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Telperiën Ar-Pharazon

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Telperiën Ar-Pharazon last won the day on February 25 2020

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About Telperiën Ar-Pharazon

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  • Birthday 12/26/1991

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  1. Telperien gestured towards the distant forest and its even more distant farming agriculture. “Take and partake. They are in rebellion, put down any that resist, enjoy in the feast of brutality but spare the children for they can yet be saved.” She motioned to three of her Sisters to accompany the young Sith Apprentice. Her voice was soft as she spoke a word in their ears. “Guard him well, and if the Jedi show themselves in force, fade into the trees. Do not enter a fight you cannot win.”
  2. The old model cargo freighter slipped out of hyperspace slightly behind the transports of Qaela’s. The large cargo containers, much like the darkside itself, carried a ruthless cargo behind a nice and cheery exterior. Painted in the white of the galactic medical standard, the starship Calliope joined the dozens of other medical frigates and supply convoys towards the spread out villages that surrounded the Jedi Complex. With a burst of well piloted engines and repulsors, the freighter settled down at one of the abandoned villages a few miles distant from the edge of the Temple’s shield. Telperien the Golden, heir to the line of Ar-Pharazon and the Coven of Nightsisters knelt at her Master's feet. Her voice was soft as the ranks of dark cloaked sisters prostrated themselves behind her. “My Lord, your victory awaits.”
  3. Like apparitions in deep mist, the nightsisters formed ranks around Telperiën and Shiro. An honour guard of sorts, if honour guards carried bows and spears and wore patched leather armour. But the Sisters were strong, even as a lowly apprentice, Telperiën had helped the Dark Lord defeat the White Wolf of Onderon and his Jedi Mistress. The Sisters were survivors of the great purge of their planet, and now they were here to serve the master of all. The Emperor of the Stars. When they reached his room, Telperiën looked sideways to Shiro and indicated that he should prostrate himself before the Dark Lord. She simply took a knee and bared her neck by lifting her chin. A sign of utter dedication to the Spider. “We stand ready for your war my Lord.”
  4. Her eyes narrowed in a mocking expression. “Did dear Awenyyd take that much from you that you are not sure of your sex? A pity. But Eunuchs have their uses.” She flicked a knife from her waist across the tip of her finger, causing a single drop of blood to well up in the slight slash. Her mouth moved in a murmur and the crystals around her ears began to shimmer like they were in starlight. Then, with a deft movement, she brushed the drop of blood across his left temple, leaving a dark smudge that seemed to attach itself to his skin. More like a birthmark than a drop of blood. “Now we must pay our respects to the Spider. For war stirs again.” She looked to her mother and inclined her head.
  5. Tel nodded her head, the small crystals interwoven in her hair almost changing colour as her eyes were drawn away from her mother’s face to something in the distance. She grimaced, her eyes narrowing as she pushed herself back from the lunch counter. SHe spared another glance to her mother and nodded again. “I will join you for whatever comes, though my place will always be with our people. Not the Sith Lords, our masters.” She gestured to the shambling man who was rapidly approaching their table. He spoke and knelt and she pushed her chair back before planting her knee firmly and with a great amount of force into his eyesocket. Following it with a direct slap to the side of his face, intending to throw him onto his back. “So did Haley throw you from her service and you come crawling to me?” She laughed then, a pure laugh, then extended her hand to the man. “You are welcome of course. If you wish to learn the way of my people, you are most welcome. Even if you are a man.”
  6. “I have always longed for legacy, we both have seen how short a command over galactic events Father had.” She spoke of Ar-Pharazon, once Sith Master and domestic terrorist. “No one even speaks his name though his exploits are but a decade past. As if everything he did were but grains of sand on Tatooine. Lost forever.” She shook her head, the small crystals interwoven with her braids glimmering in the harsh light of the eatery. “So how does one achieve Legacy? Am I his legacy? Though he never did a thing to raise me, so in that regard you have achieved far more than he ever did. In this harsh galaxy I do not think pure terror or power hold much weight.” She shook her head again considering her own stated questions. ‘I have not lusted for power, or for influence, though their addiction interlaces everything around the Dark Lord. What is the goal? What is there once the galaxy is subdued? Another fight for power among his vassals? Do we eat ourselves like every generation of Sith past?” She sighed and placed both of her strong hands around the warm mug of alcoholic cider. “So we must each focus on what we want in the end I guess. I want a legacy and I want our people to thrive again. What are your goals mother?”
