Darth Immolatus

The Twi'lek watched as the colors beneath him began to merge together. Each bright and violent color mixing with the depressing and darks to form a sphere that continued to grow in size. He watched as colors slid over one another, creating an almost beautiful living piece of artwork. ”

The young Twi'lek watched as the earth opened in front of him. He watched as rocks fell in the gaping chasm; buildings that once stood tall, even amidst the madness of this world, fell within seconds, concrete and glass shattering upon impact with the earth. War'lok continued to watch as the newly opened gap in the earth completely changed the landscape. Ink seemed to flood over the edge, giving texture and grain to what was once a flat, pristine white wall. As he turned his attention back to the Kel Dor in front of him, he watched as the energy sword burned one word into the air: JUMP. The thought of insanity crossed his mind as he looked over the gorge. How could any person make it across the gap? Unless he suddenly had wings he did not know of, he would need far greater power than he ever thought possible to leap across that gorge. How could the Kel Dor possibly expect him to make it across? The distance was too vast. As he contemplated the request of suicide by Orik, he could feel the darkness within him stir, excited at the prospect of possible death, and even more so by a display of power. Jump you coward. If you are afraid of death, you will never be able to unlock your true power. Only by conquering your fear of death will you unleash yourself, and will we join forces. The Lethan Twi'lek took off at a run towards the large gap. He could feel his fear coursing through his veins. His blood was boiling as he neared the gorge. Within seconds he was at the edge and he pushed off. He could feel a strength flowing through him as he flew through the air.

The world was suddenly alive with what appeared to be pure darkness. The Lethan Twi'lek watched as it spilled over the edges of invisible buildings giving them true form once more. The whiteness that once ruled the world was continuously being pushed backwards, the two colors never truly meeting. Allowing his hook to fall back he watched as the world around him continued to grow until he could no longer see the whiteness that had once engulfed him. As he made his way through the new world he began to see it for what it truly was: a world that was engulfed by madness. Where even the shadows and the land seemed to breed darkness. Suddenly a horrible voice echoed through the world. It came from everywhere at once. It seemed as if the buildings themselves seemed to speak to him. The heads of the people walking through the city seemed to be looking at him one second, speaking the words of the dark voice, but then with what appeared to be a glitch, static overcame their faces and once more they were facing forward. His mind reeled as it happened thousands of times. If he hadn't know better he would have sworn it was the turning of their neck muscles creating the voice, and static that gave the voice its dark feeling. And then he felt it. He knew there was someone behind him. And this was no ordinary person, it was the creator of the voice, the origin, the source. Quickly whirling behind him he noticed the being emerging from the shadows. This is not the true Master. I can feel his weakness. He is but a shadow of his former self. But he is the path. Only through him will you find the true power. ”œA Kel Dor. I have rarely seen your species off your homeworld. And now to find the soul of one? Interesting.”

As War'lok slowly made his way off the transport shuttle, he noticed a pair of droids. He could tell by their movements that they intended to guide him somewhere, so he hesitantly made his way towards them. Allowing his eyes to roam across the hangar, he noticed symbols had been etched along the walls and above the doorways. He had no idea how to read or what their intent was, but he could feel a darkness radiating from them. Within moments the droids reached him and spoke in a harsh mechanized voice. ”

OOC: Sorry for posting your actions but I want to move things along. IC: As War'lok lay unconscious, Jzora placed him on a small shuttle and arranged for it arrive at the Sith Temple on Coruscant. (Again, sorry for posting your actions.)

As a hand wrapped itself around his lekku, War'lok snapped his eyes open in time to see a wall moving toward him at an alarming speed. Only seconds before impact did he realize it was not the wall moving, but his own body. As darkness began to cover his world, the Lethan Twi'lek heard the whispers once more. Although he knew there could be no emotion behind the whispers, he could detect a faint note of pleasure this time. It has begun at last.

Why am I here? For what purpose do I exist? Was I meant to serve the Clan Council for the rest of my days? Was it my purpose to be a soldier in defense of those too weak to defend themselves? Or was I meant for more? Am I meant to become more than a simple Marshall of Ryloth? If I am, what more can I be.....? "Now landing at the Theed Galactic Starport. Please proceed off the shuttle and make your way through the terminal. Thank you for choosing Rylothian Galactic." The Lethan Twi'lek allowed his eyes to snap open as the announcement was made. His upper lip curled slightly, revealing his sharpened teeth, as he listened to a female of his special chatter on about the tourist hot spots of Naboo. The leku that rested on his chest shifted slightly in irritation. While he did realize and agree that female Twi'leks were among the most beautiful of the galaxies species, he did grow weary of seeing them displayed in every entertainment venue. He sometimes wondered what would happen if his species were suddenly wiped out. How would the galaxy deal without their endless supply of exotic dancers, erotic slaves, and billions of entertainment personas? In his mind, the red-skinned humanoid could see the galaxy spiraling into darkness, billions of beings without companionship, love, affection. A smile graced his lips for a mere moment before turning into a snarl once more. While he could always dream of a galaxy aflame, he knew his dreams were only that. Gripping his luggage case firmly in his hand, War'lok slowly shuffled through the mass of passengers before reaching the exit hatch. He allowed himself to pause for a brief moment, enough time for an attempt by the stewardess to attempt a conversation. Although she remained silent, her lekku spoke in place of her tongue. Had entertainment and relaxation been the focus of his trip to this ”œcivilized”

