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Tarrian Skywalker

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Where the Warrior wore the wrath of rage, and the Sorcerer wore the visage of fear, the Assassin enveloped themselves in the despair of pain. And it was a gluttonous feast indeed. For pain led to many sins, and it was a core value in the presence that was called the Darkness. It led each to its call. Whether pain inflicted one's wrath, or wrought one's greatest of fear, pain led to all. And through pain, the Darkness could be divided. And upon the surface of this reborn world, pain had already claimed its stake.

 

From the wounds of the combatants, the despair of the lost souls called from the ether, it came without end. And for an Assassin such as Dictum, it was a buffet. A grin creased his face as the Sith Daggers tore at the veil that enraptured the lost souls, the despair that wailed from their fruitless plight enveloping his darkened soul. He could feel the Force that purged from their forms as he pulled another into his mawed presence, a reminder of mortality.

 

They may have been the essence of shades, mere mimicry of their former selves, but they weren't untouchable by no means. But neither was Dictum, and he reveled in their dance, a dance with death. He could feel its glancing pull, taste the ichor of its presence, and he gested it with glee. For in the presence of death, life was a fleeting victory. And the bitter cold only a reminder of the veil that separates the two.

 

Yet, as it's Master exploded in defeat, and the veil threatened to thicken, Dictum stepped back from its claim. Scratches and scrapes from the other beyond frozen upon his form, and he dropped to one knee as the dead began their retreat. And in its place boomed a voice that scorched the very earthen ground it reclaimed. It was done. The victor had been chosen, but not without cost. Shifting his gaze across the battlefield, Dictum heard the Dark Lady's words. Words that would be, as is her decree.

 

Standing up, congealed blood beginning to drip from defrosting wounds, Dictum lowered his head with fist over heart. A new era had begun.

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Dictum.jpg.0f5717fd74fdc4ee9bfc91ffc3fa3457.jpgDarth Dictum

 

"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?" - Edgar Allen Poe

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Akheron continued his assault upon the undead spirits with his Linnorm Blade up until the very moment their master who had unleashed them, exploded in a gory fountain of giblets and blood upon the very ground each stood. Akheron himself was not immune from the aftermath as blood splattered across parts of his armour and robe coming down from the sky like a red rain. The newly minted Sith Master and Warrior stood impressed as he noted how the wailing spirits were either retreating or being pulled back into the tear of the veil into the void beyond. Into Chaos itself, a plane of existence and hellish dimension of the afterlife he was all too familiar during his lifetime.

 

Some attempted to resist...and those closest to the Sith Warrior who did so soon met their grim fate at the end of his almost ethereal , Wrath propelled Limnel Blade as he used his connection to the Darkness, a gift from the now late necromancer. The Darkness emanating from him like a vengeful beast that had been unleashed. One with little regard for the fate of those around, only existing in that moment to see that his targets were destroyed. This was Darth Akheron, Sith Master and Warrior as he truly was. His true self. He was a beacon of Darkness, one who served the Fanged God through the Sith. And now through Darth Calypso. His new sovereign. 

 

The new Dark Lord who had completed her trial of strength and faith. By overcoming Death itself in it's emissary, the necromancer, Krath Master Inmortos. Yet Akheron knew as the Dark Lord did, he would return. It was his nature in the Darkness. Death could never truly die. With his demise, Akheron knew his new apprentice would not know what to do. And so motioned for him to come over once remaining spirits were dispersed. 

 

He knew what Krath Inmortos most likely action would be and what he would want for his apprentice. He had been around him enough times now to have a somewhat understanding of his mind. To a degree. Facing the young human Warrior apprentice, he spoke.

 

 "Come, we must show allegiance to the new Dark Lord, one who has passed the trial of fire for the mantle of leadership. By making a Sacrifice of blood to the Darkness. Your master knew what he was doing young one. He was testing her, one she passed with flying colours. Your master will return, what you saw was not his true form. For he has many. He moves between bodies like we hunt our prey. I have known him for some time now, we are well acquainted. Well enough to understand his thoughts to some extent, not telepathy mind...but his intellect. He would want you to go to his throne world most likely, Aaris III. Where his spirit is bound too. It would be where he most likely returns. It is where he holds his true power. The power over Death itself. For he is neither living or ever truly dead.

 

I shall take you there when we are done here. In the meantime, stick with me and you may learn a few things about the Order and what the Darkness may teach you. For now consider yourself a unofficial apprentice. You would be wise to call me Master and treat me as you would your own Master, Krath Inmortos himself. That said feel free to ask questions, but for now best we kneel and pledge our loyalty to the Dark Lord's decree." 

 

With that Akheron motioned him and his own apprentice to kneel before he spoke to the new Dark Queen.

 

 "You have erased any doubts from my mind about your power and strength in the Darkness. Your chains are truly broken my new my dark queen. My Dark Lord or in your case Dark Lady. I pledge myself, and my apprentice to you and your decree so long as you are not found wanting in the eyes of the Darkness. Betray the Sith philosophy and the Order, the very Code we stand behind and I shall hunt you personally....a fact you no doubt would enjoy. Until that day my blade, my Wrath and Rage, will be yours to wield against this galaxy. I will bring the vengeance of the Sith to any who would deny us our right."

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas
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https://jedirp.net/topic/4851-trodai-narat-iv-adas-darth-akheron/

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 "Only in my pain, did I find my will. Only in my chaos, did I learn to be still. Only in my fear, did I find my might. Only in my darkness, did I see my light." - Darth Akheron

 

I survived the Great JNet Outage of 2012

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Solus almost clapped at the final demonstration of power Calypso did at her victory, While he hated the fact that the necromancer had not done more damage to the now Empress, he rejoiced in the fact that the Necromancer was once again bested. No doubt he would regenerate on his own on some far flung world, or even back on that blasted heath of Aaris III. 

 

True, it meant that Solus would have to endure the Necromancer’s words of annoyance further, but that also meant that the opportunity to kill the necromancer permanently was still in Solus’ future. 

 

His master’s words to the no-doubt lost apprentice confirmed his thoughts. Once rejoined with him, Solus bowed before Calypso as well, and offered his own confirmation of servitude. 

 

“Great Ladyship, forged from a time forgotten, may your goals and the goals of the Spider always align. And when they don’t, may our passions make us both stronger still!

 

Solus suddenly had an idea come to his head. This situation presented an opportunity, if played correctly. Solus turned to his master once done with his pledge. 

 

“Master, a thought…” Solus chided in, while gesturing to . “This apprentice’s master once gifted me the opportunity of blood and learning. Why not gift him one as well? Teach him one of your enlightening lessons on Aaris III with his master’s approval, and in the mean time, allow me, your newly humbled apprentice, to regroup and rejoin some of our forces. I do recall a certain assassination plot on Faleen that might require some further investigation. Our people may require someone like the Dragon to establish some order among the ranks."

