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Aaris III


Tarrian Skywalker

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Slowly the necromancer picked himself off of the hallowed floor, standing as tall as he could face to face with the warrior. His robes were tattered revealing a mixture of rotted peeling flesh and bleached skeletonized bones; the truth of being an accursed Lich. Neither dead, nor fully living, bound in the gray shadows of twilight. Reaching forward, he places a withered skeletal hand on the muscled shoulder of Akheron’s mutant arm. Before he could speak, Somus clanked into view, babbling unintelligibly as he jerked and heaved towards the door. “Your apprentice. He has been filled with the power of the Baptism.”

 

Clearing his throat, Inmortos called to the apprentice. “Find a youth. Bind him in my tower. It will be a witness to our sacrifice.” Turning back to Akheron his voice lowered, “that is if you will allow it? The dark side does not bequeath these gifts without goal or gain. A power like this demands sacrifice. These people are ungrateful, more so they seek to usurp my power. They do not understand the gifts they have been given or the sacrifices such a gift entails. You and I, perhaps even your follower, know this. Our service to the Dark Lord comes with sacrifice. Take your gifts. Join me in one final great sacrifice. Together, we will burn this world. Have your servants gather what treasures you may desire as payment.”

 

Inmortos turned, his skeletal form gliding ghost-like towards the doorway of his temple. Stopping he looked out over the city as it splayed outward, the horizon captivated by the towering swirled blue ziggurat.  Staring out over the world he had been given godship over, Inmortos regarded it for a long moment. The words of Sheog hovered in his mind. He knew what he had to do. Did he have the strength? 
 

Suddenly, a flash, deep within the god-king’s mind’s eye. A world of ash, blown on the wind, clouding the sky. Sulfur and brimstone, death, seared the nostrils. All that remained was one spiraling tower. A world destroyed. The force heaving in grief.

 

And then just as suddenly, he was back. A vision. It had been a vision. Letting go of the mantle he had instinctively gripped to remain standing, long boney indentations left in the soft gold, Inmortos turned back to the interior where Akheron stood. Raising his hand, ripples of then force swirled. The sacrificial dagger that lay within the empty pool careened through the air. It landed heavily in the undead Sith’s outstretched hand. His arm dropped several inches as the weight settled in. It was heavier than before. Laden with the deaths it had inflicted, the razored blade vibrated with the number of lives held within the void. All it would take was a death wrought by the blade to unleash a life within transforming foe to friend; crushing one life and soul to make room for one bound unnaturally to this plane.

 

“Solus.” He called out after the mechanized monster, “death here is a different matter. These lizards are primitive and vicious. They carry the power of the necromancer. Bodies must be vanquished and souls crushed. On Aaris, the dead do not remain so for long.”

 

”Akheron. These ships you brought me. How might I command them? Bend them to my will and together we will turn this vibrant world into a cursed graveyard. Even the force will be dead here, a testament to those who defy the will of the Sith, a message to those who might defy the Lord of Darkness.”Inmortos turned, gliding back into the temple. He whirled by the Sith Warrior carried on an aura of icy breath back towards his burial chamber. Within he cast off his tattered robes, his elixirs and weapons clattering to the floor. From a skeletal mannequin, Inmortos withdrew a splendid cloak of refined denebrillan star silk and wrapped it about himself calling his tools and blades uoward, concealing them in his robes.

 

Clasping his blackened saber hilt in his morphed hand, Inmortos activated his accursed weapon. A blackened void erupted from the hilt. It drew in the light, casting long shadows as steam rolled off the weapon bathing the area about the necromancer in fog. “COME.” the voice of Inmortos carried on the force itself as it spread across his citadel, broadcasting from his throne in the sky.

 

”I am calling  my necromancers to me. They will assemble here, at my temple, or outside my throne room. They are the key to the eternal resurrection and damnation of these people. Kill them. Destroy their souls, a sacrifice of my power to the force and the Dark Lord. Then kill the rest, casting their souls beyond the void to to the nether regions of the force.”

 

 


 

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The chassis of Solus seemed to nod as it heard Innmortos words, but it was hard to tell. Between its random flinchings and jerking around, anything it did was impossible to tell from intent and chaotic. It was like a puppet having its strings rearranged randomly, or a youth learning to drive a vehicle for the very first time. 
But when it got outside,  it’s tune changed completely. Finding an exit to the temple, Solus had begun to leap downwards, landing on a few ledges, but only stopping for a moment before jumping again and again, spinning and twirling on the way down like some Corescanti dancer.
"!ahaha eerf eb ot nuf hcus !nuf hcus ,ahaha!" It belted as it flew downwards. The static in its voice box was louder now, as if whatever that was causing it was more in control. 


When the chassis landed, it got to work right away. The linnorms were elsewhere now, but the populace of the planet had gathered around, both undead and the living. The explosion that had occurred at the temple had drawn much attention, and this strange metal thing that had descended only increased their curiosity.
"!stfig gnirb i!" Solus started. With a flick of the wrist, the lightsaber flew from his belt into hand, activating on touch. "!lla fo tfig tseteews eht !htaed gnirb i!"


The lizards looked confused at the metal beings words, and startled at the weapon. What language did this thing speak? Was this thing sent by their god-king?


They didn't have long to decipher the words. Solus got to work, charging in a curving line like a drunken fool. The blade swung around wildly, no care given to who or what it might have struck. Those that got caught by the swings were quickly ignored as solus continued after those who were still living. Some stayed and tried to fight. Most of them were the undead. Others fled for their lives. Most of the latter were the living. 


"?leef I taht siht si tahw" Solus pondered aloud as he continued to slash about widly. "!ohohohow !era uoy revetahw em ekat !ohoho ti tnaw I si siht revetahW !siht tnaw I !lortnoc tnaw I od ron em lortnoc t'nac I !rettam on rettam on !ahahahawb ?thgil nevig ssenkrad eht siht sI ?ssenkaew dna rewop siht sI"


It took some time before the squad of lizards began to either fall back or be so dissected that the parts were no longer putting themselves back together.

 

However, Solus didn’t seem to mind at all. With no muscles to show exhaustion, and with his Shard fueling his batteries with energy coming from seemingly nowhere, Solus continued on and on, slashing, dancing, and bobbling his way towards a wooden longhouse. 


”!ti dnamed I !tuo emoc tuo emoc“ Solus chanted, slamming a fist on the doors a few times. Inside the startled voices shrieked once.  ”!ni em teL .sdrazil elttil stfig doog gnirb I ?stfig ym tnaw ton uoy od“


At this last phrase, the force exploded, with the door shattering into the longhall. Surprisingly, only one lizard stood inside, clutching a makeshift weapon: a broken chair leg. Beyond him, the only things in the long haul was furniture, a burning fireplace, and several overturned meals. 
Solus strode in, joints still jerking. While his sensors were looking in all directions, he kept his 'face' stayed pointed towards the lone lizard. Dressed in ceremonial robes, solus deduced this person to either be a spokesperson or a priest of some kind. 


"drazil elttil olleH" solus spoke, striding around the hall as if he owned the place. Turning over furniture, kicking fallen plates of meat, solus made a demonstration of his intent. "?meht gnirb I tfig eht meht yned t'now uoy yleruS ?srehto eht era erehW"


The lizard looked confused but frightened. What was this monster? What was this thing that spoke so unnaturally and had skin of the reforged ground? When solus drew closer, it made a desperate swing.
The lizards face became more horrified when solus caught the club with one hand easily and tossed it aside. 


"?yeht era erehw oS .rehtie t'now uoy oS .t'nod I ?ylimaf evah uoY .yvne I .evah uoy tahw tnaw I tuB .thgif uoY .dooG !ahaH"
Solus grabbed the lizard and slammed it into a wall, shaking it violently. 


"?yeht era erehW" He continued to demand.  


The lizard refused to answer, either because of pure defiance or pure confusion. Solus sighed and holstered his blade again. 


"drazil elttil diputs uoy gnitseuqer t'nsaw I" solus commented. The lizard squirmed and began to hiss and scream as solus slowly drove his scoop link into its eye socket. No need to kill it right away. It's death would come soon.  


