Königreich des Teufels - Demolished Sith Academy (Carida)

[Guest]

Piro stood up a left the throne room. He ignored what jsut happened as he left for his ship. He sat back down in his quarters and began to meditate.

[Daben Celt]

*A being dwelled in the shadows, ever-watchful of the dark beings that were on this planet. Study was all-important.*

[darth shadowlord]

A ship exited hyperspace over the planet. It took a moment to adjust its navi-computer, then began to head straight for the atmosphere.

 

Draken engaged the sensors and found that several turbolaser batteries were pointed at his ship. Nevertheless he waited till his ship got past the atmosphere before he commed the academy.

 

--comm-- This is the ship, Jedi Assassin piloted by Draken Shadowlord. Requesting permission to land and that the turbolasers not target my ship. --end comm--

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

DMD leaned back, with his left eyebrow raised. It was not because he could not didn't want to train her. He was caught off guard by her question. In his mind, he imagined her asking him something completely different.

 

"Tarrian, you honor me with your request, but I have not trained anyone for ten years. You are a master and you deserve the respect that comes from all of your hard work. My methods are unorthodox and sometimes cruel. I reserve such teachings techniques for hopefuls and apprentices. I wouldn't want to subject you to that.

 

He slid back toward the headboard of his bed. He repositioned his pillow to support his back, as he sat up with his arms crossed. He tried to look everywhere else in the room except at her, but it didn't work. She was everywhere, not in the physical sense, but in the mental. His conscious placed her face everywhere along with his words, "I will do what ever you ask of me, Lady Tarrian." For a moment he considered she might me using Sith magic to influence him, though he quickly dismissed it. DMD knew what it was. He was starting to feel something for this woman. He had never been the type to break his word and he didn't plan on starting now.

 

"I retract my previous statement. I accept your request. When do you want to start?"

[Tarrian Skywalker]

Tarrian sat back and watched him... she waited while he got comfortable... "I am not fragile... I will not break... " It was true she was a master, and had earned her title through years of work... but she was not where she wanted to be... she wanted it all... to master every aspect of the force... and always one aspect alluded her other then the basic level...

 

She smiled when he spoke that he would train her... and she stood up and moved to his side... "I am not to confident as not to be able to call another master... but... if you do this... you can not treat me any different then you would another... you can not hold back on how you would train ... "

 

She touched his face softly... "We can leave as soon as you are rested and ready... I have food being brought you... and I need to check on some things, and will wait for you in the dinning hall... " She turned to leave and looked back at him... "I am glad that you returned... "

 

She headed back to the dinning hall and sat down... she was sure that he would not be too long.

[Exodus]

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Through passion, I gain strength.

Through strength, I gain power.

Through power, I gain victory.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

The Force shall free me.

 

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion

 

One must be ever conscientious of our emotions. Often times it will lead us to a higher plane of power while on other instances it can weaken and turn our own against us. One thing that apprentices are taught from a very young age is to never overlook your feelings, but control them. Control is a very important thing. How much control you need means how much discipline you'll get.

 

True power of the Force lay not through contemplation and passivity, but rather by tapping into the emotion-filled and hateful energies of the dark side. It is your undying passion for things; anger, hatred, fear - that fuel your power, your resolve of the Force.

 

Through passion, I gain strength.

 

Our feelings make us strong. We become headstrong and more determined to succeed. It feeds both our mind and body to achieve. Without pain, victory has no meaning. Without chaos, you do not advance. Without strife, there is only stagnation. Your history will endow you with such pain, if not ”“ your future will hunt you until pain is found.

 

Through strength, I gain power.

 

Strength comes within us, from our passion. When we exert it as the force it becomes power. It is not a crime to crave more of it, but be forever mindful. Conflict forces change, growth, adaptation, and evolution. Conflict ensures that the strongest survives. If you do not conquer power

 

Through power, I gain victory.

 

The Force is our servant and our master. Our teacher and our companion. A weapon and a tool. Know it and you know the universe. Master it and you master the universe. Strive for perfection and the Force shall reward you. Without power, without pain, without passion you will become nothing more than the quench for blood thrist. Others will find you, and rid you of your existence purely to satisfy themselves or their own goals.

