, Neo simply smiled. Exodus wanted an answer and now was Neo's chance to reveal it. Standing, Neo pulled upon the Force around him like wind to a hawk's feathers and fell forward toward the Forja Sitmyr. And as he landed, the ground seemed to ripple and roll beneath their feet upon his impact, the Sith Master standing upward with a new sense of pride. 

 

He smiled.

 

It wouldn't take long for he and his kin to gather aboard the transport that had brought them to Onderon nor for it to reach the Black Scarab. But this journey was different. Neo had something to prove to his brother. He needed to show Exodus why his loyalty should never be questioned again.

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