Slowly, the mist swirled about the chassis head again, solidifying and showing outlines of images. Scenes from a life. This lizard's life. It's parents. Where it found its mate. When it had lost a sibling. Its first clutch of eggs. 


Solus growled at these images and drove the scomp deeper. The metal device whirled and spun like it was seeking some obscure data. 


The images changed. More recent days. The first time the chief saw its god-king. Seeing its brothers come back from the grave. Hiding its children in the longhall. A trap door opening and closing. A turning away as pounding were sounding at the door. 


Solus released and pulled out. Before the body even hit the ground, solus had overturned the nearest table. There, a small indent in the wood with scratch marks from use.


The younglings that Solus revealed squirmed and shook with startelement and fear. Solus instead laughed and raised an open hand. One of the younglings squeaked as she was lifted up without being touched. She was most certainly a child, no more then a few years old. Solus tossed her over his shoulder, her clawed hands beating his back harmlessly. 
".uoy gnola emoC" Solus chuckled, shutting the trapdoor afterwards. With a pull of the force, solus crushed some of the furniture on top, trapping the younglings underneath. With another pull, a burning log was pulled from the fireplace, setting some of the wood ablaze. 


"!yad ylevol a tahW .yad a tahw hO .ssentiw a sdeen gnik ruoY 

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Akheron looked upon Solus, confused by his speech. It was as if possessed and his apprentice no longer had sound mind or body, like a puppet on a string. Something had clearly come through whatever portal they had created during the ritual and snuck in. Or so he thought, they would need to see about remedying that sooner or later.

 

Speaking he answer Inmortos.

 

"It appears so. We will need to fix that sooner, rather than later. He cannot be left in such a state, he has far greater potential than becoming a madman. As to the ships, if you wish command there is no easy way to go about it. You will be required to break them, to bend them to your will and have you earn their trust. There is a way in which we may benefit mutually...you have proven much already and appear to be open to perhaps a new way of looking at things. At the Darkness, perhaps even similar to myself and my apprentice.

 

As such I would be a fool not to make a offer of closer friendship, one that would bind us as brothers even more so than now. I would offer you the chance to join Clan Brasganu, the House Of Dragons. A House more closely connected than some others. As a father Of Dust you would be welcomed as a Lord-Captain, those who are Sith Lords and Masters of great power and the will to burn worlds in the name of the Fanged God and Dark Lady. Who's authority is without question, such as will become your power should you choosse to accept this generous proposal I unto you. This would in turn earn the loyalty of the Linnorms, along with additional benefits.  

 

Chose and become one, Just as a moment ago, and we shall set the galaxy aflame. Starting here."

 

As he waited for an answer, Akheron got dressed, placing his dry robes and all his equipment back in it's rightful place. Last came his mask, again concealing the monster beneath that he had now become. At least other than his eyes and his aura. He noted Solus additional strange movements, as he disappeared to accomplish the task he had been set. One, Akheron approved of, it would be excellent training, a test to see how he handled himself alone and to see if he could control the madness.

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

 

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Inmortos watched as Akheron dressed. He did not watch the Sith warrior, his gaze remained outward down the steps unto the gathering of shadowy clad agents of death. As the Tsis covered his face to step up beside the Lich-king, Inmortos spoke, having considered the man’s lengthy offer. “Let it be so. We shall feast together on blood and souls.”

 

Looking out to the amassed crowd of sorcerers, he spoke again. The necromancer’s voice was a low hiss between his exposed cracked teeth. “Your gifts are most welcome. The limnal blade can be used to sap their souls” he spoke referencing the gift he had given Akheron. “But be warned. These apprentices of mine have been trained in the arts of death and dying.”

 

Raising his hands, Inmortos’ melted boney fingers flicked up and down manipulating the deep stillness of the force that pooled beneath the waves kf fear that were beginning to cascade about the city. Inmortos’ dry raspy tongue flicked across the fronts of his teeth. He could taste it. They knew something was going on.

 

The air cracked as icy spikes materialized from the street up. They angled inwards forming a crisscrossed palisade of razored spears preventing any escape.

 

”My gift for the Clan.” He hissed to Akheron as he turned to disappear into the temple 


_________________________
 

At the base of the tower, more necromancers began to gather. Their chants rose through the air up towards the top of the tower, their ancient words calling forth ancient powers from beyond the graves buried and forgotten beneath the surface of the world.

 

All of it. It all needed to be purged. Death beyond the powers of even the greatest necromancer to return.
 

_________________________

 

Back into his burial chamber. Back down into the catacombs. Inmortos was carried by the winds of his own cryomancic power; a fast-moving wraith of icy death. In the depths of the catacombs, through the walls of stacked bodies, he moved. He could feel the lingering power of death. Extending his hands as he walked, the god-king of Aaris III raked his boney fingers against the exposed bones. A scratchey ratcheting sound followed in the winds that carried him. The very power of souls leeched from the bones, pooling as icy waters in the floors of the catacombs. Drawing from the bones throughout the underground, warrens froze, cementing families in place, settling an eerie stillness, a stillness even absent in death, within the graves. The icy waters began to pool until they coated the floors in slick frigid liqiud. To touch it invited death and over it, the Lich-king flowed like a nightmare.


The cleanse of Aaris III had begun.

 

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Akheron laughed a little as he spoke. 

 

"Then we shall be on equal footing. For I have walked beyond the veil of death many times, and seen for myself the horrors that await in the realm of Chaos where no spirit ever sleeps. And more so trained since birth in the arts of killing and death, further expanded upon with my education in the Sith. These apprentices will know what it is to know true fear this day, to know what true devotion is.  For as is our motto...Death remembers all."

 

He continued to speak.

 

"As a Lord-Captain of the Clan, I shall make make your entrance official after these proceedings with the Master Of Hides. He shall conduct the ritual oath you must take to swear loyalty to the Fanged God. In the meantime I have transferred temporary authority to you of the ship I previously mentioned. When the ceremony is complete that authority will become permanent as you become one with the nomad fleet. For now you need only contact those aboard whenever you wish and begin the issuing of commands. In the meantime, let us purge together and offer souls to the Fanged God."

 

 

Walking further he soon found the necromancers and others, those who were doomed to a eternity of nothingness. Igniting his lightsaber he began his own path of destruction. His aura of calm became a raging storm in moments as he ended the first of many lives on Aaris III. Focusing in the Darkness, Akheron unleashed his Wrath and newly acquired additional Rage, his eyes turning to black as the monster that always laid just below the surface, caged like a beast was released.

 

Unchained and remorseless. A unmerciful machine of death, the Sith Warrior starting carving into those in front of him. Impaling the first of many lives, he sliced his saber into their gut before slicing upwards leaving a corpse in his wake of death and destruction. His eyes saw another, as some soon panicked, attempting to run much to his disgust, while others stood awestruck at the fury and power of the Sith Warrior, all previous doubt erased. Becoming a hunter, Akheron stalked before using the Force to lift another victim, throwing them like a ragdoll into a icy spike on the wall. Continuing on, corpses begun to be all that remained, as the Sith Lord let nothing stop his purge. One devoted to the Darkness and the Fanged God. 

 

The suffering of the damned was a musical symphony, as Akheron conducted his dance of death and destruction. He would let none escape, all would become worthy sacrifices, the living and the undead. Aaris III would burn. 

 

He wondered if his apprentice faired as well, if he was living up to his potential. As the Assassin he thought he could be for the Sith.

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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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”?dlihc elttil eerga uoy t’nod ?sey yad ylevol a tahw !yad a tahw ho!“ Solus spoke as he moved, the scenery becoming a blur as he moved faster and faster. All around, the effects of what was happening at the temple were becoming clear. People were either gathering to see, or fleeing to hide. 


Either way, the blade that Solus carried in his free hand slashed them as he ran past. 


The child said nothing. Most of that was cause she was slipping into and out of consciousness and partially because Solus’ words were completely incoherent to the untrained ear. He was a metal monstrosity to these primitives, carrying a blade of fire. 


