Karys Narat iv-Adas

Akheron observed with the acute eyes of a hawk, locking onto his prey. Another smile gripped the hunter's lip as the ground toiled and cracked sending a wave of dirt and debris towards Solus, although he had somehow managed to survive and now laid in a large crater where once was snow and ice mixed with ash. Stuck under what remained of the ship from his previous assault. Having failed to kill him, his anger grew further into the conductive loop, making his strikes even heavier. If not for his effort of throwing a piece of metal at his master, the wayward apprentice would of perished there and then. Instead he was given a slight reprieve. Having to adjust his tactics, Akheron moved his Rage and Wrath in the Darkness to Push the metal plate towards his apprentice, the forces exerted, adding to the plates own as he saw him leap towards him. In a last valiant effort to end his master. It was Akheron's attempt at knocking both the lightsaber or him out of the air, and bring either him or both to the ground. To his arena, his surgery. For who was he but not a surgeon upon the battlefield, and all were his patients ripe for the picking. A place of Death. Following this, Akheron sped forwards his speed dwarfing his apprentice as he put almost everything into it, as he ran at a Rapacious Pursuit. A backup just in case. Hoping to get ahead of the wayward apprentice. It was time to end the charade and bring his humiliation to it's conclusion. As his apprentice stretched out his hand, Akheron attempted to remove it and the arm with the loaned lightsaber as he drew closer. In one piece or two, it didn't matter to him. Carving a path diagonally upwards where he thought the arm would be next. For close quarters was his speciality and he would get as close as he could to inflict the pain he desired to bring upon his prey. The final crescrendo would be a series of short ranged telekinetic grapples or Chwit’Jen’Itsu. Ones that utilised attacking with rapid joint hyperextension and lightning fast throws aimed at disrupting his opponent. And Akheron knew his apprentice was vulnerable. Perhaps enough to enact the technique. He would soon see. For if a success he would smash his apprentice into the ground and in that way humiliate him. As he was left for dead. ((3 - Good show Solus, really enjoyed it. Let's see if you did enough to pass the test. )) ((Akheron has attempted to defend against the metal plate by launching it back at Solus in a attempt to knock either him, the lightsaber or both out of the air with a powerful Force Push. Followed this up by use of the Rapacious Pursuit technique within the Warrior guide and a slice at the scomp link/arm followed by a final attempt at the technique of Chwit’Jen’Itsu also within the same guide hoping to overwhelm him with the speed of the technique.))

Akheron laughed almost as if to mock his opponent and as if he were simply toying with his apprentice, as he struck at the metal attempting to slice him apart. Or at least maim him, for he held no intention to kill his wayward apprentice, only to make him suffer. To humiliate and humble him in the face of the Darkness and prove how wrong he was. He would bleed the arrogance from him. With each strike he drew closer to his objective, forcing Solus backwards and showing how much of a gap of knowledge there was. Showing him that to underestimate a Sith Warrior was to invite doom upon yourself. He was however impressed by his tenacity and determination under such circumstances, even despite the inevitable fate that would await him should he fail. It was as the final strike nearly cleaved him in two that the hallucination took hold. Albeit not straight away. For the Master of Darkness was well versed in suffering from illusions, hallucinations and all manner of tricks by the many that had tried and failed in his lifetime to try and break his mind. All had failed. All had suffered in torment and had their souls fed to the Fanged God and the Darkness. As the illusion of Tear created by Solus struck at his back, Akheron reacted. Twisting around he struck at it, but after finding no purchase his eyes narrowed as his mind started to adjust, even as the intensity of the Madness of hallucination clawed at his mind like a rake, trying to break his concentration and consume him with the image of Tear, mutated and grotesque, driven by insanity to try and devour. As he tried to strike again, the beast vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Akheron observed and looked about for his real target, for Solus. But found he had used the moment to escape his grasp. At least temporarily. He had to give him credit for the trick, a smile gripped his lip momentarily before his Rage and Wrath returned. Focusing his inner Darkness outwards, he attempted to locate his wayward apprentice. And then he found him, his aura in the Darkness, a Madness driven beacon of shadow and hate. As he cautiously approached he saw the message flickering out, listening he took note. So it was as he suspected, Korriban had fallen like the rest, at least if the recording was to be believed. After All it could just be another trick by his apprentice. Another attempt to draw him in. Whatever the case, he filed the information for later. Now was not the time to consider Korriban. Not right now, in the moment. He grew more angered, his hate roiled out in the Darkness. His apprentice thought it would distract him, instead it only made his Rage and Wrath intensify. Although he could not see his apprentice, he could feel him. And that was enough, he would know what true suffering was, what it was to be a destroyer. A hunter. A Sith. "Impressive apprentice, but you cannot hide forever." He called out as he ran forwards, zig sagging before jumping up into the air, attempting to land behind the remains that his opponent was now crouched behind. Plunging the blade of the lightsaber into ground ground he called forth the Darkness to shatter the very earth beneath Solus feet and consume him within as the ground ruptured and split open underneath like a earthquake seeking to devour him. While he doubted it would kill him, it would divert attention. Or at least that was the intention. A technique used for a simple purpose, to interfere with his footing. A setup. For it was to allow for another strike far more deadly. Advancing, Akheron struck at his apprentice again. This time delivering a un-merciful barrage of blow after blow, with each additional attempt building upon the other intensity. Each was more heavy than the last as he swung and attempted to cut his apprentice apart, like a Sawblade, he struck, his Rage and Wrath growing, adding to his continued frustration and acting like a self sustaining loop of hate. All aimed at his apprentice. ((2)) ((Initially fell for the Tear hallucination from the Ritual of the Wyyrlok. Defended against the illusion, and used a Tremor Impact in the Warrior guide. This was followed by a Sawblade Strike also in the guide.))