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                  Bernon Mrrgwharr had a new mix of emotions, anger, rage, hate, despair, hope, and victory. Anger for his master's failure to rid the galaxy of this threat to the Sith and their longevity and survival. Rage at the false words of this new Dark Lord of the Sith, and her belief that the weak must die, no, he believed that the weak must serve, not necessarily die, the dead had no use, but servants did. He had hate for Lady Calypso, he believed her to be a false prophet. He had despair for a short time, believing his master to be dead, and his hope at a Sith life destroyed. However the despair turned to a feeling of hope as Darth Akheron offered to support him. A feeling of victory washed over him as he realized his master was not truly dead, and with any luck, wouldn't be for some time to come.

 

                 His negative feelings went into his reserve, to be kept for a more useful time, and after all, yelling at the Dark Lord of the Sith would just get him punished, most likely with a bloody death. He had however learned what he could from the fight between the Sith and took in the few words of wisdom that Lady Calypso spoke. He had also taken in all the wisdom he could from Darth Akheron, one of the few Sith here he was actually fond of, along with his master, of course. He listened to his new unofficial master and bowed before him, before turning and kneeling to Lady Calypso. He had no words to offer the Sith Master, he didn't want to betray his feelings with words dripping with contempt.

 

                 He was also most grateful for the supportive suggestion that Solus gave Darth Akheron. As a new apprentice of the Sith and after the recent developments, he needed all the support he could get. And he was fully willing to take advantage of the support he was given. He was excited as well to learn at the feet of a Sith Warrior, one who was also a master in his own right, before and while they traveled to Aaris III.

 

@Karys Narat iv-Adas @Solus @Krath Inmortos

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Tros watched the display of great power from the Sith, but never once flinched or felt like he had to intervene. While it was something he understood what the Sith were doing, as even him as a Mandalorian knew such leaders could always be challenged for the position of power. At any given moment, anyone who didn't agree with him could declare such a thing and then the two would fight and the victor would take the leadership, the title. Mand'alor. The sole ruler of the people of Mandalorians. Such was the nature of the stronger warrior style cultures. Clearly the Sith were no different from his own. 

 

But even as he watched, he came to understand that there was in fact a new Sith leader, one of whom he didn't feel like proving himself to again. Hopefully she would be able to collect the notes from others on the situation. He glanced over at Kot'dral, whom he could tell was looking for threats against him. Of all places, this was one where he truly didn't feel like he had to watch his back, oddly enough. They were all too busy with inter politics to be concerned about what the Mandalorian crew was doing. 

 

He did catch a few others that he recognized from previous encounters, some of which he would love to have a drink with a have them share their stories from the battle of Nar Shaddaa. But he doubted such a thing was commonly done amongst the Sith, and nor was it something on their priority at the moment. Opening a private link to Kot'dral, he talked directly to him. "I think it's about time we wrap up here and head back home to Almas. We have our own plans to accomplish. Talk to no one unless they approach you." Tros didn't wait for a reply before he cut the link. He would linger longer than the others to see if there was anything worth staying for, but if not, they would all return home and begin to rebuild themselves. 

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Even as Inmortos’ possessed body dissipated into the air, a spray of blood and ichor, the spirit of the dark lord was loosed; an ethereal being amongst the rising waves of darkness that seemed to roil from the very soil at their feet. A harsh wind seemed to draw back the legions of spirits loosed upon the field until

inly the few most powerful or local remained to haunt the fringes of the mind. @Darth Calypso’s words carried across the field and as she finished, the very breath of Ziost, a breeze, carried the essence of the necromancer upon it, his quiet whispering words to play upon her ears alone, 

 

“Blood has been spilt. The ancient codes appeased. Hail the new Lord of the Sith”

 

and then the voice was gone sweeping out across the landscape before being swept towards the veil, drawn back to that final resting place once again, not yet condemned to remain there. Before he could be dispersed completely however, he reached out, a skeletal ghostly finger of cold tl rake across the minds of @Karys Narat iv-Adas,  @Bernon Mrrgwharr, and finally @Solus.

 

To his fellow blood-bound Master, he wordlessly bid, a thought, a memory, of Aaris III, of the destruction they wrought there, of his grotesque tower of ice and a desire that his apprentice be brought to him there, alive or dead.

 

To his apprentice, he cast forth a cold and lustful desire, a task infinitely more and yet so simple he had filfilled it already, only to fail in the final stretch:

 

”Fetch my saber to me upon my throne.”

 

And finally, he passed over Solus, a cold disembodied soft laughter that faded into the sky. A reminder of experiences past and present and eternal.

 

And then, as if he never was, the presence of Inmortos passed from this realm into the next, a tortured soul, a king amongst the sodomites. He had accomplished that which he was bidden to do and now would attend to his affairs elsewhere in preparation for the great purge. Who said there was more use in life than death? Inmortos found it quite the opposite. The dead made much more obedient slaves.

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                  Bernon Mrrgwharr felt the calling of his Sith Master, and as he rose, instinctively walked over towards the location of his fallen Master. He sifted throughout the remains, until finding a blood caked lightsaber hilt. He walked back over towards Akheron and Solus, and while he wiped off the hilt and cleaned the exterior of the hilt, he thought for a little bit. Maybe he was wrong about his initial thoughts on the philosophy of the Rule of Strength and the Death of Weak, maybe the dead were better servants, after all, his master could conjure up many dead beasts to do his bidding, however, for himself learning the secrets of immortality would be enough, however he also realized that there was a chance that wasn't possible either, because he was not following the path of the Sith Sorcerer. In the end only time and his teachings would tell, if he couldn't become immortal so be it, either way, his legacy would be.

 

                  Bernon Mrrgwharr had also noticed a feeling in his eyes, a slight change, and soon realized that his eyes must have changed to yellow as he gave himself over to the Dark Side when both becoming an Apprentice, and using the power of Force Rage. He was glad and accepting of this change, as it meant his transition to the Dark Side was happening quickly, or at least quicker than he had initially thought of. Turning on his heel to look at Akheron, he asked a simple question "When do we leave, Master." For him the idea of having unofficially two Masters seemed amazing, as he had more opportunities for power. He believed from what he had seen that Darth Akheron was a Sith Warrior, and that Krath Inmortos was a Sith Sorcerer. From Darth Akheron he could learn the ways of the warrior, the ways of the sword, spear, and lightsaber. From Krath Inmortos he could possibly, however unlikely he now realized given he was a Warrior and not a Sorcerer unlike his Master, learn the ways of Immortality, as well as learning the basics of the Force and other such things.