 

Through victory, my chains are broken.

 

Do not confuse such victories, but believe that unless victory proves your superiority, it is merely an illusion or furthermore an experience. Once true victory is accomplished, you will feel the ever-allusive pull of flaw weakening by your blood filled hands.

 

The Force shall free me.

 

Fear can be planted into the hearts of the ignorant; it can be used towards our advantage and against us. Without knowledge, ignorance prevails and the minds of many will become closed-minded. We must combat the fear of our hearts before combating the fears of everyone. Our worst enemy is ourselves. This is simply my standpoint on such; you may create your own. Truthfully, these words will make or fracture a weak mind. Comprehension of the code is inevitability, if you do not hold such a prerequisite ”“ Then disappear and never reveal your face in my presence again."

 

--

 

It was unmistakable that the submergence of mind was too much for Taim, it rendered him feeble and dormant. The simulated seas would effortlessly smother his mind into a vegetate state, and so proved he was not yet ready. Instead, the philosophies were once again spoken anew and with suspicious expression as if Exodus himself began to see a twisted view of the code, a code he would keep to himself if any.

 

It saddened Exodus to see such potential slowly dissipate, but time could not be played with. Exodus would not sacrifice his own hunger for power in order to satisfy another's. Eying the Noghri with a most discriminating look, the Sith Lord would place the prominent mask upon his face once more, not before turning his back to his apprentice conceitedly and exiting the spacious dormitory.

 

In spite of the moment, allowing Taim to drown in his own feelings of disappointment, nothing less than seven foreboding bulks of assassin droids wildly unrolled into offensive, surrounding the Sith apprentice.

 

Exodus understood that Taim was full-well capable of dismantling each and every one of them. But this time, he desired to feel his soothing anger throughout the entirety that was this temple; to feel his smouldering sorrow seeping throughout each and every crevice.

 

Otherwise, he was better off dead”¦

[Alora]

The Night's Fury arrived back over Cardia, Alora seeing Draken's ship still in orbit waiting for admittance as well. For all his hurry to arrive, it hadn't done him much good. The sith master sent down her clearance codes, also clearing both her apprentices ships as well, allowing them to land. Receiving clearance she headed down to land, setting down near the Academy. She went through her post flight checks, setting the security measures and voice codings before she and Zad left the ship.

 

"I feel your lust for power Zad. I want you to focus through the force. While the other two are creating their crystals, I want you to go to the library and study lightsaber forms. Once you have found the one you want to train in, go to a training room and fight the training droids."

 

Alora left him then, stretching out her senses she could feel her old apprentice. A grin appeared on her face as she made her way to where she felt him to be, releasing a hint of pheromones as she approached him.

 

"Hello there Exodus... it has been a while..."

[Exodus]

The black spectre dominated the hallways with his ominous presence, every step pounding masses of absolute darkness throughout the very academy itself. His mind proposed diverse amounts of reflection, contemplating even the most recent situations to the most historic. More importantly, what if Dominique had failed as well, what if she ran into danger on her path; something Exodus would not have.

 

Just as Exodus was near entirely succumbed by contemplation, a most notable aroma sunk its teeth into his neck; Seducing him gradually to the point of being irritatingly inquisitive. Then it hit him, the voice in which eluded him for what seemed centuries. If one could perceive his lashing tendrils of the darkness at this point, they would be quick to make haste in the other direction. Why did it anger him so, to see her? To hear the voice in which he admired in a distant time”¦

 

”œYou”¦ After all this time”¦ Now is when you show your face?”

[Alora]

Alora could feel her old apprentices anger, the simmering rage within him. It was curious, that he directed it at her, though possibly not unexpected.

 

"It hasn't been all that long my dear. Tell me, how is Dominique these days?"

 

She held a mischievous light in her violet eyes, she had told his apprentice how to use seduction, even to the point of her being pitted against her own apprentices.