“?ereh ew evah tahw kca .dluohs eh ho ?sey ,siht eroda tsum dog degnaf eht .ees ot meht rof egami doog a tahw ahah“


Solus had to stop. A gathering of necromancers blocked his way. Hooded and bearing all manners of decorated staves and clubs, the lizards held their weapons at the ready. One of them, their leader judging by his more decorated robe and extravagant bone necklaces, raised his staff at the Shard and commanded something. Most likely a command to drop the child.

 
Solus looked the child over and shook his head.”esle enoemos yb nevig ton sredro evah ot .suolaej ma i woh ho ?sey retsam ruoy si raef ruoy .straeh ruoy morf emoc sredro ruoy ,esruoc .sruoy evah uoy kniht uoy sa tsuj ,sredro ym evah i on on on“ 


The necromancers didn’t stop to try to translate. The leader pointed a bony finger and uttered a chant. The others followed suit. The winds around Solus picked up. A flash of yellow in the Shard signaled Solus what was about to happen. Ducking and jumping to the side, a blast of Force energy knocked aside some trees. 


Solus charged, lightsaber in hand. However, this time he was not ready for what came next. The leader raised his hand and chanted something profane. Solus suddenly tripped forward, dropping the child in the process. From the ground, several bony hands had reached out and grabbed the Shard’s leg. 


”!sey sey sey euqinhcet taht worrob ot evah lliw I !revelc yrev !ohoho“ Solus slashed the bones and pulled his leg out and charged again, now freed from the weight of the child. Surprised by the Shard’s quick recovery, the necromancer’s were not prepared to deal with the fiery blade Solus carried. 


Soon, the bodies lay scatterred. The child had crawled a short distance away, but it wasn’t difficult to get her again. 


“ …won won“ Solus started. ”…yaw rehtie .od ot stnaw gnik ruoy revetahw ro ezeerf ro .nrub tenalp eht hctaw ot uoy ecrof dna pu uoy eit ot gniog m’I .uoy llik t’now I .em morf raef ot gnihton evah uoy“

 

The hike up to the temple was longer then before. Solus found himself stopping more and more to simply make sure the child didn’t slip. All the while, Solus talked to himself, mentioning how free his soul was at the moment. The sith code, to him, was about losing all the chains that restricted you, so what could be more freeing than losing your sanity and moral code? But even the child could notice there was something off about the Shard. The words he spoke were both his own and not his own. Whatever that had possessed the small rock in the temple was not purely beneficial. Perhaps, in time, it too would take its toll on the shard, unless trained properly?

 

Once at the top, Solus tied the child to the highest point he could find and looked around. The view was magnificent and stretched for miles. Whatever show Innmortos had planned, the youngling would be unable to avoid witnessing it. 

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The frigid soulfrost soaked into the hard packed tunnels and catacombs beneath the ancient mechanized city. Their icy tendrils a death of cold fear that sapped the lifeblood and soul-stuff from the victims caught within it’s grasp. As Inmortos moved, so did the icy touch of death spread until it became a self-powered force of death that spread outwards, soaking into the soils and sapping the life from the jungles beyond with it’s deathly touch. Trees withered and fell, the green lush life that shrouded Inmortos’ death cult city and distant villages dying as if winter came upon them in an instant. The snapping of limbs echoed through the stillness of the jungles as it contained everything in an eternal tomb of cold stillness. Animals, plants, even the force slowed into silence at it’s touch. When it reached the outlying villages, it was as if a curse of old had been cast upon them. Cries of anguish and pain pierced the air in hot steamy breathes only to be choked out of existence. And it continued to spread, growing as it fed on the eternal entropy of nothingness; a cold wake of emptiness in it’s shadow.

 

And as Inmortos moved, so too did the levels of freezing liquid rise until they began to bubble forth through sewers and toilets and basement entrances. Screams filled the city as the people, his people, were driven into the streets or consumed in icy pallor, their bodies twisted and broken in grotesque forms, statues to showcase the absolute power of darkness. Their very souls consumed and obliterated; condemned to eternity between worlds, neither existing or passed on, useless to the necromancer, useless beyond their pain and anguish stilled in the freezing wet air. Such was a world that would serve as a testament to those who defied the Sith; to those who would refuse to embrace the gifts granted to them by the rule of the Dark Lord. Such a world had been plucked by Inmortos, a chosen jewel, to complete his own crown; but now in icy eternal stillness, would stand as a testament to the zeal by which those who served darkness would go in the service of their lord. 

 

Emerging from the catacombs, a flush of soul-snaring ice water crashing behind and about him; Inmortos entered the panic-stricken streets. Not one of those who had worshipped at his feet clung to him for salvation. They did bot beg for forgiveness, for that he would have granted. Instead they raced about in fear as their ways of escape were cut off by tendrils of ice and soulfrost, and frigid damnation. Raising his hands the waters crashed about him, freezing all they touched. Inmortos own breath clouded on the air, mingling with the last breaths of those he had sought to save. Their cries fell silent about them. Overhead, the gray clouds churned as the vortexes of temperatures and humidity mixed and mingled. Thunderclaps rolled like heavenly invisible beasts across the sky. I. The distance, jagged fingers of lightning leapt downward to ignite the dried and dead jungles, an inferno that clashed and contrasted with the stillness. It was two sides of the same coin, icy death and raging destruction, a symbol of the Sith that carved their place on this world. It would all end the same, in ash and dust, eternal stillness across a world devoid of all bit the barest of life.

 

In the distance, billows of smoke poured upwards, the blacks and grays mingling with the sky. It was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended.  The winds of the storms w the tower and the world, uncontrolled by the Sith, a byproduct of the devastation as it tore outwards across the world.

 

And through it all, Inmortos moved, a specter, Dust, a god-king, the herald of damnation to the unworthy, a servant to the dark lord Nyrys, kin to the Fanged God himself. Cold was his crown and ice his mantle, his scepter a dagger of undead, and his cloak death itself.

 

Raising the communicator, Inmortos rasped. “Lord Akheron. Crystal of The Blade of Darkness. Bring the ships in closer. Reduce this world to rubble. Unleash your servants. Kill the rest. Stack the unfrozen bodies as cordwood, a gift the Empress from our unholy triad. Leave those bound to the ice.”

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Akheron was relentless, a walking machine of death and destruction that had been unleashed for a single purpose. To see the end to the lizard people that once called Aaris III home and entomb them eternally, their body and souls forever a testament to the power of the Sith and the price of defying them and the will of the Fanged God. And in so doing his own legend would spread throughout the galaxy even more...rumors about what happened to Aaris III would soon go on to frighten young children from their beds at night. A warning of the fate of all those who would defy the Sith and the gifts given to them. Gifts that came with a price, a price they had refused to pay when it came due.

 

He would be the Sith's iron fist, acting as agent and a Wrath filled wraith upon the defilers. As Inmortos spoke, Akheron replied his voice slightly changed, fueled by the Darkness. For he was in the moment, Wrath and Rage intertwined, becoming one. A symbiosis of emotions that directed a unmatched fury upon any in the way, innocent or not. The Sith Warrior knew no remorse, pity or mercy...only adding to the dead. 

 

"It shall be done Lord Inmortos, I have also sent the command authority to you. Temporary command has been give for the ship I gifted and all aboard, you need only contact them to issue the command to join as well. They are bound by ancient law to obey. This world will burn and then become a tomb eternal. For the Sith do not forgive nor do we forget."

 

Moments later and the flagship and various others in the small fleet with Akheron answered the summons. Soon after and several shuttles descended to the surface under heavy armed escort. Shuttles with a purpose. They were destined for the crypt, landing and disembarking the Linnorms surveyed the area before making way to the tower, killing any in the way to their objective with excitement and shouts of glory to the Fanged God. The lizard folk suffered under axe, sword, blaster and fists as the elite Sith trained warriors made little work of the living and undead. They were soon at their destination after carving a path and linking up with Akheron, passing by and killing any he missed as they went below with several crates.