 

                 He now began realizing the point Lady Calypso was making, and that he was too stubborn to realize it at first, but at least now he understood. The weak did deserve to die, as they were nothing but a burden on society, the Sith, and nearly everything else. Even the dead could be turned into servants, after all, it seemed. A weak soldier is more of a liability than a boon to sheer numbers, he remembered hearing from his Mercenary training. In the end, at the very least almost everything Lady Calypso had to say was true. He felt angry at himself for his stubbornness and stupidity for not realizing that. Only through following his Masters and their wise teachings could he gain real power, and for that moment in time, he had failed to do that, he would not do so again.

 

@Krath Inmortos @Karys Narat iv-Adas

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Once Akheron was certain the new Dark Lord had no further reason to keep him there and having given his pledge. He listened first to his wayward apprentice, who appeared to yet again be attempting sway him in some way...to what end game he could not yet ascertain, but the Sith Master was not yet ready to let his apprentice off his leash just yet. Not so soon after proving he could not yet be trusted in such a way. No for now he would accompany the newcomer back to Aaris III, for he knew now Inmortos had returned. Sooner than expected however.

 

Although another suggestion he had made did have some merit. To use Aaris III to train the newcomer, if his master had no objections. For to create a stronger generation of Sith required multiple avenues of learning. Solus too perhaps could learn something yet again on the forsaken, dead world. Just as last time.

 

He spoke towards both.

 

 "We shall leave immediately if we are no longer needed here. We shall take a shuttle, I see no need to take the flagship there, and besides for now subtly would suit our needs. Solus, your ideas are not without merit but I am not willing to let you off the leash just yet. Not so soon after your recent disobedience. You shall go with us to Aaris III, perhaps you might find some further learning there, as last time we both grew. Perhaps you might find the clarity you require to advance in the Darkness there. If the Darkness calls us back to Falleen we shall see, but for now we must remain hidden elsewhere."

 

With that, Akheron began to turn heading a nearby shuttle, motioning the two to follow, where several Linnorms waited.

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas

https://jedirp.net/topic/4851-trodai-narat-iv-adas-darth-akheron/

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 "Only in my pain, did I find my will. Only in my chaos, did I learn to be still. Only in my fear, did I find my might. Only in my darkness, did I see my light." - Darth Akheron

 

I survived the Great JNet Outage of 2012

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For a moment, a wave of hatred came off Solus in the Force. However it was only for a moment, as a wave of mutating madness rippled on the Impossible Geometries. The things that had latched onto the spirits had returned to Solus’ mind, and in the process, brought something to him.

 

“Oh shush shush, yes I understand, but now is not the time.” Solus started to coo as his hand went up to his opposing shoulder to stroke something not there. “Yes, yes, darkness comes in many forms, but for now I listen to master. ”

 

If Solus was trying to be secretive about what he was saying, he certainly wasn’t trying very hard.  He was loud enough for everyone to hear. 

 

Solus glanced towards the newest apprentice @Bernon Mrrgwharr. “Oh that's right, you can’t see it. I forget that I am the only one here trained in something more…exotic. Here, new one, let me enlighten you…”

 

For a moment, Solus focused on the Madness inside of him and directed it. His lessons at the Temple already started to bear fruit, as the hallucination was now being given an ounce of life. A step towards performing the Ritual of the Wyyrlok, this ability held no malice. Solus only wanted to let the new apprentice see what Solus saw. 

 

To Bernon and only Bernon, if he chose to not strongly resist, he would see the thing on Solus’ shoulder. The Rat-like thing was almost hairless, its skin covered in warts and glowing pustules. Its tail splitted into several ends, wrapping tightly around the Shard’s chassis so its hands could scratch its head. Instead of a face with teeth, under its 5 glowing blue eyes was a mass of tendrils, with a singular human finger poking out, being chewed upon. 

 

“Isn’t it amazing how many times a master can fail and yet remain a master? What wonders will they show in failure I wonder?” the thing asked as it devoured the finger. 

 

“Alright, back home you go…” Solus ordered, not breaking his gaze or focus from Bernon. The thing, under Solus’ command, quickly swallowed the finger and climbed onto Solus’ head. Once atop, it seemed to squeeze and shift its body as it moved unnaturally through the cracks of the chassis. Once it got inside completely and out of view, Solus looked away, the ritual complete. 

 

“Come, come, let's not keep my master waiting.” Solus turned and began to follow his master. “Hopefully Falleen will be alright without my attention.”  

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                              Bernon Mrrgwharr watched as Solus showed him his... rat-like hallucination. It was strange indeed, but it was also interesting. Anyways, once he was finished speaking he turned to his unofficial Sith Master, Darth Akheron, then thought and spoke aloud. "Master, if I may ask, will not my Master Inmortos require a host for his life to continue and for his immortality to flourish?" He did not know exactly how it worked, but he figured his Master would be most displeased if he returned without a vessel for his soul to take over, and he did not want that, not at all. He did begin to follow Darth Akheron into the ship, but still wondered how he would serve his Master in getting him a host. Then, a dark thought hit him, what if Krath Inmortos, were to attempt to possess him. If his Master chose to, he absolutely could, and he himself would have no power to stop him, he was merely an Apprentice, and his Master, he was a, well, he was a Master, but not just that, but a Sith Sorcerer, one who had the power to attempt to rival Lady Calypso even. He could only hope his Master wouldn't try such a thing, because his power and what he did with it was out of his power.

 

                             Once he was inside the ship, he thought a bit more about his future as a Sith Warrior, and began to think up what he could do with such power. He knew as a Sith Lord it would still be dangerous to take on Jedi, but when he eventually became a Sith Master, it would be much easier to annihilate the enemies of the Sith Order. He also thought about Calypso, and how she had wanted them to wait until the time was right to strike, to gather allies and resources, and other such things. He realized as a Sith Warrior, he would best be of service in gaining some form of army for the Sith Order to use, or something like that. Anyways, whatever happened, he knew that he was destined for a lot more than anyone, including him, could imagine, and that one day, he would be remembered as one of the mighty Sith who brought the Jedi Order to it's knees.

 

                             He thought back to the old Sith, and how they had formed an Empire, and how, supposedly, they had many times before as well. He realized that these Sith Empires had always fallen, and that Calypso was right in that the time for a new age of the Sith was now. With Lady Calypso in charge as the Dark Lord of the Sith, the Sith Order could finally, once and for all, be the tool that would cause the Dark Side's glorious triumph against the Jedi Order and their allies. Bernon Mrrgwharr was so lost in his thoughts that he almost forgot that he was in the middle of a conversation, so he stopped and waited for a response from Darth Akheron while keeping completely focused on the conversation at hand.

 

@Karys Narat iv-Adas @Krath Inmortos @Solus

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Darth Mavanger approached quietly, his rage a vortex in the Force, sucking in the light and spitting out a foul miasma of hatred and wrath, even in a dormant state. His hood concealed his mask, but many Sith here already knew him by his stature and weapons alone. The new Dark Lord had made a good show of her power, but she was still new to the galaxy of the present day. He didn't want the throne- not yet. The Sith needed a gentler hand- His would only guide them to all out war, and they could ill afford that now. But his counsel could be useful. He stepped up, climbing the raised position that Darth Calpyso had taken.