[Exodus]

How dare her, blatantly shoving off the seriousness of the matter. Crushing her right here and now would be sufficient enough for even the slightest reparation. In spite of his uncharacteristic sentiments, Exodus came to calm; perhaps, aided by the distinct aroma that hung around his former Master.

 

”œShe is none of your concern.”

[Alora]

Alora sighed, picking up on his temper tantrum.

 

"Don't be like that my dear one. You will always be special to me, you know this, you were my first apprentice. Nothing can change that."

 

She sauntered towards him, her hips swaying seductively. Others may well have run from the fierceness he exuded but she didn't really care. It was the way of the Sith, kill your former master and all that jazz. If that is what come of this so be it, though she would rather a more... intimate confrontation...

[Guest]

Jace Vittor continued to stride through the corridors of the Sith Temple, paying little attention to his surroundings or those that the ex-convict passed. He ran his hand along a stone wall as he rounded a corner. As he continued on his mindless journey, he felt a certain... life, a definite sense of power that resided in these shadowed walls. He wanted badly to touch it, but how? Even though it was only obvious that his soul yearned for the chance to touch the power lurking in his veins, his body could not find the way on its own.

[Exodus]

Doing away with the renowned headdress, placing it to his side and allowing his mass, strands of hair to fall in a most lustrous manner, his out of the ordinary, seductive, organic slithers of devastation would fixate themselves on the woman before him. He had unquestionably developed into a man of wonders.

 

”œShe talks to me as if I am still but a child.”

[Alora]

Exodus had a lot of rage within him, this Alora could clearly see. His aura, blackened with swirls of reds, blues and purples, the dark colours intermingling as she observed him through lidded eyes. Her hands moved to her sides, one gripping the hilt of her saber, the other her whip. It was inevitable that it would come to this. Inevitable that he feel neglected from her prior actions. She had only just begun on the seductresses path when she had begun training him. Back then she wouldn't have dreamed of using sex as a power over her apprentices, now though... it was a different matter. She shared her body fairly freely, as a servant of Slaanesh it was expected of her.

 

She released her outer robes through a flick in the force, letting them flutter to a yellow and pink swirl around her ankles. She stepped towards him, not hesitating to meet him in combat. She could feel his strength... and something else... something... He has the taint of Slaanesh's brother... He didn't apparantly wear his God's colours though, being in ordinary sith robes.

 

"So you wish to dance? And what prey tell is the prize you seek? More power? I feel the signs of your allegance, yet you do not wear his robes..."

 

She held herself ready, gathering the dark energies towards her, letting her own rage build, her eyes taking on the familiar red glint that showed her touch with the darkside...

 

 

((edited for typos))

[Exodus]

Finalizing the thought, Exodus exploded in anticipation whipping his structure in a most inventive manner. His entire body lengthened with his lightsaber out in front. The Sith Lord's visage was seething with a twisted hatred that would no doubt prove his sanity otherwise. Despite what the woman had to say, his absolute transformation sustained.

 

Underneath his reflexive armour buried within his obsidian robes his interior, his very skin would quiver with impulse. His budding muscles trembled with power while the concave hallways sung a requiem for the reaper. Too many options to choose from, Exodus preferred his versatility the most, knowing that on the whole others fine tuned themselves to one art of combat.

 

His immediate force sense rang wild, Alora was unimpressed thus far. But she lacked an ulterior warfare strategy, something that Exodus had and hid well. Choosing to completely pay no heed to the accusation of his service to his god, Exodus smiled. He knew full well that Alora served none other than Slaneesh, of course being the one to rescue his own master and bring her to the planet that that particular god inhabited.

 

”œWatch this”¦”

[Alora]

His moves were impressive, but Alora didn't show it. She could tell that he was out to prove himself and she could see just how much he had learnt since he had been Lorded. He probably knew more than she in certain aspects... her's being more in the more subtle tricks of the trade although she did have some combat skills learnt from experience against Montar and Geki amongst others. Alora had aspirations of learning more... the alchemy side, sith spells and the like, including crafting another weapon using the new skills she wished to learn... when she got to it that was. Right now her mind was focused on following what Exodus was up to.