 

Once in the crypt, they ransacked it killing any lizard folk who interrupted or tried stopping them as they hurled angry, rage filled words at the Linnorms who they saw as desecrating the crypt and stealing from their former god. But they paid no mind and swiftly ended the objectors lives, more victims for the Fanged God. Collecting various ancient treasures, scrolls, holocrons and items of interest that the Sith would want safeguarded and removed from the dead world. Soon enough and it was practically empty as each crate was escorted out. 

 

Above the planet, the ships moved in closer as instructed. It was then they begun to rain hell on those below, as the weapons of the fleet aimed their weapons upon the cities and remote villages, anywhere they could. Soon enough and a barrage of laser death descended, adding to the furor of destruction. A Base Delta Zero reduced one city to ash and melted glass in a instant as thousands were extinguished. The deaths and the suffering they endured only served to strengthen and further fuel the Sith Lord, Akheron. As the bigger ships opened fire below, the smaller Acklay Class Heavy Interceptors, a new breed and line of starfighter that had seen successful testing above Naboo, were unleashed from the bellies of the beasts. Like a swarm of angry locusts, they attacked in waves. The first entered and struck at the same city the three Sith were currently occupying, shaking the foundations of several areas and sending rubble everywhere as bombing and strafing runs helped reduce everything to smoldering ash and allow Inmortos to harvest the souls of the damned.

 

Akheron felt the vibrations as he continued the onslaught. The necromancers he was fighting shouted towards him, pointing bony fingers and condemning the three Sith. He simply laughed at them, their threats meaning nothing. This simply angered them more as severla begun to chant unknown languages. Ancient and powerful magic begun to be put at work as several bodies of the dead arose, attempting to grab at the Sith Warrior. Deformed with some missing parts of their face and other extremities, these undead were skeletal, primitive and wielding various clubs, maces and axes of old. They raced towards him with apparent abandon and little care for their own well being.

 

Akheron simply smiled under his mask as he plunged into the very depths of his own pain and trauma, entering the warrior state of the Sundered Heart. In this state, Akheron begun to unleash his inner turmoil in a torrent of powerful and never ending attacks with the intent to overwhelm the enemies in front of him a ceaseless, unending storm. His efforts begun to take form when his hits begun to strike harder and faster and the weightlessness of the lightsaber he was using only further increased his efforts.

 

As the undead horde thought to make a meal of the Sith Warrior, he charged forwards into them. His Rage fuelling his current mind state. He became almost a blur of red, as the lightsaber and his skin molded into one with the fast movements being conducted. He struck at the first victim, slicing straight through the lizard man's primitive shield like it was butter and carving a long burning line to his jaw.

 

Yet he continued, undead as he was. So Akheron instead impaled the undead lizard folk with his new arm appendage and swung him around head first into the floor with a sickening crunch. He followed this by stomping on it's head. under his boot before slicing vertical until he reached the groin, leaving the undead in two separate torso sections. Moving along he noted his apprentice as he passed by, successful in his endeavor.

 

Slicing up more undead, Akheron used the warrior ability to Shatter. Using the Darkness of the Force, Akheron hurled raw blasts of the Force into obliterating any shields or weapons the undead might have been using at the time. He channeled the destructive power of his abilities through the physical weapons they carried, attempting to sunder the armor and leave them vulnerable. He was largely successful, as a rippling wave of energy, cascaded towards them like a tsunami and swept them backwards in a wave, sending lizard folk flying into any wall behind them. Breaking bone, flesh, weapon or shield into pieces. Yet he was far from done, he was barely getting started.

 

Satisfied this particular group had been dealt with, Akheron advanced further forwards into the city. As he did, more shuttles arrived, this time with reinforcements as a battalion of Linnorms exited the various craft and begun to join in the slaughter, cheering as each living or undead member of the lizard species were snuffed out. Their souls damned forever to never live nor truly die. Instead they would suffer the long silence of eternity trapped and driven insane. 

 

A fitting punishment for those who would defy the Sith, or so Akheron thought. He continued on, the Linnorms at his back and ready to add some more to the ever increasing tally of the dead. 

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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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As everything in sight became frozen by the dark powers conjured by Innmortos, Solus clapped his hands together like a child. 


”!recnamorcen flesruoy enodtuo evah uoy ho“Solus exclaimed loudly, clapping faster and faster, his hands benging together loudly as two metal hands would. ”!ahahah erom dna erom dna erom llik !erom !erom“


Above him, the child screamed. Solus stopped himself and looked at her. A stone pillar, standing high and above the rest of the mountain, provided a perfect viewpoint for the destruction that was occurring below. But something called Solus to her. Gingerly, he walked to the base of the pillar and called up. 

 

”?thgir ,siht fo thgis esol ot gniog ton era uoy ?ereht pu ko uoy era“


The girl didn’t reply. Solus screached his head plates, as if he was one of the organics doing their methods of showing confusion. Then he snapped his fingers and began to speak again. This time, it was much slower, and plain enough to understand again. 


“Sl’isss’, is that right?” Solus asked. The memories of the previous lizards he had killed flowed to bring the name to the forefront. 
The child stopped screaming, hearing its name. 


“Well Sl’isss, the way I see it, we are keeping you alive so you can report everything…everything here!” Solus turned and gestured to the freezing landscape. Ships had also begun to land, with Linnorms pouring out.


“All this death! All this beautiful death! It is just beautiful! And you get to share it with the galaxy!”


Solus turned back to the child and gestured to her again. 


“The entire galaxy! You know what that is, don’t you? Worlds beyond worlds beyond worlds? And you will spread our word to them! Word of destruction haha!” 
Solus again turned back to the freezing view and held out his arms, laughing wildly, madness completely taking him. 

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The onslaught of Linworm forces added to the sheer chaos that had taken ahold of Aaris III. Death was present everywhere. No prisoners were taken. None left alive as the magics of Inmortos spread like a frozen silent stain across the world, radiating from the Lich as an epicenter. The decent of warships into the atmosphere, spilling their loads of death in waves of energy and craft levelled who sections of the world, sending flames and greasy ink-comored smoke into the sky where it melded with the dull overcast of death.

 

It was here, one could taste death on the air. It was here that the force itself rolled and churned and was then extinguished as it was drawn into the cracks the Sith carved within the very realities of life.

 

Solus, Lord Akheron, Krath Inmortos, where they went, the silence of the grave trailed behind as a cape fit a king.

 

High in the tower, the young girl watched in absolute horror. The ability to speak striped from her in absolute fear. The demon-droid that had bound her only added to her fright as he spoke now in tongues she could understand. No reassurances of life were enough as she was forced to behold the carnage of  the only home, the only people she had ever known.

 

Over the rising tide of icy soulfrost-bound liquid, Inmortos moved as a spectre. He carried no weapon in his malformed hands. His robe and infused crown of ice his only markings of grandeur. None stood in his way; for all that might were touched by the cool hand of crystalized eternity well before they beheld him. He moved as if through a garden of statues, each one perfectly capturing the pain and anguish of the frozen body within’s last surge of emotion. There was fear. There was agony. There was rage. There was defeat. Each one a twisted display of what would become those who sinned against the Sith with their pride and ungratefulness. Their souls bound forever beyond the horizon, unable to live and yet unable to die. Useless to the  necromancer and untouchable by the healer. They were truly gone. Whatever heavens or hells awaited them left gaping forevermore.
 

As the city was laid waste about him, Inmortos moved towards his tower. It was a pinnacle, shrouded by ancient spells and entrapments, shielded from the onslaught within an eternal grasp of Inmortos’ icy power. Gone were the walls and labyrinths. No more guards or mazes stood to keep the tower from the people. The people were no more; their lives extinguished across the world. Snuffed out as if they never were. The crumbling foundations that remained would be turned to dust in a short time as the storms of the world unleashed themselves with pure intensity. There was nothing to stop them as the world itself grieved the loss of it’s facade, born back to a primordial time before life came to exist on the rock.