 

"Darth Calypso, I am Darth Mavanger, Sith Warmaster under the previous Dark Lord. Should you find yourself a moment away from those below us, I would like a word with you before I depart this twice-damned world."

 

He spoke only loud enough for Darth Calypso to hear him through his mask before brushing past her towards his commandeered shuttle. His words were not for the remnants of their once mighty empire.

 

 

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On 1/2/2023 at 8:18 PM, Karys Narat iv-Adas said:

With that Akheron motioned him and his own apprentice to kneel before he spoke to the new Dark Queen.

 

 "You have erased any doubts from my mind about your power and strength in the Darkness. Your chains are truly broken my new my dark queen. My Dark Lord or in your case Dark Lady. I pledge myself, and my apprentice to you and your decree so long as you are not found wanting in the eyes of the Darkness. Betray the Sith philosophy and the Order, the very Code we stand behind and I shall hunt you personally....a fact you no doubt would enjoy. Until that day my blade, my Wrath and Rage, will be yours to wield against this galaxy. I will bring the vengeance of the Sith to any who would deny us our right."

 

Calypso's mouth quirked almost imperceptibly at the warrior master's words, a trace of a smile flickering across her face when he promised to hunt her down if she failed his expectations.

 

"Go and prepare our way then, Darth Akheron. I look forward to the day when I see you in your element, regardless of what side of the battlefield we each stand on." She did smile then, a small, reserved, cruel smile. For a moment, foresight and imagination coalesced in her mind, and in her mind's eye she saw the wrathful Sith mowing down soldiers like grass, and heard their screams in her thoughts.  "Yes...I truly do look forward to it."

 

3 hours ago, Mavanger said:

"Darth Calypso, I am Darth Mavanger, Sith Warmaster under the previous Dark Lord. Should you find yourself a moment away from those below us, I would like a word with you before I depart this twice-damned world."

 

He spoke only loud enough for Darth Calypso to hear him through his mask before brushing past her towards his commandeered shuttle. His words were not for the remnants of their once mighty empire.

 

As her eyes slid across the masked man, she immediately understood he was not like the Sith she'd seen before. The Dark Side coiled around this one in a manner that... She could not quite put the feeling into words, but there was something different.

 

Or perhaps she simply imagined it.

 

"Warmaster," she said. With a hand, she gestured for any other Sith lingering around the pair to move away. There was an expectation of obedience in the casual, dismissive gesture. "A strategist then. Is that why you did not step forward?" She arched an eyebrow. "I don't doubt I'm standing before a Sith of true ambition."

 

And I also don't doubt that I'm standing in your way, she added silently.

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Darth Mavanger glanced at the new Dark Lord as she spoke. Then it was true- She wasn't from this time. Shemay very well have been from the era of the Old Republic and Old Sith Empire, the one he had so foolishly tried to emulate in his early years. Those were simpler times- The Rebels were naught but a few isolated incidents, and he had been surrounded by allies, both force sensitive and otherwise. In the years of fighting that followed, he'd lost everything. He'd lost brothers, friends, his lover, fallen out of favor with the Dark Lord Exodus. And then, Darth Nyrys had given him a tool. The tool that had pushed his humanity to its breaking point until he lost that, too.

 

"I am as much a warrior as I am a strategist. Your challenge was tempting, to be sure. You do, after all, stand before a generation of Sith that served under me, and beside me in the galactic conflict. But after Nar Shaddaa, the Sith don't need another warrior, leading them to their deaths before they've recovered their strength. Have no doubt that when the time comes, I will take your title or die trying. Maybe it will finally stick. But for now, I have my own objectives, my own plans to enact. You have my word, whatever that's worth in the pit of vipers that are Sith politics, that I will not undermine your rule. I care not for my own glory, only the death of the fools in the Sovereign Alliance."

 

He took a moment before speaking again. At his mention of death, he remembered Naboo. The crucible that had turned him into what he is today- Rage and fury incarnate.  Since the Dark Side had reached out, dragged him back to unholy life, those emotions had never truly faded, although he had better control over them now than he had before. It's what made him so dangerous.

 

"My current objective is to remain on the course plotted by the previous Dark Lord. I will slay any who represent strong leadership within the Alliance, and leave the vultures to tear themselves apart. I know of Akheron's ambitions to grow his little cult. Inmortos wishes to draw ultimate power from the dead. I wish to lay waste to the Alliance. But I wonder, Darth Calypso, what your goal is for the Empire that I have bled and sacrificed for while we rebuild."

 

He did not fear her, or her machinations. She was surely formidable, perhaps she could kill him, and perhaps it would be his final death, but fear was weakness. He was, however, cautious. He told her part of his plan, that she may focus on that, and remain oblivious to what remained. Geonosis had thusfar remained safe from the Alliance, so far into the Outer Rim, but it was only a matter of time before they consolidated their forces and started striking at old Sith holdings. Already, Korriban had heard whispers of interlopers. 

 

He had much to do, but getting to know the Dark Lord was, for the moment, his largest priority.

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13 hours ago, Mavanger said:

"My current objective is to remain on the course plotted by the previous Dark Lord. I will slay any who represent strong leadership within the Alliance, and leave the vultures to tear themselves apart. I know of Akheron's ambitions to grow his little cult. Inmortos wishes to draw ultimate power from the dead. I wish to lay waste to the Alliance. But I wonder, Darth Calypso, what your goal is for the Empire that I have bled and sacrificed for while we rebuild."

 

"My goal for the Empire?"

 

Her face remained neutral as she paused, then answered.

 

"Nothing at all."

 

She locked her gaze onto where his eyes would be, behind that mask.

 

"I suppose its fitting that our goals are not that different. I'm not here to rule the galaxy. Sith before have striven for that, and some have succeeded in one manner or another, only to fall. I'm not here to found some new Infinite Empire to rival the Rakatans. Their own destruction illustrates the fatal flaw in such an enterprise. And, like you, I'm not here for my own glory. I've studied the histories of dozens of terrible Sith Lords who were legends in their day, and all their legacies were ground into dust by the endless turning of time.

 

No, leave those dreams for those who care for them. I desire something else, something more..." she paused as she considered, before smiling as she continued, "...primitive. I want to kill my enemy. Nothing more than that." She gestured up towards the stars, hidden by the clouds. "This galaxy...it galls me. It offends me. It disgusts me." Her lip curled down, genuine vitriol creeping into her voice. "I want to hurt it. I want to see it suffer. I want it to know my hatred as intimately as I do. And then, when its whimpering and begging for some bright hero to come and save it, I want to see it shatter and burn." Her flaring emotions called the Dark Side to her, and the air seemed to quiver like a string drawn taut. "This Alliance...it's the latest iteration of a stagnant status quo, and I want to see it and its entire line finally die." Passion laced her words. "And when I'm through, and the galaxy is ashes and smoke and blood, I want to watch what comes next." She smiled again, almost sweetly, her demeanor flipping as quickly as it had changed. "Whether that's some new Sith Empire, or something else entirely, will be up to the strong and the ambitious to decide. Perhaps, it'll be you who decides.