 

She spun round, following him through the Force, catching his wink and knowing that he was showing off his skills. She also caught his jealousy over her other apprentices, the underlying hatred that they now had her attention over him. She smirked at him, her blade having ignited as soon as his did, her other hand flicking her whip in a distracting manner. She increased the output of pheromones to make it more difficult for her old apprentice to concentrate... the look in her eyes showing that she... liked... what she saw...

[Exodus]

Exodus was oblivious to the affects of this extraordinary use of pheromone manoeuvre. It was something he was never quite perceptive about. Despite the consequences, his concentration dwindled; not hurting him, but assisting his feral movements. This was more than some simplistic boast of prowess, this was much more; continually being underestimated by everyone and all; the pent up wrath escalating beyond unimaginable heights. This was his result; this was his resolve, rather than bickering and crying about the anguish and torture he suffered ”“ he fought it out.

 

Exodus would broaden his grounds while circling his double bladed saber with absolute alacrity. The inconceivable speeds exposed unnatural winds combined with the tempest of darkness rampant throughout him. Of course he was watchful of the problematic whip at her side, but his reaction to such weapons would be hasty and unyielding. His provocation lacked when dealing with someone with such deception, but he would keep this settlement principled.

 

Foreseeing the ideal split second, the dagger concealed within the demon's exquisite robes flung free and with frightening speeds proposed its plunge for the woman's waist. Not leaving a split second for reaction on both ends, Exodus saber threw primary weapon high. The valuable high-low manoeuvre would be united by an instantaneous lash of the force; a terrific surge of darkness that would follow through regardless if either weapon hit.

 

Nothing complicated, simply the beginning.

[Alora]

The dagger hit her, digging into her thickened skin and meshed clothing. A low growl escaped her lips as her blade flashed up to meet his only to be pushed backwards by a wave of the force, simultaneously the dagger pushed into her, the vibroshiv cutting through the mesh and into her body as she resisted the force push. In hindsight, if she hadn't of resisted the push and gone with it, the dagger wouldn't have embedded into her. Alora had been going to take it easy on her old apprentice, had been going about this in a non lethal way, but this... this triggered her rage, made her want to hurt him as he had just hurt her. She leant against the wall, only having to take two steps backwards for the support it offered.

 

Her eyes sparked with pain laced anger, her inner fury mounting as she glared at Exodus for causing her pain. Her whip she replaced on her belt as for a moment she evaluated her wound. The dagger was still embedded in her, she debated pulling it out but felt if she did she would lose blood at a quicker rate. Still, the type of blade it was, she would be better to remove it otherwise it would cause more damage if she did leave it there. Currently it wasn't touching any vital organs, if it remained, the likelihood of it damaging her further increased tenfold. She flicked her wrist, shooting a pure pheromone laced dart into Exodus's neck, guiding it to it's target with the force so he wouldn't divert it, her hand then closing around the hilt of the vibroshiv to remove it. Blood spurted from her as she pulled it from her, an anguished cry escaping her as she launched the bloodied blade back at him in a smooth movement.

 

She gasped with pain, seeing the spurts of blood flowing from her, her hand pressed against the wound to stem the flow. Her saber still on the defensive between them. Alora knew she had underestimated her old apprentice, knew it was a deadly mistake. If she was going to do anything to win this, she would have to act quickly, already she was becoming lightheaded from blood loss and had to work harder to keep her focus. She'd need a blood transfusion before she could be set right at this rate... that is, if she survived it. She was however, a Sith Master. She knew she needed more work on her combat, more practice with the sithly arts and not just her seductive ways. She'd gotten too soft and now was paying the price. She gathered the dark energies to her, dulling her pain and strengthening her resolve.

 

That Exodus would take vengence out on her, hurt more than the pain of the wound. She didn't know if he meant to kill her or what his intent was. In that moment he saw in her mind that he had been the only apprentice that she hadn't taken advantage of, the only one she had respected enough not to use sexual favours as an incentive... This is the way of the Sith... he doesn't care about anything but power... She hardened her heart, hiding the hurt that he would have seen in her eyes and in her mind. She screamed, converting the pain to rage as she raised her blood stained hand towards him, letting loose bolts of force lightning at him from where she leant against the wall of the corridor. It didn't matter if the bolts did him harm or not, the damage had been done to her and she found herself sliding down the wall... a trail of blood left along it...