 

Ascending the tower, Inmortos found Somus and his charge. “You have done well Apprentice. I will see to it that you are rewarded in kind.” He hissed, a mixture of pleasure and pain permeating his voice as utter coldness filled the throne room and spilled forth from the balcony in hazy waves of destruction. “I would ask but one more thing. Turn the fiery breath of The Dragon unto the seas. Boil them. See to it that nothing of life remains hidden from your sight. Once this world is purged, we will take all that we have learned to a galaxy that opposes the Sith.” Reaching into his robes, Inmortos removed a heavy skeleton key of polished brass. He handed it to the assassin. “This will grant you access to the subterranean levels of my tower. There within my libraries lies a laboratory. In it are potions and elixirs. Use them. Pour them   Into the sea. Destroy all life there and perhaps, if you are strong enough, a Sithspawn demon might emerge to complete the rending of my world.”

 

”But be warned.” He added with earnest. “To touch my library, invites death beyond that your crystalline shell could imagine or behold.”

 


With a skeletal hand, Inmortos caressed the girl’s face. Even as she was bound, her flesh recoiled in terror at the cold evil that exuded from the cryomancer. Without a word, Inmortos turned. He plunged himself into the darkness of his throne room and made his way ro his throne. Turning he sat, his hands finding their natural places along the great armrests. For one last time, Inmortos the god-king of Aaris III would sit enthroned over his people. He would lead them to the end; for he was their king.

 

Outside overhead and across the world, loud cracks shattered the sky as all heat began to be drawn from the world, consumed by the vortex of power that was a god enthroned. In it’s last, the world would know it’s place, at the feet of the Sith.

 

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Brutally cleansing the city in the name of the Sith and the Fanged God, Akheron continued his remorseless rampage. All notion of morality lost as he brought death and destruction, burning any souls he encountered into corpses and dust. Eventually the city stood practically empty, the three Sith and the Linnorjs, combined with the might of the fleet had flattened and misshapen the city into a hollow ruin of nothing but pain. Pain that would echo for years to come no doubt, a wound formed of thousands of voices lost to the void as they endured neither death or life. Stuck forever between worlds. 

 

Stepping back towards the tower at the end of the carnage, Akheron ascended into the bitter cold and top of the tower, where he found both his apprentice and Krath Inmortos discussing the next steps in purging the planet of life. They had taken most of the life on the surface either through their own hand or by way of the fleet, all now that remained would be the oceans.

 

It would require a unique solution, however it appeared Inmortos had planned for such a event. A smile crept across his lips as he heard of the task at hand, to create a Sithspawn born of the suffering and pain they had wrought. Speaking as Inmortos took a seat upon the unholy throne of the dead, Akheron added to the discussion before departing to the task before them.

 

"It shall be done, I shall assist. Let us see what the blood of Wrath and Rage may add to the mix and awaken the Destroyers Of Worlds. The Leviathans. Sithspawn born of us all, one that will bring this planet to it's last knee and consume it for eternity."

 

With that he motioned his now somewhat normal apprentice, albeit with madness below the surface and lead him to where they needed to be. He let his apprentice collect the potions and elexirs they would require before speaking.

 

"Open the vials. I shall add a few drops of my blood to each, I suggest you do the same. Channel your Hate, Rage, Suffering, Pain, Envy and Wrath. Let us ensure the world gives birth to our vengeance."

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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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Solus continued to cackle madly on the peak of the tower, much to the youngling’s fright. At some point during his raving laughter, his tone took a unique shift. It wasn’t as solid as before. Its warbling and distorting was still there but a new emotion seemed to be sinking in with it. The shard’s movements even were a little different now. His hands went to his ‘head’ and rubbed against metal facial plates, like a child covering his eyes. 


“Hahaha, what is that? I hear them, don’t you? Do you hear them coming closer? Is it them? Or is it something else? Does the power of death on the planet wade? Or does it strengthen? Is the wound opening or closing? Opening or closing? I feel it, but i hear and see it too! The shapes, they move and squirm. The shapes spin and the shapes belch. The geometries...oh the geometries! Oh my oh my oh my…


Solus stopped at the apparition of the necromancer. While straightened out, his body still twitched randomly, the joints occasionally having a life all their own. 
The Shard snatched the key away from the necromancer and gave a deep bow, head nearly touching the floor. 


With pleasure, oh so great pleasure ahaha! I have not inflicted enough death to sate my taste, let alone the taste of the Fanged One himself! Let us open the wound, yes? Yes yes yes, open the wound and make a new place dedicated to his hunger. Ah I love this day! What a lovely day!” 


 "It shall be done, I shall assist. Let us see what the blood of Wrath and Rage may add to the mix and awaken the Destroyers Of Worlds. The Leviathans. Sithspawn born of us all, one that will bring this planet to it's last knee and consume it for eternity."


Solus laughed once, as if something his master said amused him, then quickly led the way. At first, it was just simple walking, but soon it changed into a run, and then, bizarrely, a dash on all fours, like some kind of animal. Each set of stairs was almost skipped as he jumped down, leaping from wall to wall downwards, the force trailing off him. All the while, the mist emitting from his head swirled and cloyed thicker and stronger. 


“I can see so much right now…” Solus spoke as he moved. “The shapes…the impossible geometries. Its like back at Naboo, but gathering. Did you see them there master? I did. Like Mitochondria. Dark Mitochondria. What a lovely word, yes? Mitochondria… what is that even? I don’t know what that is, and yet I know that word? Like something beyond feeds that to me? The shapes, they whisper it to me...” 


Solus had found the lab. Vials, books, papers, cauldrons, tubes, and all manner of equipment were laying in cluttered messes on tables, shelves, and floors. While unshattered, the lab was certainly disrupted. 


“Oh something crawls in here master. Something dark.” Solus continued, undeterred by the mess. Swiping all manner of potions and poisons, he placed them gingerly on a cleared off table. Occasionally he would find a book or a page of some unknown content, and after a moment of peering through the tomb, would toss it aside, screeching slightly. Whatever secrets the necromancer had here, Solus already fragile mind refused to dive further into. 


“Something crawls deep and wriggles. Both here…and here…” Solus pointed at the tombs, and then at his own head where the Shard’s crystalline form continued to scream. “It controls and relents. It feeds and devours. Is it the Fangs or is it something else? Do I fear it, or does it fear me? I believe neither, but do i believe both? No, that makes no sense, yet no sense is the only sense I can understand. From void i came, and to the void I go. And yet, in the void i hear it call, and from the void it flies. No no no, not flies, but wriggles and squirms, yes heh heh heh, squirms and squelches…”    


As Solus talked and gathered, the mist swirled so strongly that new shapes began to take form. Legs, pincers, mandibles and wings; a shape, small but disturbing, was taking form. Still gaseous, its form was not fully clear or even comprehensible, but flickers of it could be witnessed behind the Shard’s head, with tendrils gripping the shoulders tightly. 


At his master’s command, Solus nodded and opened the vials and mixed them together. When it came to the blood, Solus spoke again. 


“You give anger. I give envy. I envy all things right now. Even you master. You live long lives in the world of worlds. I live a long life in a black void. And blood. I hear something that screams for something different. The shapes that squirm, they belch at that substance. They say offer something…ah, but how can i offer that? How oh how….oh that is how…”


As Solus talked, the thing that formed in the air dived towards the mixture. Following the mist, images of memories from the lizards’ Solus had drained, formed, motionless in the air. Soundlessly, the mist pooled over the liquid until it too merged with the crimson fluid.


“Your blood and your rage, my memories and my envy, and our hatred. Your blood will give muscle, your rage will give power. My memories will give… clarity? No they say something else. The shapes squelch… targets. My memories will give it targets, and my envy will give it hatred. We do not seek our own deaths…not yet, no? My memories, the memories of Klllss the leader and Grr’a’sk the guard, they will be the scent of targets to find, and my envy of them will make them kill those targets…yes yes yes… hahaha!” 


Solus picked up the mixture carefully, not wanting to spill a drop. “Come my master, the waters await us! Kill the beings on the beaches, and you will call it forth with the smell of death! I will offer the mixture, and give it what we have made here, and it will kill as we see fit! And then, the Fanged God will have its due! Yes yes yes!” 