 

But make no mistake.

 

Anyone who stands between me and my enemy will die." 

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Tros stood and watched the interactions of those before him. There was much strife and discontent amongst the Sith, yet it seemed to be a unifying point as opposed to one that caused more unrest. From a distance without picking up any of the words spoken, he did watch the Sith Lady who claimed herself to be the new Dark Lord converse with Darth Mavanger, the Sith whom he gave out some of his own to help him accomplish his goal at the battle of Nar Shaddaa. In many circumstances, he would have sought to find their readings through his HUD, to analyze and see what sort of tensions or emotions could be present. But for today, he cared not about it. He was here because he felt called, and the feeling had dissipated ever since the grand display of power from the Lady Sith. 

 

On his HUD, a message came in from Kot'dral that they had made it back to the ship, missing only one, the one who seemed to have been possessed by a Sith spirit. He paused though, not responding right away as he normally would have. His mind had slightly changed. It seemed like this new Sith wanted things to web and weave from within their own ranks. Did that include him? He had pledged his banner to the prior to Dark Lords, but this one seemed to be more focused upon her own underlings. It was all understandable, seeing as the Sith did take some heavy losses at the battle. At least far more than his Mandalorians did. Minimal losses for House Solus, and the support of other Mandalorians from it. He was in a much better place than the Sith. 

 

Slowly, he turned away from the Sith and responded to Kot'dral with his own comlink within his HUD. "Warm the ship. We return to the Revenant within the hour. Then we head home to Almas. Alert the Clan Leaders. We meet to discuss the course of action everyone is to be on." He turned around to observe the Sith one last time. He knew it wasn't his last seeing them, as no doubt they would seek him out. It was only natural to ally with one who may have goals similar to yours. Even more so to ally with one that could help you achieve such goals. And he needed the Sith to do their thing in order for him to get what he wanted. And he was damn sure they needed him to do his thing in order to get what they wanted. 

 

The small group of Mandalorians were back in space and onboard the Revenant within twenty minutes, and the Crusader-class corvette was ready ten minutes after that, jumping into hyperspace and headed to its home. Almas. 

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Akheron stoped briefly on his way to the shuttle to hear out the final words of his new Dark sovereign. If she wished to see him in his element, he would soon enough oblige her, in time. In the meantime Aaris III called more than ever...the strange images piercing his mind and calling him back to the dead planet like a beacon, Inmortos calling out. And yet as he passed to continue on to the shuttle, he paused briefly as he passed by the Sith Lord and Assassin, Dictum.

 

 "Sorry to disturb you Lord Dictum, but if you wish you may join us on our journey to Aaris III, if you so desire. Perhaps you may find further learning there, Krath Inmortos archives are vast, I can attest from experience. Think of it as a way to expand perhaps while we see how we can rebuild. Although I would need your decision quickly for we are leaving now."

 

 Akheron awaited an answer, after which the shuttle would depart.

https://jedirp.net/topic/4851-trodai-narat-iv-adas-darth-akheron/

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 "Only in my pain, did I find my will. Only in my chaos, did I learn to be still. Only in my fear, did I find my might. Only in my darkness, did I see my light." - Darth Akheron

 

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With a subtle yet quick flick of his wrists, the Sith Daggers twirled elegantly into the sheaths almost uniformly. The moment of pledges and honor had passed and each went upon their own paths. Dictum had seen this before whenever he encountered other Sith and Darksiders amongst his travels as an Apprentice. And yet, this time it was subtly different, not really a simple passing of the times. There was focus, and purpose, and each were like a cog within a grandeur machine. As Akheron's words reached his ears, his head acknowledged. 

 

"This planet, this world... or perhaps the moment of being here..." Dictum spoke in return, his voice overshadowed by the exhaustion of the previous battle with the dead as he caught his wind. "It's woken something within me. But I yet do not know what it is.... My travels with you and your group is stirring up the Darkness, and it beckons vibrantly. I see no reason to depart from your company... yet."

 

He paused briefly before ending with the yet part, a smirk crossing his face as he shifted his weight and form to follow the group toward the shuttle. It was time to see where his path with them would lead him next. Without looking back, he offered Akheron the lead. "Let us depart."

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"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?" - Edgar Allen Poe

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Darth Mavanger considered her words for a while before responding. The truth in her words was evident in her passion and the Dark Side's reaction to it. But what wasn't was whether she included the current Sith in her hatred of the Galaxy. She spoke as though she intended to lead them on the path of destruction, but had left it ambiguous as to whether or not that would include their own. He sighed, looking at her.

 

"I must tell you Calypso. I have lost everything for the Sith. Brothers, friends... lovers. I've protected our empire at Kuat and Corellia countless times, and I've burned theirs to the ground at places like Naboo and Nar Shaddaa. I've defied one Dark Lord, and followed another into madness. I have slain a Queen and claimed a world, and I have slain an Empress and toppled and empire, all in the name of the Sith Empire. Even though my life is not dictated by the whims of the Empire, I will not stand idly by and watch as you burn the results of my suffering and sacrifice down alongside the Alliance to satisfy your lust for destruction. I've made that mistake once before. I have no plans on getting between you and your enemy, as long as that doesn't include the Sith."

 

He let his words sink in for a moment before continuing.

 

"But these are not words of war, nor a declaration of my opposition. Make no mistake, when the time comes I will challenge you for the throne, as is the way of the Sith. But that day is not today, and until it is, our interests align. If you learn of someone who needs to be slain, simply inform me and I will do so."

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Acheson nodded his head approvingly, the words Dictum spoke resonating within him. It was true, that the Darkness seemed to stir and beckon vibrantly...more so since their small had grown. Something was happening and the Darkness was moving it's pawns about, just as the planet they currently a good on seemed to call out at least to some. But for now he had other matters to attend to, for one seeing what was next in their plans. What lay ahead in way of rebuilding and how could the Sith show the galaxy they were not done just yet.

 

He spoke briefly.

 

"So be it, if that is your wish. May the Darkness continue to beckon and grow in you under our company. Aaris III awaits."

 

Not when they still had breath. The Fanged God demanded retribution and Akheron was more than willing to collect the souls to feed it. But for now Aaris III beckoned, yet little did the pilot know his fate. For he had been chosen from among many others....not for his physical strength alone but for his strong will and ability to command the force. A vessel chosen for a purpose. A mind soon to be broken and relished by Inmortos. A sacrifice to the Sith cause capable of holding the spirit of the necromancer and not crumble so quickly.