Akheron returned another rebuttal. "We shall see, my wayward and consumed apprentice. Show me what you really are, for with me you shall know no mercy within." Akheron could feel his apprentice. His hatred, rage. His Envy and Madness pulsating like a great drum within the Darkness, and within that same madness he could see how he had failed to heed his most important lesson. To not allow yourself to be drawn so deep as to completely lose who you were.and be consumed by the very Darkness he had sought to control. And he had lost control, that much was now evident. Like a young pup he had lost his way and it was up to his master to lead him from going astray. And he would teach him, in the most painful and humiliating way imaginable. He would educate him in the matters of loss and pain, in what it was to be a Sith. To break all chains. The Sith Warrior and Master recalled fresh lessons learnt from his recent loss upon Falleen to the Jedi. He would not advance and follow his enemy, no instead he would draw them into his own trap. As his apprentice attempted to blind him, Akheron reacted quickly, his experience shining through like a beacon, honed senses on a razor sharp edge, poised to strike down any who opposed him. With his coiled hand, he stretched forth with his Rage and to unleash his own wave of Darkness. His mind was numb to all but the cold. No emotions were on display, only a heartless calculus and cold objectivity. A place where compassion or the light feared to tread. This was the state of the Cold Mind. Solus movements became obstacles to overcome and nothing more. As his wayward apprentice and opponent jumped onto the top of the ship, he let loose. Wave after wave of pure blasts born of his internal Darkness ruptured forwards, lifting snow, ice, ash and metal, meant with one purpose. To obliterate and destroy anything in it's chosen path, to crumble anything not bolted down to the ground as the Sith Warrior attempted to Shatter the land and ship. And hopefully the one on top of it. This was a sight unseen by his wayward apprentice previously. A deadly predator, a Hunter seeking his prey. Behind this wall of righteous retribution, Akheron followed. Using the attempt as a mere distraction, a way to get in close and slice at his enemy. With the Speed of the Darkness he advanced, dodged and darted. Drawing ever closer, moving through what little of the ship remained, until he was close enough that he attempted to slice horizontally across his torso before following with another diagonal from hip to neck and head. (( 1 )) ((Used the Sith Warrior technique Shatter, followed by Force Speed and a double hit combination at his torso via horizontal slice and a diagonal at the neck/head area.))