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Akheron observed his apprentice movements, he noted the strange movements and primal madness. The mist that surrounded him, clinging like a web. It was something that would need to be remedied less he lose all sense of what he was. Advancing, agreeing with the sentiment, Akheron begun to strike at any lizard folk left. Those that had thought to run to the sea hoping in the waves they might find solace from the death they witnessed.

 

But it would not come. The Sith Warrior advanced like a Wrath filled storm, uttering ancient chants, Akheron beckoned the Sithspawn beast that would be birthed of his, Solus and Inmortos flesh and called it forth from the depths of Chaos. Allowing the vials his apprentice held to fall into the ocean and begin to boil and make it bubble as the beast took form. The water itself was beginning to boil, cooking any wildlife too close to the shore. Within the depths did the Sithspawn beast soon rise, first it's head, multiple eyed and full of hate as it was. And yet the beast did not strike at Solus or Akheron.

 

The beast knew it's masters.

 

Within moments the beast grew, doubling in size until it dwarfed the two. Rising it looked into the tower, eyeballing Inmortos briefly as it looked in before turning to the ocean and beginning untold destruction. It was a true leviathan, a beast of old called forth from hell itself or so it seemed. Walking and wading out, the beast tipped ships of all sizes into the deep, smashing them against the waves and rocks of the shoreline. Eating others whole. Screams and panic ensued as the lizard folk ran to try and save what remained. Even the undead did little to stop it's advance. 

 

Akheron looked out, proud of his creation. Of the creation of the three. It would be a permanent reminder for those who defied the Sith, a symbol to the Fanged God who took lives in his honour. It would be death incarnate to any who would do the Sith wrong on Aaris III. On the dead world it would make a home and become legend. Turning away, Akheron knew their work was done, it was time to leave the world of the dead to it's fate.

 

He motioned that Solus should follow.

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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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Solus beheld the might of the beast as it rose in size, towering more and more.  With a shiver, he spoke.

 

“Behold…our heart of this world!” Solus gestured, holding his hands out. The beast moved like a titan of its mass should: with un care for anything beneath it, and with hunger for life. 

 

“Progenitor and Ender of life. The Dark Mother’s child! The Fanged God's messenger. Alpha and Omega... beginning and end. Once Creator... now Destroyer.” 

 

The mist from Solus head swirled to full cloud of thickness, riding forward and following the monster of the depths. The death of so many creatures, and the summoning of such an ancient and beastial monster had done its duty. The wound was opening. The Dark side was flowing with less and less restraint. Death had come to Aaris III, and Solus could not resist but to begin speaking scriptures of unknown tongue. 

 

Before, his master and Innmortos had witnessed Solus speaking in a simple manner of possession. On Naboo, Innmortos had heard Solus speak several words in something unknown to the mortal depths of knowledge. Now here, with the wound opening and Solus feeling the center of it, caught in the ravages of some madness, the language of his true stone spoke out. It wasn’t one of sound, with phonetic syllabus that humans could reproduce with tongue. Nor was it one that could be written down. Neither sane sage or rambling madmen could reproduce what Solus spoke. Those in the Force perhaps could sense and even understand it, but descriptions of it were beyond anyone’s capability

 

But there was a language coming from the Shard, who’s arms still were raised high in praise of the monster that had been summoned. A nearby Linnorm could feel the language press on his own brain, and later, when he reported it to both the Master of Hides and Stitch-Mouth back on the ships, explained how it was both something he had felt in his own heart and soul, completely in his mind, but foreign to it. Deadly, but alluring. Fascinating, but maddening in its own right.  The Linnorm, on the trip back to Faleen, would end his own life, unable to tolerate the nightmares that the Shard had introduced.

 

It was at this height of madness when Solus found himself released from whatever that had possessed him. Having fulfilled its unspoken promise, it left Solus through the mist, and followed the monster, eager to open the Force Wound that had begun on the planet. Once death had been accomplished fully, and every life on the planet was consumed, the thing that had possessed Solus would return to its home amongst the Outer Spheres. But it left what it needed to leave in the Shard. Knowledge on new powers, and visions of where to learn more of them. 

 

Solus turned and stumbled after Akheron. Weak from the power that had left him, he still bore enough energy to get to one of the nearest ships. 
 

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As the other Sith departed his tower, the cold darkness of Inmortos’ inner soul radiated on the force as it heaved and strained beneath the unrelenting onslaught of death until it, death, was all that was left.

 

In the distance, Inmortos felt the dakr beast’s birth. Formed from his own machinations and magicks, mingled with the dark powers of the warrior and mentalities of the Shard, the beast was drawn to the evil font within the force. Any survivor was hunted down, bound in durasteel-strong strands of web and their soul and life were sucked from their bodies. Nothing but a husk was left; a husk that quickly dissolved into dust that was carried on the ever present winds that tore over the destroyed surface of the world. So too was the world left behind in the wake of the Sith. The world was devastated. The jungled burned and the seas boiled. Cities had been torn down. The humid sun-filled skies were replaced by a force-fueled maelstrom that coated the planet in a gray blizzard that would not weaken for years. Fire and ice, cold death, destruction and stillness, the world was a message to the galaxy to any who might defy the will of the Sith.

 

Rising from his throne, his tower the only remaining structure that was not devastated on the world, protected by the force and power of Inmortos’ magic,  Inmortos moved through the darkness. He grasped the shoulder of the young lizard. She withdrew at his frigid touch with a gasp. “Feel it,” the Lich whispered, his voice rattling the bones within his head. “Take it all in. These were your people. You are the last. You are my herald to bring the truth to the galaxy. Soon you will be among friends.” The girl began to sob.


Clenching his fist, Inmortos seized the girl in an icy telekinetic grip and ripped her from her bonds where she had been secured. Walking to the edge of his tower, the ETERNUS rose to level itself with the balcony. The only occupant an undead body of a Mon Cal plucked from the watery world during Inmortos’ rule there. Stepping off the balcony, Inmortos stepped onto the extended gangplank drawing the girl in with him. The door closed behind them.

 

Depositing the girl in the corner, she was given free reign of the sparse interior of the ship. Inmortos moved to the main chamber where he gently lay down in the stone coffin raised upon a blackened dias. The 2 ton stone cover slid shut atop, sealing the beast within. 
 

Inmortos soul left his body swirling about the cabin before coming to possess the undead decaying fish-being.

 

Keying the comms, Inmortos’ slave activated the holo screen projecting images of the Linworm fleet commanders now under Inmortos’ command. “Fall in with the fleet until you receive orders from your new Master. We will accompany Lord Akheron and the fleet.”

 

 

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Akheron walked into the shuttle, curious still at just what Solus had seen and been possessed by. What had driven him to madness temporarily yet gifted certain knowledge. He had little time for the moment to think more upon it as the shuttle exited the atmosphere and into a waiting hangar bay upon his flagship, where several others also entered.

 

The Linnorms had already begun unloading the various treasures and were carrying them into the storage bays, others were taken deep into the ship and the vaults within designed to hold the most dangerous items. Akheron observed, picking a particular holocron he would study later, on other shuttles a more grim cargo was unloaded, corpses from below that had been gathered per Krath Inmortos request for bodies. They were taken for cold storage and put on ice until needed. Below the beast that had been unleashed was given free reign of the world. 

 

It would be it's kingdom. 

 

Upon Inmortos new ship the Linnorms understood and begrudgingly followed the commands. Inmortos would need to earn their loyalty. The ship joined the others of the small fleet, defensive formations formed as the fleet soon readied itself for departure. Their work was done here. Akheron, pleased at what had been accomplished and the newfound power he was gifted by the ritual, knew where next to go. Just as he was contemplating, a urgent holographic message arrived, informing that a meeting had been called. One of all the Lord-Captain's of Clan Brasganu, which would now include Krath Inmortos. 

 

However first a brief stop was needed at Falleen. His powerbase, or one part of it. For resupply of arms, Linnorms and fuel and to undertake any repairs to any shuttles. Issuing the command, the fleet exited the system. Behind only the dead and a beast born of hate remained.