 

As Dictum entered two shuttle and the hatch closed behind them, Akheron couldn't help but wonder if he would remain with them indefinitely. Perhaps so. He hoped so, for the Clan needed new blood.

 

Contemplating his next steps, Akheron remained silent thereafter as the ship took for the void of space and Aaris III beyond. Meanwhile his flagship remained behind, it would watch over Ziost and monitor for any Sith. At least for now.

 

(Next post on Aaris III).

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas

https://jedirp.net/topic/4851-trodai-narat-iv-adas-darth-akheron/

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 "Only in my pain, did I find my will. Only in my chaos, did I learn to be still. Only in my fear, did I find my might. Only in my darkness, did I see my light." - Darth Akheron

 

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On 1/22/2023 at 12:57 AM, Mavanger said:

"I must tell you Calypso. I have lost everything for the Sith. Brothers, friends... lovers. I've protected our empire at Kuat and Corellia countless times, and I've burned theirs to the ground at places like Naboo and Nar Shaddaa. I've defied one Dark Lord, and followed another into madness. I have slain a Queen and claimed a world, and I have slain an Empress and toppled and empire, all in the name of the Sith Empire. Even though my life is not dictated by the whims of the Empire, I will not stand idly by and watch as you burn the results of my suffering and sacrifice down alongside the Alliance to satisfy your lust for destruction. I've made that mistake once before. I have no plans on getting between you and your enemy, as long as that doesn't include the Sith."

 

He let his words sink in for a moment before continuing.

 

"But these are not words of war, nor a declaration of my opposition. Make no mistake, when the time comes I will challenge you for the throne, as is the way of the Sith. But that day is not today, and until it is, our interests align. If you learn of someone who needs to be slain, simply inform me and I will do so."

 

Calypso inclined her head in a gesture of respect.

 

"I have no intention of destroying the Sith. Honestly...I'm not sure if I could. How many thousands of years have the Jedi been trying to do the same thing?" She shook her head. "The dream of the Sith Empire is not one of mine though. In truth, I don't think such an Empire is even possible without an enemy to unite us. If we should ever conquer the galaxy, I foresee us fracturing and warring with each other in endless struggles for power and position." She smiled, her dignified veneer breaking for a moment. "By the Force I'd love to see that. But perhaps you know something I don't. Or perhaps we simply disagree on that point."

 

She cocked her head, her gaze becoming more intense.

 

"Or perhaps you're more ambitious than I give you credit for. When all is said and done, I only wish to use my power to tear this stagnant galaxy apart. Your appetite would far exceed mine, if you would use your power to tame the very nature of the Sith." There wasn't a trace of mockery or deception in words. "A true conqueror."

 

She shrugged then. "But in the end, that's the beauty of our truth. It doesn't matter which of us is right or wrong. It only matters who's the stronger. Rest assured conqueror, when you come for me your Empire will be intact. It's a useful tool to keep the Sith from killing each other before our enemy is defeated, if nothing else. And when you do finally come for me, we will decide the fate of the galaxy between us.

 

The destroyer or the conqueror.

 

I look forward to learning the answer."

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  • 3 weeks later...

Darth Mavanger nodded slowly. He was talking to an ancient creature, he knew that much. She had likely seen cycles within cycles within cycles. But that did not make her omniscient on the ways of the Sith.

 

"There is truth in your words, Sorceress. The Sith have always been their own downfall. I would often debate such a topic with Lord Xahl, a dear friend of mine. He had the same mindset as you did- The Sith were destined to grow, unite, then fracture under the weight of our own hubris. I've always believed that growing out of our more... self destructive tendencies was the key to the survival of the Sith Empire. But that is something easier said than done, for they spawn from what it means to be a Sith at it's very core. If we don't seek to topple each other for power and position, do we truly uphold the most valuable tenants of our order? But that debate died with him over Kuat. Struck down by a coward who would sooner flee than face the consequences of his actions."

 

He inhaled slowly, remembering that moment. Xahl's smoking corpse tumbling across the durasteel ground, slick with the blood of the rebels they had just killed. A man struck down by his own lightning. A stark mirror to his own philosophy, and the first of many to die in Mordecai Valar's quest for conquest. One that would be warped into a crusade of vengeance, who's final victim was the man himself. All that was left now was Darth Mavanger, the Sith Warmaster. Fury incarnate, as unkillable and the Sith's ancestral rage.

 

Sorrow bled into rage, which in turn brought on more sorrow. They were two sides of the same coin, a vicious cycle of death and mayhem. But he had the power to break it. Whe nthe Imperials and the Alliance lay burning at his feet, when those responsible for this collapse of an empire had met their Empress in the afterlife, the circle would finally be broken.

And his chains would be broken.

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Aboard the Heart of Darkness, the flagship of Darth Akheron, the commander. A force-sensitive called Sirius Tur'ean gazed out at the stars and the frost bitten planet below. He had the responsibility of looking after the ship and handling any issues while Akheron was away. To keep order in what remained of the Clan in his stead. This included monitoring any com chatter and to pass any messages on to the Sith Master as warranted and in order of importance. 

 

One such message was soon intercepted, one of high threat and value. Sirius almost gasped when he read it. It was just as Akheron had said might happen one day, although it was unexpected it would happen so soon. The Sovereignty, Jedi and Imperial Knights had come for Falleen. For that was the meaning of Code F4403 Invasion. It was a highly encrypted message sent from Falleen or another power base to inform of imminent attack upon it, in this case the code was for Falleen...a message sent if there ever was a imminent threat, beyond the capacity of the local Linnorms to handle, by any of the three major players and informing that this direct threat posed a significant challenge to the recruitment and ship production on the planet that was being conducted in the name of Sith and Clan Brasganu. 

 

He was quick to redirect the message to Akheron himself, hopefully it reached him.

 

In the meantime he also followed the protocol in place should this happen. Sending a message to the Sith military hub, or what remained of it and thus any Sith listening. Encrypted as it was, he sent a request for aid. 

 

 "Attention my lords and ladies. We have just received word that Falleen has been attacked by a unknown number of potentially hostile Sovereignty, Jedi and Imperial Knight ships, troops and most likely Jedi or Imperial Knights themselves. Lord Akheron asks for aid to be rendered to protect vital Sith assets that would aid our rebuilding efforts. He would appreciate any volunteers to help clear the upstarts and reclaim his powerbase to restore order to Falleen and send a message that the Sith and he are not to be trifled with. And any effort to assist would be rewarded by way of a boon or favour."

https://jedirp.net/topic/4851-trodai-narat-iv-adas-darth-akheron/

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 "Only in my pain, did I find my will. Only in my chaos, did I learn to be still. Only in my fear, did I find my might. Only in my darkness, did I see my light." - Darth Akheron

 

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Darth Mavanger glanced at his communicator, his moment of introspection interrupted by a message marked as urgent across all Sith communication networks. He scowled, listening to its contents. He looked at the Dark Lord, nodding his head.