[darth shadowlord]

Draken landed his ship in the hanger bay and left the ship. Stopping outside of his ship he entered the lockdown code and then headed inside the academy.

 

Once inside, he soon headed in the direction of the forges. But he paused as he felt Alora in trouble. Unsure of what to do, Draken stood where he was debated whether to come to the aid of his master or to fullfil his task. He considered it for a moment and realized that if Alora fell in battle, then there would be no way he could help her anyway, as she must be battling another master.

 

So he continued to walk toward the forge but kept his mind open to the Force and to his link with her. Finally he reached the forge and looked inside. He noticed that there was a narrow seat in the center of the of the forge, which would serve him well as he forged the crystals for his saber.

[Ary the Grey]

((Friggin aliases... ))

Edited December 31, 2005 by Guest

[Taim]

((I don't have long to post...extreme apologies for not doing so already, I was very busy since monday, and I had a nice post ready to go, but time went against me, and now since apparently I failed the post won't work.))

 

Taim's dreams were maddening. He smelled the ocean, felt the spray of water against his rough skin, could taste the salt in his mouth, but saw nothing. His mind struggled, but was just not powerful enough yet to have full control over itself even when unconscious. It was as if someone were holding a black plastic bag against his face.

 

He awoke, a tremendous pounding in his skull, deafening compared to the clatter-clatter of assassin droids that rolled up to attack, possibly kill him. Only one thought blazed through his mind: His master had betrayed him for his failure.

 

Rage sparked through Taim, followed by extreme anger, fury in epitomy. He rose slowly, the weapons on the droids tracking his every movement, a look of pure hatred adorning his facial features.

 

They never got a chance to hit him, his body recoiled, launching him at the first droid, seven shots (including one that whizzed under him, nearly hitting him) simultaneously converged in the spot he once was, exploding into a small fireball. His arm lashed out, snagging the first assassin droid on it's head, swinging his lithe form around and snapping the CPU connectors simultaneously, landing him between another two. He ducked, they fired, and two more piles of slag hit the floor. He wa too fast for them to track, but his movements gave him away. These weren't extra-military grade, luckily, with the extra armor that made them all but unbeatable.

 

A droid arm smacked him to the floor as he turned towards his next victim, and the other three droids closed in for the kill, the first one and another pinning him to the floor. Angst was all he felt, and it swept through him like a terrible tidal wave out on those seas, deadly to anyone that dared stand against it's might.

 

"YOU WANT TO KILL ME??!?! THEN KILL ME!!!!"

 

His hands shot open, his whole body arcing as an incredible burst of energy launched all four droids away simultaneously, taking Taim with one of them. It's head went like the first droid that Taim destroyed, disconnecting the CPU and shutting down the entire droid. The remaining three circled, now wary of the being they tried to murder.

 

But Taimkhal wasn't about to let them finish, either. He drew the mighty Sith sword, holding it at an angle to his back. An unorthodox style, to be sure, but also one of the most powerful and most offensive Taim knew. It sacrificed defense for sheer strength, but the outcome was usually worth the risk.

 

He was a grey blur to the droids, as two droid half-torsos hit the floor, and another crumpling as the blade buried itself in the neck of the last assassin droid. For a few seconds, it was allright, and then Taim himself fell to the floor, blood gushing out of his side. One of the droids had managed to catch him point blank, even as they short-circuited, and the shock had finally set in. The pain wasn't the problem. Taim relished pain, it was what let him know he was still alive.

 

It was the loss of blood, and Taim tried to stop it as best he could, vengeful thoughts of his master passing in his mind until he realized it was all a harsher test due to his failure. Perhaps his master hadn't truly tried to kill him, because he probably would have been dead.

 

He rose, using a torn off piece of robe to stop the bleeding, and limped off to find a medkit, all the while finding his master's presence, who had seemed to leave him a short distance away...