Akheron listened to his wayward apprentice as if he were to a petulant child. How he mocked, belittled and showed his betters such disrespect. And in turn mocked powers beyond his comprehension. The arrogance of youth and inexperience on full display. For in his arrogance he believed he was already superior and free of his chains when he had barely tapped his true potential. He would soon learn how very wrong he was, that he was not quite as transcendent as he believed in his Madness. For Akheron saw him for what he was. Blinded and consumed by the very Madness he had sought to control. He would show him just how much more he had to learn. If he wished for transcendence he would have to earn it, he would not make it easy. He would beg for mercy before the end or see the truth he had been trying to show him. One way or another. Akheron listened as the spectre of Inmortos appeared, making Akheron's declaration holy rite in the face of the Darkness and the Fanged God. For he spoke truth. They were now bound not just in blood but spiritually to carry out the Kaggath. For the Darkness recoiled and answered the call, as even the great beast lurking nearby took notice. Stopping it's assault momentarily. As Solus struck the low baring wall, attempting to crush the Sith Warrior within, Akheron sensed it. His own Darkness alerting him to the fact, and so he acted on instinct. Focusing his Rage and Wrath he stretched out a hand to hold back the tide of rock and debris threatening to encase the Sith. And with Telekinesis he removed those blocking his escape, just enough so he could fit. Squeezing through, he exited along the hallway he had previously traversed. Lightsaber ablaze with crimson to light the path and aid him in teaching his apprentice a lesson of Rage and Wrath. His. And how he would learn. For in his futile attempt at defiance he knew not what he now faced. This was not the Master he knew, but a beast on the hunt. A destroyer set loose to burn and purge his soul of the arrogance he had shown. To show the price of his contempt and hubris, to show him how the Darkness favoured only the strongest. And to conquer Death and defy the Fanged God his soul was to be strong. To be free of another chain. To show him what was possible when you truly let yourself be at one with the Darkness. For even in Death, Akheron had grown stronger. He could feel Solus ahead of him, inside his ship. Yet the Shard had forgotten critical fact. He had taught him everything he knew, he was as a open book. However he did hope he had grown. For even in his righteous Anger he felt Pride at what his apprentice was attempting to do. To try and accomplish what he must to ascend and gain his Lordship. To be recognised by the Darkness for what he was. Just as once he had, long ago now. A price was paid, just as now. Like a great hunter, he stalked his prey. Eyes narrowed as he advanced towards the meeting spot, only the crimson of the loaned blade lightning his way in the dark and bitter cold of the raging storm. He acknowledged it, and felt the return of the necromancer. But kept his focus fixed upon his current objective. And in the gloom he spotted him. The Mad one. His apprentice. Awaiting to be taught a new lesson. He knew there would be traps, he expected as much for his opponent was an Assassin, lacking of honour and the will to fight face to face, unless they could help it. To strike from the shadows, instead of the front. To not see the look in the enemies eyes as they perished, the greatest of all fruits to bare. At least that's how he saw it. For to savour the last look was to see the soul as it descended to feed the Fanged God and the Darkness. And Akheron relished it as much as any Sith Warrior. Would he see such a look upon his apprentice should he perish, he wondered. He would soon see. Lightsaber in hand, he approached cautiously, while his other held back the Darkness. Ready to uncoil like a snake at a moment's notice. He spoke out in rebuttal. "It is you who shall be undone, my wayward apprentice. Let me show you another lesson, and show you the price of such disrespect. For you insult powers beyond your comprehension in your mockery. In your Madness you have been consumed, in the arrogance of youth and inexperience. Face my Wrath, my Rage and know the true power of the Darkness. Let me show you what it is to be a Master of Darkness, a emissary of the Fanged God. If you want me for your prize, come earn it. Come play with the beast within and become the hunters prey of the destroyer of worlds. Let the Kaggath begin." With that he readied himself for whatever happened next. (First official Sith Lord final test/duel Kaggath post is for you Solus, good luck.))

Tayln observed as R.U.I.N appeared to be trying to smash his way to the level below with some urgency. This caught his interest as did the fact Fera, his companion spoke of a power surge...a fact which did not bode well. Pulling up a scanner, he confirmed the readings before placing it back in his pack, it didn't look good at all. A power surge only meant a few things. And by the sounds of it, if the enemy had been stalling as he had suspected himself, then it probably meant they were preparing to evacuate or set off some kind of defence mechanism and bury the building with them inside. He had a strong feeling it was the latter, especially with how vehemently the defence had been stalling. As such he used a rope provided by one of the other troopers and dangled it down the hole before descending after the chaotic war droid who was on a rampage. He ran as fast as he could, trying to catch him up and motioned the Jedi Knight with them to follow, just in case. Besides they might have need of his advanced speed, especially when time was against them. Several other troops followed into the hole behind him, lighting up the area inside the hole and where they had entered before they followed the intelligence operative. Using his old knowledge of the place, Talyn knew there shouldn't be any reason for such a power surge down here. And so it pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He called out to Sanguis. "Go ahead of us. Don't wait up! Use your advanced speed if you must. I have a very bad feeling about that power surge and the stalling tactics. See if you can find the source and stop it, if my suspicions are correct I don't think it bodes well for us. There shouldn't be any reason for such a surge down here. It's like a build up to something...something bad. R.U.I.N is onto something." With that he sped after the droid and ran as fast as his legs would allow, pushing his cybernetic enhancements to the limit.