"It seems our work never ends. I will handle this ill-planned call to arms, and do what I can to cripple the Jedi. Until we meet again, Darth Calypso."

 

He send his own message through the communicator, his unique identifier notifying any who saw it of his role as Sith Warmaster. It would remain his job until Darth Calypso said otherwise- Any who would cast doubt on his worth would meet his blades, as every previous foe had.

 

"By order of the Sith Warmaster, all forces are to belay that order. To reveal ourselves at such a critical time would undo everything we have looked to do. I will handle this incursion myself, but we will not hold Falleen."

 

He quickly boarded his shuttle, departing Ziost, and powered his hyperdrive, bound for Falleen.

Edited by Mavanger
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  • Esterhazy changed the title to Ziost
  • 3 weeks later...

Standing upon the precipice of a cliff overlooking the vastly frozen world of Zoist, the harrowing of wind and lost souls brushing across his small stature, yellow eyes glared across the landscape and to the air in which an eternal storm brewed malovently. Three years of research, three years of remaining in the shadows of the old ones, had led him to this crescendo of time. He had finally found the key to his future, the power to unlock the door to creation and life. A world reborn from gluttonous destruction of death, hanging upon the charged air with a soft whisper. The Hutt had done well. 

 

His small stature descended from his perch and he came to the valley's floor with fulfillment and purpose. For what began on Lehon would certainly end here upon Zoist. A Sith Lord with no direction would raise up his destiny and meet fate upon the Dejaak Board with joy. He could feel the power of this world, the remnants of the Hutt whom brought forth eternal hunger, and he basked in it's feat. Sith had always been destructive, and for the Hutt's creation, was born of heresy and will, something all others should aspire to. Madness, yet, Mastery. It was true inspiration. 

 

But Sia shouldn't be so callous as to easily lose himself in the feats of others, nor concern himself with the Sith that had not so long ago gathered here. For his purpose here held little to do with them, only what each brought with them. Power, immeasurable amounts, looming across it's veiled surface. It radiated and permeated with the Darkness of its core, it's wound tore asunder like the maw of the Hutt's infamous madness. And above him upon it's horizon, it gathered collectively, brewing and boiling into a concoction of madness so concentrated that it's power rolled across it's form.

 

It was a perfect Nexus, a nexus of Madness and Gluttony, a nexus of @Sheog the Mad.

 

Crimson colored lightning arched across it's blackened collection, the presence of static coursing the air and charging its intensity, as the howls of the afterlife beckoned all to hear its call. Snow covered his boots and grieves as he trekked against the storm, the echo of each breath he took reverberated silently as it was swept away from his rebreather and the darkened steel threatened to freeze his stumps solid. But he did not relent, for this was a temporary state. His goal, his purpose, was in his grasp, and nothing could stop him from binding it to his whim.

 

With each step, the crimson lightning illuminated to world in a blood saturated hue as the explosions of thunder erupted and clashed above all else in announcement and warning. Death was it's greeting and flame it's goodbye. A stumbled hand reached out toward the heavens in offering, a locked and powerless Holocron present in its palm. Fulgermancy was natural chaos personified, empowered by the imbalance of freedom and will, and delivered by madness. This was it's key. A Darker than Dark realm of infinite power born from an unholy trinity of life, death, and creation. And in its focal point, a culmination of it's existence, would be the wounded nexus that wrought it's decree. Sheog had created the perfect storm with his sacrifice. 

 

In a daring call into the Force, binding it's will to his own, Sia beckoned it's answer. With a blinding flash of crimson streaking from the heavens, it did.

 

(Fulgermancy Post 1)

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The heat of the electricity threatened to fuse flesh with cloth as the discharge of static threatened to topple his small stature against the melted snow. Yet, in the palm of his hand, the Holocron he held lit with its crimson core charged and matter became of the mind. Darkness of self clashed with darkness of nature and chaos, and beneath the crystals that shielded his eyes, the truth of Fulgermancy was revealed, the contents of the Holocron splattered across his gaze.

 

Beneath the lenses that covered his eyes, they melted away like butter against the intense heat as it coursed across his form, leaving streaks of burnt flesh and fused cloth. The metallurgy that fused with his form heated red and became like plasteel as it dripped upon the revealed ground of Zoist beneath his feet. And yet this pain, in its glory, was power to claim and bind to his will, even as the pathways of energy marked his form eternally, a semblance of scorched tattoos beneath his robes. 

 

From the hand that held the enlightened Holocron, it coursed his veins and muscles as it ran down his arm, flowing fiercely across his veiled chest toward his heart, and from his heart, it split across his torso and stomach toward his limbs where it sought to escape. But Sia held no intent to let it escape just yet, his mind reacting to its course with determination and curiosity to understand why this potential power was limited amongst the Sith. And as his mind raced along side the fierce power, his mind, heart, throat, gut, and loins became focal points that expanded his own potential before finally he released the energy as he outstretched his other hand and let the crimson bolt escape his grasp.

 

His form fell upon the scorched earth that had became this point of Zoist is his beaconing, and for a brief moment, his body could not retain his soul. With pained breaths, he could feel his heart slow to a near crawl until for a brief second, it stopped all together. As his soul yearned for release, he could feel these pathways within him begin to receed and close one by one, until the pathway within his chest began to fade and his consciousness sought to die. His last thoughts were immediately of failure.

 

But in failure, there is the chance of success. And in his brief momentarily respite of retaliation, Sia refused to let this be his end. Just as his soul felt the final peeling of flesh and the pathway of his heart seemingly closed, a fire ignited within his spirit and as quickly as he sought to die, he fought to live. If the Force brought forth life, then so could the energy he felt course through his form moments before, and in a last ditch effort, beckoned the storm's call once again.

 

In what would be his final breath, the vergence of life and chaos, Sia ripped the Force to his will and brought forth another bolt to his call. As the static around him charged and the molecular energy around him became feverish, he felt the power once more and felt it direct as the energy coursed his form in revival. Arching the pathways it had first forged, it delved deeper into his flesh and into bone as it returned the life it sought to steal, an equivalent of exchange for the knowledge he sought. And as it receded back to the heavens in its contention, breath returned to his lungs as his heart beat once again.

 

And yet, now came the true testament of his resolve, as he laid there burnt and broken, the crimson Holocron glowing with anticipation to release its full knowledge held by blackened hand. Here he laid amidst a puddle of melted snow, wounded and broken as fused metal melted away and his rebreather half functional, his will his only substance. Reaching his hand out, he grasped at frozen snow and permafrost beneath as he began to pull himself against the ground. And what eyes he used to see goo beneath the very mask that hid his form. Yet, as vividly as he once saw, he saw things ever more brightly. He could see energy in its purest form, not only in himself, but upon the ground and in the air like strokes of a paint brush upon a lingering canvas. And in his mind, he could procieve the flow of the cosmos with hardly a thought.