[Yoshiba]

Yoshiba's ship slowly drifted down to the surface of Cardia, and took its place on the landing platform out side the Temple. Yoshiba slowly rose, for he knew that he had to deal with more crap from the masters in the temple, and he wanted to anniliate every one of them.

 

He looked to the droids in the back of his ship, and commanded them to take the ship to its proper place in the storage facility.

 

Roger, Roger they responded together.

 

He put the training remote back in its compartment, and removed his robes. Under them he was wearing black pants, and a long white shirt. He placed his robes on a seat, and he strolled off the ship.

 

He walks past many Sith Masters, Lords, and Apprentices. He looked at all of them with disgust. Why hadn't he just killed that usless piece of crap Master that thought could do something for him. That would have been better then just leaving him.

 

He looked about, and noticed a man walking around the temple, with a vacant look on his face.

 

He strode to the depressed looking Man, an joined him in his walk.

 

*Are you a Master?* He asked the man

((OOC: Just in case there is any confusion, I'm talking to Jace Vittor))

 

He was confident that he could stand the torture he might have to deal with, if he had guessed right, but he asked any ways.

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

For a time, DMD sat there on his bed after he had finished his meal. As he got up and walked around the room, he found his battle suit repaired and his war staff laying against a wall in the corner. After he had gotten dressed, he found his mask located in a beside table compartment. It had been thoroughly cleaned of all the filth he had fell into, during his escape from the Jedi temple.

 

Before exiting his room, he turned to look at it, one final time. There nothing unique or special about it except that it was the place where he had laid his head for more than a day or two. He had forgot what sleepng in a bed felt like. The company he had during his stay, wasn't bad either. The room was symbolic to him. It was a new starting point in his life.

 

DMD walked out into the main hallway headed for the throne room. As he approached the throne room he noticed a scattered group of eager individuals waiting around. He knew exactly who and what they were. Hopefuls. Potential Sith waiting to be selected for training in the use of the dark side. His purpose for going to the throne room was to see if the dark lord might have returned from his siege, though he knew he was not there. DMD would have sensed his immense power through the force if he had been present. There was something else that drew him to this room. His eyes fell on all the hopefuls. He looked at each of them, reading thier souls as he passed by. Only one of them possessed a spirit like his own. A soul hungry for power and the willingness to do whatever it took to achieve it. He didn't stop at this individual, but kept on walking into toward the dining hall. It was not his place to approach a hopeful. The right one should seek him out.

 

Tarrian was waiting for him in the dining hall, as he entered. She looked as though she had prepared herself for a journey.

 

"I am ready to begin your training when you are ready. Two questions though. Are we training here? If not, who will be in charge after we leave?

We are the two highest ranking Sith in the academy right now and Kabuto Ryu did leave you in charge."

[Tarrian Skywalker]

She stood up... "we will need to stay here till he returns... I say we start now... no better time like the present... "

 

She moved towards him and waited... "Lead the way... Master."

[Tekkan Raas]

A prismatic burst in the cluster of stars marked a reversion back into real space, Tekkan Raas sitting at the controls of the small ship as he brought it around into an orbital path around Cardia. Alora was here... he could feel her on the surface; her dark presence drawing him to this place. What he felt in his heart would have to be delayed a little longer, the looming presence of Star Destroyers around the planet deterred him from merely barging down through the atmosphere and landing. Clicking his comm, he hailed one of the Imperial's numerous control stations.

 

"I have business with a Sith and it would be in the best interest of my health to not keep her waiting. Any assistance on your part would be dually noted."

[Exodus]

The mystifying dart plunged into his broad neck, barely breaking through its rough interior, releasing what felt like a stream of conspicuous fortitude. It led to a creation of another reaction, just as tension rose with a sudden tender distress in the forearm”¦ Almost enough to rip muscle, but halting abruptly.

 

A signal; release, go.