Akheron heard his apprentice outside, talking to himself again and throwing another insulting accusation. Accusing of heresy, and yet Akheron knew he knew so little still. He would soon learn his error and the cost of throwing such accusations about without knowing the context of the events. How he would suffer but with any luck in his suffering and defeat learn what it was to truly be a Sith. That he would be reminded of the philosophy they followed and that by defying Death and the denying the Fanged God his soul, Akheron was following the Code. By breaking another chain. A fact the Fanged God would be impressed by and acknowledge, for it had not been his true Death. That time had not yet come and only then would the Fanged God get his due. Not before. Opening the door, with caution, Akheron stood defiant and fully armoured before his wayward apprentice. "At least you see some reason, despite your unfounded accusations. You still know so little...for it was through the Baptism of Blood that I live again, a bonus of the ritual you might say. A side effect you too share should you fall. Besides, have you forgotten the unique role the Father of Dust plays? What before I told you? Have you forgotten what it means to be Sith? That we must seek to break all our chains. Death is just another chain broken, one I have done so may times. The Fanged God understands this even if you cannot. The Fanged God would be impressed I have broken such a chain and denied him, at least for now. For the time of final Death is not yet due, only then will he claim my soul and not before. As such no heresy is committed as much as you may in your maddening mind may believe it. But since you insist on carrying out this charade...I offer this." Pausing a moment, Akheron looked beneath his mask about into the very air itself. As he spoke, it was as if a declaration to the Darkness had been called, for he put in motion events that could now not be undone. A inevitable consequence of all that lead them to this moment. "You are correct in that if you wish to advance in Darkness you must defeat me. A trial by fire, a final test. At least the only one that matters before becoming a Master of Darkness. I offer the chance to ascend and settle our dispute through a manner traditional to our ways. I hereby declare and will the Darkness, and any soul within to bare witness to this statement. I challenge you in my capacity as your Master and as a Sith to the ancient rite of Kaggath. A rite you cannot deny less incurring heavy penalties from the Darkness and the Fanged God. A rite long used to settle such disputes but rarely used. If you are unaware of what it is allow me to explain. The rite of Kaggath is one part duel, one part large-scale dejarik-match, and pits Sith against Sith unto humiliation and death. As the challenger I can set the arena, in this case I choose the frozen wastelands of this planet. You shall have no choice but to employ all your skills in a attempt to try and to outwit and outmaneuver myself as your opponent in an attempt to defeat me. Per the rules this must be fought without any kind of outside help, in a direct confrontation. The breach of any rule of the rite will be enforced by execution of any offender, the same applies to any attempts to cheat...strictly enforced by any other Sith not involved in this Kaggath. The Kaggath will reach a conclusion when one side has defeated the other or surrendered, with the triumphant Sith choosing whether to terminate or let your opponent live with the weight of humiliation. To decline is to accept defeat. Do you accept the challenge or accept your current fate? Know that this is the point of no return, after tonight our dynamic changes...forever. For we shall use this Kaggath to see if you are ready for the next stage. To see if the Darkness recognises you as ready. If you accept I will allow you time to prepare and make way o the wasteland. Beyond that your on your own." Akheron awaited an answer, knowing he had no choice really but to accept. He felt the shift in the Darkness around them, as the Darkness itself accepted the rite and recognised the challenge.

Akheron could feel his apprentice intention long before he saw it, his connection to the Darkness and him easily allowing him to know what would happen next. His mind while engulfed in Madness was still easy to read for a Master of Darkness such as he was. As he swiped Akheron dodged with almost minimal effort, his Rage and Wrath threatening to erupt at such a cowardly attack. Or at least that' was how he viewed it, to strike while his back was turned. If he desired Death he would soon have it. His own. As he was about to answer the assault, the primordial beast the trio had spawned from the Darkness and profane ritual, took action. Reaching out to try and ensnare his wayward apprentice and this allowing Akheron a momentary reprieve. Heading forwards, Akheron entered the unlatched door, feeling called inside by something. Something ancient and engulfed in Darkness as if moulded by it and Death's very emissary. After entering, Akheron took the precautionary measure of latching the door after he entered to bar his apprentice from reaching him. From behind the door he spoke, hopefully his apprentice heard it loud and clear. "You would dare strike at me while my back is turned apprentice!? Like a coward. You will have your change apprentice at facing me and settling this dispute...but only when I deem it. Make no mistake, you and I have much to discuss and we will settle this...disagreement. A reckoning is coming mark my words but not yet." At least not until he deemed it. Looking around he moved