 

(Fulgermancy Post 2)

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To percieve the flow of the Cosmos was almost maddening for a being who had only seen darkness and found brightness to be harmful. And yet, in a Miralukian sense, the brightness that born itself in the darkness brought new sight to be questioned and understood. His burn form now laying upon the stained snow, flesh blistered and scorched the only anguish of life felt in the moment, Sia grew weak and tired from his few meters of crawling and pulling himself toward salvation. 

 

Rolling over onto his back, the hiss of his augmented rebreather spoke of his struggle deeply, his fleshed lungs scarred to the bone just as the rest of his form. Even as he gazed upon the energies in the sky above him, he coughed and strangled on his own fluids, a mixture of mucus and blood threatening to drown him. And yet, he smiled beneath the cloth and bone that hid his form, for power attained was power to be used without consequence nor limits. For if knowledge was power, and Power was strength, then what he held in his scorched hand was a newfound strength to be bolstered and nurtured. With a bend of his thumb, he pressed the Holocron's activation symbol, his blinded gaze littered with the contents across the wind as it's energies fused with what he saw.

 

And understanding was birthed...

 

This holocron was forged from darkness and chaos, birthed to grant its contents to those willing to seek its knowledge. It required sacrifice and logic, faith and science, to truly understand the culmination of the Force and Energies, how the two intertwined and were symbiotic upon each other despite being two separations. And with this understanding came forth the knowledge born from understanding its separate and yet symbiotic flow with the natural and unnatural alike, a creation of the Darkside meant to coexist with the natural order of life.

 

Fulgermancy was a natural order to the Chaos, a natural light amidst the darkness with the cruelest of intent and discerning. It was to know the enemy not only through a shared understanding, but to know their greatest strengths and weaknesses through the energy of thought and synapses. It was to know the mind of the enemy as much as one's own and to understand the electrical impulses both foreign and domestic within one's self as much as the others. And yet, it could be so much more, to understand the synapses and impulses of everything that makes up the Galaxy. And it's intent was to use this to its advantage.

 

Metallurgy that could be enhanced to focus one's own proficiency, Machinations that could be created to exercise upon the weaknesses of others. And the energies to provide such understandings. It was all there for his mind to gaze through hollowed eyes. And yet, as he laid there gazing upon the brightened energies spelling out the information he took in, it held one last gift to grant as the energies collected by the lightning of Zoist's gluttonous storm pierced his mask and bore its contents into his brain before the Holocron returned to its dormant state.

 

When he awoke to the energy latent darkness of his blindness, melted snow soaked his form and nerve endings twitched uncontrollably as he rolled back over and began to drag himself once again. Even as pained continously coursed his form, he fought to survive and relish what he had long sought and the power it granted beyond expectations. There was so much to do. So much to create. Damn his feeble form.

 

(Fulgermancy Post 3 - Your post @Krath Apothos)

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Apothos wandered the wasteland, a withered neimoidian in a cobbled mecha-throne. The cold wind whistled around him, and he seemed as alien as anything in this desolate landscape. Why he remained, though, was simple.

 

Opportunity.

 

A Sith gathering. A new galaxy. Power, ambition, and uncertainty all colliding in a single, rare instance, a fulcrum on which the future of the Sith would turn. It wasn't Apothos, but the conniving Nok that saw the potential for such an event. The paths of so many powerful and hungry individuals crossing represented possibilities that could be exploited, and the former criminal knew how to smell out that kind of prospect.

 

It was his sense of the Dark Side that lead him here, to this otherwise unremarkable patch of desolation. He'd sensed the pulsations of power like watching the ripples in a pond after a rock was dropped in. Here was the epicenter. And there...that little figure was the source.

 

"Hello, little one," Apothos croaked.

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For what seemed like eternity were passing moments as he laid within the warmed mud left by the energy that pierced his soul and mind, leaving behind a disabled and limp form. But Sia's consciousness, it remained vibrantly aware and energetic, taking in all that was presented to his gaze. To see the Galaxy in a whole new light, alive and bustling, and in one portion of himself, it sickened him. But my oh my, the energy, the pathways, the possibilities of corruption and potential to disease, it was boundless and infinite. 

 

His blinded gaze shifted as the words echoed around him, the energy within him glimmering behind the cracked lenses that once shielded his melted eyes. A soft lingering breath left his form as he took in another, his rebreather both fused and hindered to his lungs as he looked upon the energies of Apothos, energies that would have blinded him had he still held eyes. Like a spector, he grasped at the energies that flowed around his form and climbed an invisible ladder until he stood upright despite his lost limbs and his gaze was closer to eye level as the two blind beings met.

 

"Neimoidian..." He spoke, his voice otherworldly and distant despite the two being mere feet from one another. His form remained limp, almost deathly, as he stared through the Cosmos upon this being before him. "I am Darth Sia. No more, no less. And you carry the Darkness upon you well."

 

In the way he spoke, there was a subtle hint of hesitation, an almost praisingly aura of distrust in how he formed his words. And it would come across as so, his fascination with the energies that filled the alien's form to the point that he almost despised the creature. And yet, respected his potential and degree of power. As he lingered there above the ground, his robes flowing upon the freezing breeze as it's energy swirled around them, he gave an unwelcomed bow.

 

But such was Sia's nature. He distasted and loathed other beings at face value on one hand, but tolerated them out of necessity and socially needs within the other. And for those like the Niemoidian before him, he respected them vaguely for their contributions and knowledge. And in his weakened state, he needed more help than what he wished to reveal. Even as he struggled to stay upright, his form swayed against both the air of Zoist as well as his consciousness as it threatened to fade again. He needed medical attention, and a new rebreather to replace the one that was fused upon his lungs, at the very least.

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  • 2 weeks later...

The blind neimoidian sat back in his throne, his sightless eyes staring out into space.

 

"You look like death, Darth Sia."

 

He paused, before an anemic chuckle escaped his mouth at his own weak joke. Then, he frowned, head cocked as if he could hear something.

 

"Your rebreather...it needs attention." He looked from side to side, dramatically taking in the wasteland they stood in. "...and it doesn't seem like you have much in the way of help." Apothos extended his hand. "I can fix it." Like the tendrils of a deep sea creature, Apothos' awareness extended and touched inner workings of the jawa Sith's rebreather, although Darth Sia's own will immediately repulsed him. Mechu-Deru could only do so much when uninvited.

 

"Let me in, and I can restore it for you." He smiled again. "Consider it an investment."

 

Apothos would not lie and say that he could be trusted, and he doubted Sia would have believed him anyway. The question was, would the jawa see the opportunity here...or the threat?

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