 

((Onwards to Falleen.))

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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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  • 10 months later...

Aaris III; a once lush jungle-covered world inhabited by primitive diminutive kobold-like lizard-men as they swelled within ancient cities build into the jungle. Now, it was all gone. The jungles burned to nothingness. The seas boiled until their cracked beds were bone dry. The cities reduced beyond rubble to ash and dust. Even the people, erased from the cycles of life and death entirely. This place did not smell like death, for in it’s destruction, it had transcended it. Aside from the one survivor dropped upon an Alliance world and the undead army bound to @Darth Calypso as a gift from

Inmortos, there was nothing left. It was if they had never existed. Even their souls shattered so that they too along with their bodies could never be raised again. The world was vast and empty. Desolate as storms ravaged across the world unchecked by natural or artificial

barrier. The climate cataclysmically altered in passing bands of searing heat and unbearable cold. Aaris III was a world destroyed, a testament to the power of the Sith, the Dark Side, of Lords @Karys Narat iv-Adas and Inmortos, and even to the touch of the Shard Sithling @Solus who someday would adorn the crowned brow of Inmortos and act as a conduit of his will.

 

Life was gone from this place and in it’s stead even death was naught to be found. Vast swathes of emptiness from horizon to horizon were all that remained.

 

The only thing that broke the landscape as it was lashed by eternal lightning-laden blizzards was a towering ziggurat of soul-bound ice, soulfrost morphed and twisted to hold the throne room of Inmortos high above his kingdom and within it’s dripping dark frigid interiors, atop a dias of skulls and ice sat a magnificent icy throne that seemed to warp and morph the room

So that it was at the center, the focus, and dwarfed all within it’s presence. Below, icy walkways and frozen barren gardens twisted outward from the base of the tower leading to a fortress, walls and towers, halls and dungeons, all that sat atop a deeply buried library of ice, guarded by spells and incantations, wraiths and lethal traps: the secret library of Inmortos, gathered, stolen, and summoned from the dredges of history. Profane and lost texts that detailed ancients rights and civilizations long lost to eternity, forbidden magics even by Sith standards.

 

Outside, butied within the dust atop a webbed nest existed a solitary being, a caretaker of sorts, neither living nor dead, a Sith abomination whose invisibility and poisons haunted and hunted the world and consumed any that dare trespass upon these sacred profane grounds.

 

It was to this place that the veil between life and death split the sky with a monstrous clap of thunder. Souls, imprisoned for ages within death spewed forth to herald the return of their newly crowned god-king. And from this cleft descended an ethereal form, a ghost, a specter, a wraith; a being of form but not substance, a true embodiment of that young Firrerreo man cursed by the dredges of Coruscant so long ago. Inmortos, and yet, Eligreen, drifted down unsullied by the winds and darkness, cloaked in a veil of the damned, the very winds lashing put from his translucent form as he touched down upon the open balconies of his throne room. From there, he drifted to his throne, up the skulled stairs and turned to sit. As his ghostly form and his throne connected a flash of dark power erupted, consuming the tower itself in roiling clouds of deathly ice and lightning. The god-king was upon his throne once again. He only hoped that his servant @Bernon Mrrgwharr brought him a more suitable host this time, upon which he could exercise his will once more.

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Soon enough and a speck came into existence above the dead planet. A single shuttle containing the Darkness as encompassed by Darth Akheron, Dictum and the Shard apprentice Solus, Disciple of the Temple of the Spider and their Linnorm pilot. The Darkness swirled around the shuttle like a beast hungry for prey. Akheron observed as the shuttle descended below, directing the pilot to land by the ice covered tower and spire. A place from where he could feel the necromancer's presence. It appeared his assumption was correct.

 

He had indeed been reborn anew here. 

 

As the shuttle landed and the hatch opened, Akheron motioned that the small group should follow. Up now empty steps to the very peak where the necromancer and his throne waited. The pilot too was brought along...his impending demise not yet apparent. With each step, Akheron wondered what the performances would do and say once they arrived. There was much to discuss, and to do. But for now it was the perfect place to train away from unwanted eyes. 

 

He was curious what Dictum would make of it all. He would soon see.

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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                          Bernon Mrrgwharr rose from his seat as the ship landed, standing like a soldier ready for the march. He picked up his light repeating blaster rifle, and turned on his heel. He began to march out alongside the Sith Masters and others. Earlier he had directed a question towards Darth Akheron, but when he did not respond he took it as a sign, that he already had a plan. During the time of the trip he had been exercising to keep up his physical strength, making sure to wear his heavy armor at all times, as it made him stronger and tougher that way. Once he had completed his exercises he had rested for a while, before the ship had landed and he made his way out of the ship. He had noticed the pilot had come as well, so he had deduced that he would become the next victim of Krath Inmortos' possession. Why else would a pilot accompany them while they traveled to the throne of Krath Inmortos?

 

                         Bernon Mrrgwharr by now had come to the realization that he would not learn the secrets of immortality, he was a Warrior, not a Sorcerer, and he had accepted that. He would be powerful either way. One thing he had noticed as he walked the surface of the world was that it was also a place strong in the Dark Side, or maybe it was just resonating off of the other Sith here, either way, the power was impressive, and he realized that he truly had chosen the right side. His yellow eyes scanned around him, looking for any sort of threat, just in case. When he found no threat he decided he may as well ask an important question to his second Sith Master. He turned to look at Darth Akheron and asked "Darth Akheron, does this mighty order have a Code of some sort, one that I should memorize?" As he waited for a response he thought a bit more.

 

                         He had wondered for a bit what the new army the Sith would come to use would be, and realized it would probably be made up of several allied forces, such as allied planets security forces, battle droids, and even mercenaries. In the end, they would have an army that would utterly annihilate the disgusting monstrosity that was the Galactic Alliance. No being of the Light Side could truly take out such power in the Darkness, or so he believed, anyways. He also had noticed some Mandalorians nearby at the scene on Ziost. If they were to be allies of the Sith, that would certainly be a boon to their war effort, given that they are highly competent warriors and mercenaries.

 

                         He thought a bit about his past and his parents as well. His parents had sent him away to a Mercenary Academy when he was young. He knew it was meant to discipline him, and looking back on it, he is very grateful for the experience, as it gave him valuable combat training and a good amount of discipline. Back then he was a delinquent, now he was a well trained man who knew when to suck up to people and follow orders. If he had decided to behave as he did when he was very young towards these Sith, well, let's just say he wouldn't be here today to tell the tale. Maybe that Mercenary Academy was more than just useful, maybe it was a blessing for him, after all, it did make him a much more competent person capable of being highly successful.

 

@Karys Narat iv-Adas

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Solus stepped off the ship with a sign from his vocoder. Though he held no nerve tissues to feel the air of Aaris III, his abilities in the Force gave him all the senses he needed to feel the planet’s unique aura. It reeked of death and blood. The cataclysm that had been known as Innmortos’ baptism of blood still hung in the air like a miasma. The shapes in the Impossible Geometries still spun more sluggishly here, and congealed and separated more slowly then that of Naboo. 

 

Upon reflection however, Solus realized there was also a tint to the Impossible Geometries. That substance that he identified as the Madness still lingered here, ever so subtly. With focus and determination, Solus believed he could follow it back to its source, the beast that his master and he had helped create. Chaos above, Solus wondered what the Temple thought of this place, being the birthplace of where Solus first touched the Madness of the Kathol Rift.

 

"Darth Akheron, does this mighty order have a Code of some sort, one that I should memorize?"

 

Solus was shaken from his focus at the new apprentice words, and without thinking, he interjected @Bernon Mrrgwharr

 

“Allow me to help with that, fellow conduit. The code of the Sith is as ancient as it is enlightening. 

 

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.”

 

Solus paused for a moment and added, “Of course, what that will mean to you will be different from other Sith, as I have been told. I have interpreted it as to be unrestricted in both passion and imagination. Through unrestricted passion, I am discovering unrestricted power. Through unrestricted imagination, I have discovered unrestricted insight. But I wonder if that is what Innmortos believes.”