anything not of value and used it to block the door just in case he opened it. Stacking items up until the door was entirely obscured and securing them via a Tetris like configuration with the Darkness at his command. Hoping that would do it for now, he looked around. It appeared to be some kind of storage facility or armoury. He noted the many obscure and unusual items, most were of no interest at all, while others only vaguely peaked his interest. Science was never his forte. Eventually he draw closer to the source of what he felt. Heading deeper into the room, Akheron descended down a single flight of stairs to a lower level of the facility. Down below, after moving along a dimly lit hallway, there at the end he finally saw what he had felt even as whispers of the Darkness warned of the dangers of approaching it. But approach he did, with caution. Slowly at first, holding the loaned lightsaber Dictum had gifted him close to hand. Within the dark of the room and dim light, he saw at the end of the hallway open up to a larger area. Within he saw it. A single grand pedestal, surrounded by blue flame lit torches, marked with ancient text and seemingly glowing. Approaching the pedestal, still with caution he looked upon it. Drawn to it. Stepping closer, he looked and observed. There up in it sat a most unusual looking armour set. It was a mix of loose plate and mail, and included a face concealing mask. A preference he liked. He could feel the armour, cursed as it was with the profane magic of the Sith. He could feel it trying to leach at his soul, but found only resistance and a unfathomable strength it could not break. A strength born of Darkness. Picking it up, he could feel it stronger now and could see the markings. What he saw surprised him. There upon it in ancient Sith language, was his name inscribed. It then became clear why he had felt it and it's purpose. This was all the doing of the necromancer, of that he was certain. Even if Death he aided Akheron, a fact he would not forget. It was a worthy gift, and he quickly set about replacing the rags he had been wearing. Soon enough and he looked the part of the Sith Warrior he was. Fully encased in armour. Next to wear once it has been, he noted another item of interest. A lightsaber he recognised as belonging to Inmortos himself. He felt something urge him to pick it up, even as fresh blood dropped from it. Yet he wondered how the lightsaber came to be here. Last he recalled Bernon had been holding onto it. Another mystery soon to be solved. Satisfied, Akheron looked around. Deciding to use the opportunity to find components for his new lightsaber when he constructed it. He quickly found them, scattered about and pocketed them for later. He now felt complete and so went back up. From there he would approach the door and set the challenge to his apprentice. If he wanted his life he would force him to do it in a proper way. The traditional way of the Sith to settle such a dispute. Listening to see if Solus remained, he called out. "I will open the door, but I expect no resistance. I wish to discuss a way to resolve our...dispute in a way worthy of a Sith Master and the Darkness. A way I think you will enjoy. You have my word you will not be harmed while we discuss it, I expect the same courtesy, you owe me that at least."

Akheron stood in silence even as his apprentice attempted to belittle and insult him. A vain attempt at his own provocation, playing right into the Sith Master's hand...for all was just as he wanted. Even if the means of achieving it were unexpected. And yet he saw how little the Shard still knew about the true nature of the Sith and indeed the Fanged God, he still had much to learn. Especially in relation to a Father of Dust had with Death and how the Baptism of Blood had exploited that unique connection to assist his resurrection. Yet again would he learn a lesson in that respect. Although he was not a total loss, it seemed he had at least learnt a fundamental truth of the Sith. That to ascend the first steps in Darkness he would need to face his greatest challenge. His greatest rival and challenge his master. But if he wanted to achieve anything he would need to tap and crave the Darkness more than he ever had before. It would require a push, one his master was more than willing to supply. But first a unexpected challenger emerged. It seemed their disagreement would have to wait. The beast the trio of Akheron, Solus and Krath Inmortos had birthed in months past, had come to kill it's fathers and creator. A leviathan birthed of blood, death, madness, wrath and rage. A being born of Darkness and twisted wills. He too fell down a crevice, and beheld the wicked form of his depraved 'son'. Born in part of his blood. He could feel the beings malice, and despite this felt a sense of pride at what it had become. Far exceeding his expectations of the creature. As Dictum yelled out, he awoke from his brief awe and ran as requested. He was not yet prepared for that particular challenge, and so with his will and the Darkness he sprinted but not before feeling something. Something ancient and yet strong in Darkness. Among the hallways as he ran, he briefly stopped as he felt it. Enthralled momentarily by the feeling. He wasn't sure if Bernon had followed or not but he was drawn to this new Darkness. A little further and he found a door, into where he did not yet know. Only he felt Death behind it and the same ancient malice he felt before only stronger. A familiar malice that seemed to speak of Wrath and Rage eternal. Of being moulded by the Darkness. He was intrigued and sought a way to try and enter. No matter the price.