 

Forced skyward; His body outwardly weightless, Exodus discovered himself midair, mentally viewing the transmission from ground to gravity-commanded regions as a slow ascension. The personal apprehension of each movement was delicate, allowing a more perfected view of the engagement. A crude touch of indication upon understanding; comprehension was required to save one's self from descending to obvious pain. A resolution was made with swift precision.

 

”œWhen did she...”

[Alora]

She could feel him, up above the planet. It had been such an age since she had seen him, too long. Alot had occured since they had last been together but her love hadn't changed. All this was hidden from her former apprentice though, not a moment of it leaked out. On the other hand, the illusion she had been casting over herself to appear more wounded than she was disappeared when the pheromones cancelled out any other thoughts from Exodus's mind except his growing need. Her skin had however been pierced, the blood on his dagger was indeed hers. The blood pooled on her clothing real.

 

She pushed herself back up to her feet, standing free of the wall, the pain still there. She'd only let loose a small amount of lightning, though the hurt that he had felt from her regarding having respected him enough not to use him to... satisfy... her wanton needs had also been real, she hadn't wanted to use him in that manner whilst he looked to her for training. He had wanted her to notice him, had paraded round bare chested to gain her attention. She had noticed him, in more ways than one. Right now, she could feel the pheromones at work, her eyes lowering then raising again. She shut her saber down, clipping it to her belt.

 

"Your looking decidedly uncomfortable there Exodus. Should I leave perhaps?"

 

She glanced away down the corridor, then back to him. She didn't wish to fight him. Nor did she wish him to attack her either. Would he impale her or let her leave...

[Guest]

A small ship landed near the Sith Temple. Milion got out of it, and paid the pilot, who took of right away. Milion headed towards the Academy. He decided to wait by the entrance, hoping that someone would notice him, and choose him as their apprentice. He felt that being a Sith was the only way he could improve himself, and he was really looking forward to the training he hoped he would get.

[Guest]

((OOC: I'm officially back So Alora if you need me to make up any training I missed just pm me))

 

IC: Raxeon held on loosely to the controls of his ship as it hovered above Cardia waiting for clearance, he looked into the pilot view port only to find himself looking right back at him. He continued to stare at himself, "Where is the power?" Raxeon turned and stared at the treacherous planet of Cardia, Raxeon knew he had gained abilities he had never had before but when would he unlock his true potential? When would he become a true sith?

 

Out of the corner of his eye Raxeon saw Alora's ship The Night's Fury. Instantly Raxeon was reminded of Zad and his ignorant attitude, Rax knew Draken would present no problem when it came to reaching his goals but Zad always seemed to take Alora's time, preventing him from getting the knowledge he wanted so badly. Thinking on this subject some more Raxeon gripped the steering device of his ship as hard as possible allowing the grooves in the device to sink into his skin causing pain that Raxeon pretended wasn't there.

 

After receiving a confirmation of clearance Raxeon continued gripping the steering device with the last amount of energy his hands possessed even as he entered Cardia's atmosphere, "I shall only achieve ultimate power through this hate I possess..... Draken presents no threat to me or my goals, it is the boy Zad that I must keep away from Alora, he can become a problem." With that said Raxeon left his ship to go to complete his task Alora had given him.

[darth shadowlord]

((1 of 3))

 

Draken looked around for a moment, then stepped into the furnace and surveyed the inside of it. It was dark and there were ash marks all over the wall from the many fires that were burning in it. He stepped back outside and paused considering what he was about to do and what would happen if he was to fail at this task.

 

He looked around and found the main switch for the furnace blast door.

 

Draken knew that when he stepped into the furnace it would be all he could do to take the heat and he would have to be as lightly clothed as possible, so he removed his cloak, then his shirt leaving only his pants and boots on.

 

Taking a couple of deep breaths, Draken entered a meditative state and grasped the force and stepped into the furnace. As soon as he stepped in, he turned around and watched as the door slammed shut. He turned back around then knelt on the floor and embraced the heat and the fire.

 

Looking at the dirt on the floor, he noticed the many grains of sand laying there. Feeling the dark seductive power whispering to him, he began to breathe hard and sweat while he manupilated the air in the furnace enough to force the sands to move into a cyclone.