CHARACTER SHEET Real Name: War'lok Syndulla Nickname: Lord Marshall Age: 279 Species: Lethan Twi'lek Height: 2.0 meters Weight: 160 lbs Skin: Red Eyes: Green Sex: Male Homeworld: Ryloth Alignment: Lawful Evil Clothing: Black Rancor leather boots and trousers, dark blue shimmersilk tunic, black cloak Weapon: vibro-rapier, blaster pistol Force User Inventory: Clothing, credits, weapon Posessions: Clothing, Weapons, Estate on Ryloth

Angelus could feel the wind against his skin as he ran through the hills of Gala. With his enhanced sight he could see the white foam rising in the seas. For some reason he had always loved the sea. He had always been able to take comfort in the roar of the waves, the cool breeze that blew off the water, and the peaceful tranquility that he experienced every visit. He could not explain his love the ocean, but after all these years he had stopped questioning it. Closing his eyes as he ran, he could hear the roar of the sea and a smile cross his face. Within moments, he found himself in front of the Jedi Temple. His golden eyes gazed upon the spires as he took in its magnificence. For months he had been building the courage to approach this glorified building. As he stood before the building he could see dozens of people exiting and entering the building, each cloaked with the brown robes of the Jedi Order. Turning his head upwards, he watched as ships were docked while others hovered for mere moments before blasting through the atmosphere. Turning his attention back to the main door, he began to feel something. He couldn't explain it so he shook it off and made his way into the Temple.

CHARACTER SHEET Real Name: Angelus Darkwolf Nickname: Darkwolf Age: early 20's Species: Biological Experiment Height: 6' 4 Weight: 215 lbs pure muscle Hair: Black Eyes: Yellow Gold Sex: Male Homeworld: Unknown Alignment: Chaotic Good Clothing: Black ankle length great-coat, white undershirt, maroon nerf-hide vest, black commando pants, black combat boots. Weapon: A single Khukri strapped to his hip. Inventory: His single weapon. Possessions: Only his clothes and his weapon. History: Angelus was the final result of the ”œDarkwolf Project”

"I have been well versed in the martial arts. Under the training of the Empire I learned how to handle a blaster as well as small knives. Learning from myself, I have learned how to fight with a staff. That is the extent of my fighting abilties. Although when I was fighting the droideka, I did somehow renenw my energy and make myself stronger." Storm stood before the Dark Lord with respect in his eyes. This mans power was a testament to the Sith and their abilities.

Pain coursed through the young Zabraks body as the small blades of the chainsaw easily cut through his skin. Blood sprayed across his face and along the walls of the temple throne room. Within seconds, the chainsaw reached his shoulder bone and began to seperate his arm from his body. Blood fell to the floor in buckets, soaking the stone floor in the color of anger and passion. When Storm awoke. He remembered the details of his maiming with precise details. He felt every inch if skin and muscle that the weapon chewed away. He heard the rattling as his bones were cut into. He heard the thumb as his arm crashed to the floor. The Dark Lord had cut into the part of his arm that was still alive. The part he had hoped to keep, but nevertheless, the act was done. The cold touch of steel was pressed against the remnants of his shoulder and he felt a small amount of heat, melding the two together. The cold steel had become one with his warm pale skin. rising to his feet, Storm flexed his new arm. Instead of having artificial skin placed over his arm, he had chosen to keep the metalic look. He enjoyed the smooth surface and manioulated the hang in the air. Seeing slight grooves in the surface he thought about what they did and immediately the arms weapons systems were activated. Electricty poured from the fingertips of the arm and coursed through the stone wall before dissipating. Fire leapt from the palms and he watched as the bed caught and fire leapt from wall to wall. A small smile crept over his lips and his dagger like teeth were revealed. After garbing himself with a loose robe and he left the small medical room. His emerald eyes traversed the lonely halls and once again, Stom enetered the room that KR stood in. Dropping to hisn knees once again, The Zabrak lowered his eyes to the floor and spoke once more to the Dark Lord. "I am now ready to fight you for my Lord. I am ready to take all that I can learn and destroy the Jedi Knights."

As the Dark Lord spoke, the images of a metallic arm raced through his mind. Almost as if watching a movie in his mind, he saw himself fighting with an arm of steel, and a heart of darkness. The Zabraks pale lips arced to form a smile, revealing his angled teeth. "I will take an arm of steel. I will allow my body of flesh to change to become one of flesh and steel."

"I came to be trained in the ways of the Sith. But since my arrival I have only succeeded in nearly being killed by four droids. The last of which took the use of my arm from me." The darkness seemed to pour down from the man before him. Although Storm stood above him, he feltas if the man could destroy him with a single though. Although he did not know the individual, he felt as if he was someone of great importance. As if loosing his strength, Storm dropped to his knees before the great Sith.

Visions of power and darkness fill Storms dreams as he slept. The pain from his arm still reverberated from damage he had received from the droideka. In his minds eye he watched his arm melt away in slow motion. Even in his dreams he felt the pain from that moment. As the young Zabrak woke, he tried to move his hand only to find the task impossible. To moce his arm would require muscles which no longer existed. Only the skeleton of his hand remained. Rising to his feet, Storm looks at his hand and disgust passes through his face. Wielding a staff would be dam near impossible for him to accomplish now. Letting his arm hand at his side he moved into the hallways. As his footsteps echoed through the hallways of the Sith Temple, he felt a dark presence. The darkness seemed to call for all those evil to join him, as well as fear him. Rounding a corner, Storm found himself staring at the form of Kakuto Ryu. Although smaller than the Zabrak, his strength in the Force seemed to dwarf Storm in size. The warrior knew this was no man to casue trouble with.