Finally the spirits were vanquished, denied of their prize. Akheron defied them and Death itself, yet again to bring forth his Wrath and Rage upon the galaxy, at least eventually. It seemed more had been asked of him, even as he stood in the bitter cold with his makeshift robe and a unnatural fog seemed to gather with a familiar voice carried up on it. Calling upon him, demanding even. Although he could not be demanded, for he would not be ordered about like some hound. He was Sith. Although it did not mean he would not honour the commitment, he would look after the place as a favour nothing more. Even despite the fact he needed to retrieve his ship. Besides he had another matter to attend too here...albeit his designs had been altered slightly by the disappearance of the necromancer but he would adapt. As they returned to the reality of the real, Akheron felt him. His Apprentice was calling out in the force, the Darkness with his Madness. Threatening to consume them, and yet Akheron resisted as he walked. A unusual sight, for he still stood in the toga he had constructed with a borrowed lightsaber. One he would hold on to, unless asked otherwise and until his own were constructed again. He could feel his apprentice Envy. His Rage was palpable, and his thoughts open. How he viewed what had happened as heretical. How little he knew. A smile crept across his lip, it would be as was needed. He needed to provoke him, to push him past his current limitations. To crave and tap into the Darkness more, and to face the final test of his current trial. This was the perfect opportunity, although after it would forever change their dynamic. He knew that much. For as with all a price would be paid for his ascension. He wondered what Dictum and Bernon would make of it. Bernon most of all for all would be affected. As they ascended and made it to where his apprentice stood. His expression was plain and devoid of emotion, yet his presence in the Darkness spoke volumes. He spoke. "My apprentice. Tell me were you successful in your endeavour? Did you secure what was asked and accomplish the task I set. Show me your proof and I will begin the next step."

As Akheron waited he found his request swiftly answered before he was forced to use his fists, thankfully a scenario averted. For that would do little against such enraged wraiths, intent on returning him to the realm of Chaos and the Fanged God's grasp, even though it was through him and his conduit Krath Inmortos that he had been returned. Not that the undead spirits cared...they sought to return that who they thought a escaped prisoner. But Akheron would not be returned so easy, not when he was not yet done with the galaxy. He felt his apprentice, and used his presence as a guide to lead them out of the depths where they stood. Although not before he unleashed his fresh Rage and Wrath upon the wraiths, with the loaned lightsaber which he appreciated. It would be returned after, for he was accustomed to making his own. His own extension to the Darkness. As the first wraith came with wicked intent, Akheron slashed diagonal, knocking it's clawed hands back before slicing at the head, sending him back to the realm of the dead. He continued, his connection to the Darkness strengthening and returning with each swing as his body and mind recalled all he learnt in life. His Wrath and Rage invigorating him once more and moving him past his pain. The thrill and excitement of the combat, evident upon his face. For in this moment was who he truly was. A destroyer of worlds and dark executioner. He was Sith and these spirits would learn that neither they or the Fanged God would control his fate. Yes he would serve him but would always seek to surpass and break free. For his chains were broken, he would not be contained. Taking out another, he noted Inmortos was still, deathly still. As if the ritual had taken alot out of him, which was understandable. Such rituals of Darkness always took a toll, a price. This was no different. As such, Akheron was forced, despite his naked current state to defend the God-King of Damned from retribution as well as himself. At least until he rose to again. From one of the dispatched, he quickly removed what garments he could, wrapping it around like a roman toga. Hopefully enough to cover and conceal his genitalia. He didn't exactly wish for the trio to see anymore than was necessary. Even as a Sith. He looked to Bernon briefly, to see how the younger Warrior faired in a fight against the damned.

At first Akheron saw nothing but the hellscape he had been condemned to suffer by Sandy Sarna, his eternal adversary. Gripping hold of the strong hold Dictum held upon his forearm and locking equally in return, as equals would. He felt the strong pull, like a great hurricane wind attempt to pull him, slowly at first until it built into a crescendo and tore his spiritual, wraith like form towards the six great demonic gates that guarded the suffering and sin-laden eternally damned souls. Holding them all within like a great prison or vault. The demonic entities and ancient Gods guarding it jealously. And yet Akheron was freed from within it's confines, in a way that angered the many souls within. As he was torn, so too did several souls follow with gnashing, gluttonous teeth. Looking to punish the ones who dared defile and break the walls of the damned and free a prisoner without permission. As his physical body started to manifest below the boiling blood filled sarcophagus, his soul soon followed. His Rage and Wrath filled spirit joined with it, his mind momentarily consumed