  7. Seeing her mother brought more joy to her heart than Telperien had thought possible. It had been a long time sure, but they had never had the typical holonet mother daughter relationship. It had been a contest of power, since her conception. Or at least that is what Telperien had thought. Now it felt different. There was love there, even if she had not been able to perceive it before. But Telperien had been through a lot, and many bodies indeed since she had last seen Qaela, and this was one that she had learned from some past occupant. “I hope you are well, mother.” She managed that brief sentence before slipping into a smile and giving her mother a firm hug. “I have missed you. But I hear we may be venturing together with the Spider to finally end this rebellion, is this true?” And now fate was sending them on a mission together with the Dark Lord. What joy.
  8. Mother was here? Telperiën let her presence tentatively touch that great presence, eclipsed by the Dark Lords since his was so close. Its dark and silky embrace was so overpowering. But hers was intoxicating. Strong, as she had always been, leaving almost a wine like taste on her tongue. No wonder Ar-Pharazon wanted her so badly. She stood and began to search for her mother. It had been far too long since they had talked.
  9. The long worn Sith landing craft spun towards the beacon transmitting slightly dated but familiar codes. The Spiders Apprentice had returned, and brought with her another long lost Sith Apprentice, the Cathar Camik. It was time for him to receive his Lordship, and to join the long ranks of the Sith Empire. Telperien turned to the Cathar, her voice soft. “Kneel.” She had no great name to bestow upon him, no great title. A simple gesture, and one that he had long deserved. “Rise a Lord of the Sith Empire.” The shuttle docked, and the nightsisters all bowed low to the Cathar. “Now go and find your place. Seek the Spider and serve him until your death.”
  10. "Then let us depart in peace. We go and seek the Spider." Telperiën Ar-Pharazon turned and led their company, including Rancors to the Sith landing craft, and together they made for Onderon. The planet of the Emperor
  11. “Why Camik I was your mentor. And to me you have passed my tests.” She shrugged her thin shoulders instinctively. “I will never claim to be a good mentor, but I think you are strong enough to take the next steps.” She flicked her hand towards the fire and its coals began to glow white hot as they consumed their own carbon supply. The flames began to show a dark world with a close set moon. A singular city standing like a monolith in the midst of the jungle, and a Super Star Destroyer in a lazy orbit. Then it dissolved into sparks and they were plunged into darkness. Telperiën stood and placed her hand on the top of his head. Almost gingerly, almost caring. “Then I will teach you what I know of the Sisters. And then we will see the Spider at Onderon. First I must ask you to bring me your prize.” (Describe your NPC in detail, give her a background, and bring her to Telperien)
  12. “Was it truly fun dear Camik?” Telperien wondered aloud as she stood from her position near the fire. “You have gained a servant, a slave, and tools to bring you into the wider world of the Sith. What more can I teach you? Or should I hurl you into battle against the Rebel Alliance and their Jedi without a second care? What do you wish dear Camik?” The question was an honest one, and she leaned forward to hear his answer.
  13. The threads of the Terror moved beneath Telperiën’s fingers as she called upon the force. Each thread connected to a tired and scared mind. Each pluck like on a harp brought a scream of fright. There was so much power there, so much potential. But it required so much power, and it was exhausting, even with the pain from her arm to sustain her bodies desire. The power, of course, was addicting and Telperiën bathed in that addiction. Wallowed in it. Covered herself in their pain, in their Terror. She supped on it, feeding like an Anzati on brain matter. The power coursed through her veins like a self consuming fire. Delicious as it was painful. Controlling even willing minds had its own cost of course. But this was another lesson to give to the offworlders and her apprentice. Two separate lessons in one. The price of power and its allure. A throbbing pain struck at where she had cut her arm and a single glance told her that it was time to stop. For the next Curse had awakened. And Telperiën fell back from her circle of blood, exhausted. ________ And so Kaila was released from the terror. Her eyes unfocusing for a moment before she burst into tears and embarrassedly stopped her retreat. She whispered an apology and followed the Duros. Tears trickling through the dust on her face. ________ Saeth was the first to return, her small form barely stumbling into the shade of the transport, she was grasping an offworlder’s canteen in her tired hands. Trembling from the aftereffects of terror and exhaustion. Telperiën greeted her with a kindly smile and a motherly embrace. And whispered for her to take a place at the fire, which she gladly did. It was a long time from that point until the older offworlder appeared, somehow looking even more old and tired than he had when he had left to pursue Saeth. Telperiën looked up from where she knelt and sprang to her feet, Saeth joining her as they brought him a plate of food and his own canteen. Telperiën sat down next to him wiping at the blood that was still seeping from the deep cut in her arm, the surrounding flesh somehow having already gone black with dead flesh. “Failure is never an option, Svata.” She looked to the tired Ryn and grinned a toothy grin. Teeth which were surrounded by gums that showed an unhealthy hue of red. “But you found one of my sisters and rescued her, so you did not fail.” She coughed and sat back.
  14. Telperiën pursued her own quarry at a walk, letting the force work its own magik. She flicked the knife up again and pressed it deeply into the long scar on her arm before casting the knife into the dirt. Tendons screeched their protest, muscle tore, and blood was let free to seeth in rivulets down her arm, which she collected gladly with her free hand. She flung the blood into a circle around her and knelt, licking the remaining blood from her fingers. Now the force of Dathomir could really show itself. Terror Its threads were as thick as old cobwebs over the world. Stretched from almost every being to every other being. Her mouth moved in a ritualistic chant as she began to pull on those threads of terror. She traced them to the girls running, and amplified the terror until it was overwhelming. ________ The girls made their runs as fast as they could, but none could meet the power of the Jenssarai or the speed of the Sith Apprentice. But they had the burning pain of the blood magic spurring them on, and the prospects of a punishment so they did their utmost to escape. Their terror could be tasted like a thick film on the force, bubbling out of them as they ran. Terror embodied the spirit of Dathomir, and they ran from the force users as fast as their feet could take them. For they did not know what fate would await them. Kaila, the youngest in her middle teen years ran until the blood from her bare feet and rough ground was as visible as her terror in the force. When at last she could not go any further in the rough ground she turned on Sarlacc with a cry of pain and terror. The force moving through her as she threw whatever she could reach at the Duros knight. Sobbing tears that ran trails through the ash and dirt that streaked her face. Kirain, a young woman in the later years of her teens turned ferociously upon Camik as he tracked her down. Her face was a mask of horror as she flung everything from rocks to tree branched as the young man in an attempt to get away. The fastest runner among the girls, Saeth, lasted the longest before the terror overcame her too. Instead of fighting like the others she collapsed into a begging sobbing mess at Savata’s feet.
  15. “Hunting is a two sided adventure Sir Sarlacc. And it is one the girls have to learn. Must learn. Life is not kind on Dathomir. And even less kind in the galactic disk.” Her pink purple eyes met his and she sighed. “In a way this is a simpler hunt than offworld. On Coruscant you are hunted by corporations for the contents of your wallet, on Nar Shaddaa you are hunted for the content of your character. Especially if you have the nature of darkness as my people do. But though it may be far more obvious here on Dathomir, you are hunted no less in the galaxy.” She laughed, her dark voice embodying bitterness. “So yes we will hunt these girls. Perhaps even hurt them if you wished, but it is for their own good. For they will learn lessons here that a child at the Rebel Base on Nar Shaddaa will never learn until a Sith Lord kills their family in front of them. They will learn to persist. To fight through pain, and to fight fiercely.” She pointed at a scar that crossed her neck. “It is how my people will survive. To turn from the hunted to the hunter. But to learn how to be a predator, you must first become prey.” She gave him a serious look. “We do not derive strength from schools or learning like the Jedi do. For a moment spent in study is a moment not preparing for a fight."
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