by hallucinations as both Chaos and the Real World collided. Moments later and the fog and haze lifted, his eyes opening as life leapt back into his damaged body. His form now complete, sending acidic blood spewing in all directions as his body emptied the crimson tied from his internal organs. As his spirit entered it's host body, he let out a mighty scream unnatural and gluttural, like a beast was speaking from within. He felt all the pain, indeed he began to savour it as he found life again and felt the bitter cold upon his skin when he attempted to lift himself, only to fall out of the sarcophagus instead. His legs still partially suffering the affects of death upon them. Moments later and after a few breaths, taking in the Darkness once more in the open air his body felt ready to try again. In service to the Sith and the Fanged God, he rose his legs now able to hold their own. At least until he got to a bacta tank. He noted however that the metal that been jutting out was gone, even if the pain remained. It was a unusual experience but one he accepted for now. A price for his return. He noted though that somehow, his prosthetics had also made the transition. Likely a result of the Baptism of Blood he fathomed. A ritual he now saw another value of, for it had assisted his return. Enabled it using the three Sith as a conduit. He also felt a deeper connection to Dictum specifically, as if bound by more than blood. It was akin to a kinship. He would not forget that act. Indeed as a Warrior he had a method to offer equal kinship. Given only to the most respected, he would discuss that a later date with the man and Inmortos. Looking up, he knew it was not over yet. He could hear the wailing and feel the anger of the enraged undead spirits. Coming to collect what was taken. But he would not go back, not now and not yet. Not so soon after his return and not when his work was not yet finished. With that he let himself focus in the Darkness as he spoke, hoping someone at least had a spare robe for now. And a temporary weapon until he could acquire or remake what was lost to Falleen. Despite the chaos below with him, Akheron could also distantly feel his apprentice presence. He wondered what he would make of his return from the grave. Through a method not natural and yet in ways unknown were connected still to the Fanged God. At least he thought so. For such a ritual was well within the domain of a Father of Dust. He would soon see what would happen next. For he also knew another task remained for the young apprentice. The Shard would need to face his greatest challenge yet before he would be worthy of his due. "I thank you Krath Inmortos. You truly are a Father of Dust, a God-King of the Damned. I am indebted to you, your apprentice and Lord Dictum. If ever you have need of me, I will find a way to assist you. But for the time being, would anyone happen to have a spare robe? I came out of Chaos a little under dressed for the occasion. And without a weapon to combat those spirits who want me back."

As Akheron gave chase towards the younger Sith Warrior, intent on tearing his soul apart he heard another familiar voice. This time one that seemed to calm his mind and call to his reasoning. Albeit not at first, he glared towards Dictum, his Rage and Wrath wanting to destroy him for thinking he could command him. And then he closed his eyes, and focused. Within that moment his mind settled and found clarity, clear of the fog of twisted reality in the Chaos dimension that was leading him astray. Of pitch black Darkness that threatened to consume any and all it touched, drawing the damned into it's centre. Opening his spectral eyes, black as midnight in their undead, appearance and with Akheron in his temporary, wraith like form, having stopped, he spoke this time calmly. His mind restored. "I am done. Forgive me young Bernon Mrrgwharr and Lord Dictum. This place has a strange effect on the mind after 3 days...especially after suffering in torment, suffering and pain at the hands of the damned, condemned for my sin of Vengeance. As you said letting my Rage and Wrath get the better of me. No more. You are right in that Falleen is of no consequence, it is as I said. The planet and the people were but a single pawn in my designs upon this galaxy in service of the Sith and by extension the Darkness and Fanged God. One who equally punished me here for my transgressions. It was meant only as a recruitment station. To gain us an edge in more potent Linnorms and Sith, but it is a plan that no longer matters at least for now. It is indeed a lesson learnt. Perhaps more than one. For I also underestimated my opponent, how much she has grown. I respect her more now for having such strength, but despise her equally for refusing to abandon the Light. Falleen will not be the last she sees of me of that you can be certain. She will not win that war between us. Light and Dark. But that is a future endeavour, one which will require a different approach. For she is cunning. But so am I. Let us leave this forsaken place for one where I may show the galaxy what it is to truly suffer. For just as I pay for my transgressions, so shall they. I am indebted to you both in retrieving me and Krath Inmortos. I will thank him personally when we escape this place. Consider this a favour owed, one I will keep if asked in the future. Let us return as Chaos, the Darkness and the Fanged God desires of us, as you said". With that he took the offered hand, to whatever happened next. He knew though it was likely going to hurt alot, but he was accustomed to the pain.

For 3 days Akheron's spirit, his very soul lingered deep within the darkest pits of the Chaos realm. Within the dimension beyond death where all who served the Darkness were sent. Where the damned souls feasted upon everything. Here he was forced to torment as his soul was ravaged by the souls of all he had dispatched over a long lifetime of bloodshed spilt by his hand. And then the Fanged God feasted, tormenting him further for his failings and for not supplying the souls that were promised from Falleen. For allowing the Light and the Enemy via the Jedi to deal a blow to his designs and the Sith. However, Akheron fought back against the pain and endless suffering, for 3 days he gathered strength as many times before he broke free of his capture. Hoisting himself from the chains that held him and destroying the souls that sought to again ravage him. Only this time it was they that suffered. His Rage and Wrath grew until his strength was back and he was allowed to wander the realm of the dead as he saw fit. Fighting off any damned soul that attempted to destroy him, showing the Fanged God he was far from as weak as some thought. Even despite his failure against the Jedi Sandy Sarna. One he had underestimated, another lesson learnt. It was while wandering, fighting off several damned souls that he heard a familiar voice. Bernon Mrrgwharr, Apprentice to Krath Inmortos. Like those with him, he too insulted and chided the fallen Sith Warrior and Master. Claiming that he was his better and surpassed Akheron. He would show him his folly. That he was far from the weakened, fallen Sith Warrior he thought he was. Bernon Mrrgwharr would learn what it was to suffer. To show him that even despite his failings, he was still potent. That even in Death his will was strong, he would know the true depths of his Rage and Wrath. After dispatching the damned he made his way, crossing the hellscape until he spotted the deviant apprentice. Walking he saw Bernon Mrrgwharr and approached cautiously. Standing opposite he spoke briefly before charging towards his prey. A Hunter hunting a hunter. He would show him Falleen was a temporary setback, that is far from his only play. That even death would not bar him from sending souls to the Fanged God and him from touching the Darkness. Even if it included him. "Who are you Bernon Mrrgwharr, Apprentice to Krath Inmortos to question me? You are but a speck beneath my fingernails here young one. For even here in suffering, pain and torment I have endured and will continue to endure. For not even this realm of Chaos and the damned will my will be denied, even here I continue to grow. My Rage and Wrath everlasting. And any who would deny me and my worthiness will be destroyed. Fallen was but a temporary setback, you think it was my only design? You know little Bernon Mrrgwharr. In the grand game, Falleen was nothing. Just another pawn. Just like you are to your master. As we all are to the Darkness and the Fanged God. Even in failure I learn as a Sith Warrior must. For only then do we become the stronger, a lesson it appears you have not yet learnt. You will learn what it is to lose, to suffer. Here in oblivion you will be given a lesson, and learn the true depths of my Rage and Wrath. To learn what it is to be a Sith Warrior. A Master of Darkness and a destroyer of worlds." With that the chase was on. Akheron focused, his Wrath and Rage sending him hurtling towards his target. He would show him he was not to be trifled with. That he was worthy, a destroyer of worlds who was not yet done with the galaxy. Or the Jedi. He would show all even in failure he grew the more potent and stronger. As always he had.

Akheron felt neither pity or remorse as the battle raged between the two. Darkness against the Light. Two equal in power but opposites on a coin, for Akheron was a emissary of the Dark, a warrior with a purpose. Even if it lay beyond the young Jedi Master's understanding, or so he thought. He would show her the truth of the Darkness, show her why the Light was a way of weakness. And just as he had suffered, so to would she. He could feel the beats of the battle, every vibration and tremor. Even as the pain of his wounds threatened to engulf his body, he would not submit. For it was a familiar pain, injuries and wounds added to others upon his body, every scar a lesson. Even as now, with each mark he grew stronger. Focusing his Wrath and Rage, Akheron continued, he would not be denied. It was then his blade found purchase. He noted that she stepped back, pushing off with her right leg with the Force...attempting to defy her fate. Even as he cut her midriff, filling the air with the smell of burnt clothe and singed flesh. A small smile crept across his lip, behind the mask that hid the monster behind it. She was clever he gave her that much, but it would not change the outcome. At first following, he stopped when he felt the shift. The Darkness harkening a warning, that to trespass further invited his doom. As her hand flexed, he acted. Focusing the feeling of pain and suffering into his Wrath and Rage, working against the torment of his injuries. Although painful it would not slow him, for he was accustomed to such pain. And then he saw her endgame. How she meant to try and bury him once more, but he would not allow it. He would end it here and now, the dance between them. As the buildings pulled down by the Force, threatened to engulf him, Akheron attempted to hold back the tide of rock and stone. With strain and effort, he worked against them, telekinetically holding what he could from crushing him. Even as other rocks attempted to add to it or bounce off and his legs threatened to give. No he would not falter, he would show the Jedi Master the true power and strength of the Darkness. He would show her what it was to be a Master of Darkness. Throwing them towards his target, he attempted to crush her shield with the very stone's she had wished to end him with. With the fury of his Wrath and Rage, Akheron came behind the wall of debris using the Force to Speed this movement, intent on again closing the distance should he fail to crush her. He would then begin a barrage, that with each succession would build to a crescendo, building with intensity the more the deadly dance carried on, the longer she survived. Like a Sawblade to cut her down his Rage and Wrath would create a self sustained loop of destruction hoping to cut through at her shield and her. Like a butcher or surgeon, aiming to cut her apart like the monster he was. Darth Akheron vs Sandy Sarna - ((3)) ((Great duel, look forward to more in the future. No matter the outcome. )). ((Just to clarify for the Mods. Initially used Telekinesis to hold up what he can and flung what he could at Sandy hoping to crush the shield and her. His basically run behind that with Force Speed followed by the Sawblade Strike per the Warrior guide.))