 

Solus looked to Akheron for approval of his words. While he still held a slight grudge towards his master at the moment, he did realize that his teachings still held merit for the Shard and thus, this new apprentice. 

 

“Of course, blind one, I am curious on your interpretation of the Sith Code” Solus aimed towards @Lord Ōk Rägnär. “Tell us, what insights have you been granted into the ways of the Dark?”

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Akheron nodded approvingly at his apprentice words. It appeared he had at least heeded some of the lessons he had been trying to impart upon him and grown. Perhaps his trip to the Temple of the Spider had been productive. He spoke aloud.

 

 "My apprentice Solus, speaks the truth. The Code he spoke of is really the only one that true matters. These words of the Sith Code are for you to decipher alone...and yet these words are more than just simple words, they are a guide that in your own understanding of them shall allow you to truly understand the Darkness and control it. And as my apprentice has stated to help you find your own path among your Sith brethren. For the Sith Code will lead you to unlocking your true potential and to master your Anger, Rage and Wrath. To become the immortal Sith weapon you seek to become. For even as a Sith Warrior there are ways to achieve immortality. For I have died many times myself and arisen again, for a true Sith is strong enough to overcome any obstacle, no matter what it may be.

 

 That said let us see if your true master has indeed returned as I imagine he has. For the necromancer is not so easily destroyed."

 

With that Akheron exited the shuttle, motioning Solus or any Sith to bring the pilot with them. For he would be needed.

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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                                   Bernon Mrrgwharr's spirits had risen greatly. He had just heard that he, as a Sith Warrior, could still become immortal. He now realized that yes, he would still seek out the knowledge of immortality along with his Warrior skills. The Jedi had no idea the monsters that they would face in the future, and they had no idea they would face so many immortal Warriors, Assassins, and Sorcerers. Yes, this time, they would win, and they would crush the Jedi until they were nothing but a distant memory of the past. He listened closely as well to any knowledge the two had to offer, and understood the wisdom the best he could. He knew that passion gave him strength, as he had used such passion to rid himself of the ethereal spirits on Ziost. He knew that these words would guide him for the rest of his days, and that they were highly intelligent and wise.

 

                                   He felt the lightsaber in his boot still, and he could feel the power emanating off of it as well. The weapon was undoubtedly strange among even Sith weaponry, and it was weird in that it had made sounds nothing like a normal lightsaber would. That reminded him of the lightsaber he wanted to wield, and he thought this would be a good time to ask about it, given that they were now traveling and a Sith Warrior and Master was among their numbers. He turned his head to Darth Akheron to say "Master, I wished to know, when will I be able to gain such a great weapon as a lightsaber?" He didn't know if he would be given some sort of sword that was similar to a lightsaber to train with or not, and he did not know if he would have to earn his lightsaber either.

 

                                   Bernon walked a little more at ease now, not seeing or hearing any immediate dangers. He still carried himself like a soldier, just more of one on patrol rather than marching in a drill. Another thing he had noticed ever since he first used the Force was that he had a bit of Dark Side power emanating from him, since he was himself he could feel it, of course. However he was not well trained or extremely powerful, not yet anyways, so it was unlikely anyone else had noticed the Darkness emanating from him. On a different note, however, he was a bit excited that he was soon going to see with his very own eyes his Master returning from the dead, giving him a glimpse of true immortality when he did so.

 

                                   He began to hold his light repeating blaster rifle in one arm, and he took out the lightsaber of his Master, holding it in one hand. He decided he didn't want to just pull it out of his boot randomly when presenting his Master with his lightsaber, so he had decided to keep it on hand for when he was to give it to Krath Inmortos. The lightsaber hilt was also unique, it was a very interesting weapon indeed. Soon Bernon Mrrgwharr would see his Master again, and he hoped that he would be pleased as he now has a new host to possess, and his Apprentice brought him his lightsaber.

 

@Karys Narat iv-Adas

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As the quartet of Sith and the Linnorm traversed the many steps to the top of the tower, Akheron decided to answer the younger, potential Warrior's enquiry. He approved of the fact he was asking such questions...for all had merit. And the more asked the better Sith he would become.

 

 "I'm afraid that is not for me to decide. That decision lies alone with your true master, Krath Inmortos, for only he and you shall know when the time is to to begin the process. But mark my words it shall not be long, that said however a lightsaber is not the only weapon that in the hands of the right Sith can inspire fear or respect from your enemies. Some favour the ways of old, forgotten arts like the Sith Sword or a staff imbued with Darkness enough to resist most other weapons and a lightsaber itself. On the subject of a lightsaber perhaps I should clarify a misconception.

 

A lightsaber is a weapon yes, but it is also more than this to a true Sith. A lightsaber is a extension of yourself, of the very Darkness within you. It assists us in accessing and unlocking our abilities in the fury of battle, a Sith and his or her lightsaber are symbiotic in nature. We are one, and this why the Jedi fail, time and again. They do not understand this. That a lightsaber is more than a simple crystal or weapon. There are many ways to make a lightsaber crystal itself, involving a few dangerous rituals for those untrained in how to do so. Methods known only to a true Sith. Although that is not to say there are easier methods such as a synthetic crystal...but these lack the potency of a crystal crafted by your own hand. They lack the same symbiotic relationship with the Darkness. A real crystal must be made one of two ways, two potent yet dangerous rituals in their own right. Either they are bled...that is to say you must take a crystal from a enemy, a Jedi or Imperial Knight and 'bleed ' it. Pouring your negative emotions into the crystal until it bleeds crimson red, all your Hate, Anger, Rage, Wrath and anything else. 

 

Or the second method and I believe personally the best method. But also the most dangerous as my apprentice here can attest too, is by making the crystal yourself. This can only be done in places of potent Darkness, a Dark Nexus in the Force. Such as Korriban and other such places and at the epicentre of the Darkness within the Nexus. In these places with this ritual you must take some of your own blood, fresh and untainted, and that of a creature or enemy you have killed. Along with a bone or tooth of this creature, which shall form your hilt and the electrical components required to power your lightsaber properly. With this you head into such a Nexus and there you must focus yourself in deep meditation, focusing yourself in the Darkness and drawing it in. You must enter a kind of trace like state, a euphoric moment of awakening to some, and in that moment focus all your Rage, Hate, Wrath etc until the blood you took from yourself and your target begins to float...to join together and in that moment crystallize into a physical form. It is a draining method and not easy, not by any stretch...For you will face your demons and the Darkness will test you, you will experience pain and anguish unlike you can ever imagine, but I assure you, no other lightsaber crystal is more potent or more connected to you than this. For it is a personal endeavour, a sacred bond between you and the Darkness that takes place. 

 

As I said the method of a true Sith, at least one willing to prove their dedication to the Darkness.

 

I hope that answers your questions for now."

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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

 

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Dictum had remained silent for most of the journey to Aaris III, reveling in meditation and delving into the dark abyss. While such things were highly practiced by the Jedi and Imperial Knights, few Sith truly aspired to understand the depths it could take one. For Dictum, it was a true understanding and bonding with the Force and a deeper means to bind its will to his own. Knowledge was power, and power wrought victory. As the ship set down, Dictum rose and followed the others.

 

"The Code of the Sith is meaningless on it's own..." Dictum responded to Solus as his blind gaze fell upon the surface of Aaris III, shifting about and focusing on the focal point that was the Spire. The Darkness here was strong, thinning the veil between life and death as if there were no separation between the two here. Shifting his gaze briefly back to the Shard, he finished. "It's meant to guide you to a singular truth and the freedom it brings: follow your own. Let your passions be your guide. But it doesn't guide one into the Darkness...." Pausing briefly, he gaze shifts to Akheron as a smirk raises upon his veiled face. "No. The Darkness is something you find on your own."

 

"As for the creation of a lightsaber, let the Darkness guide you." Dictum speaks the younger Apprentice as the group begins their trek toward the spire. "Once you've become to attuned to the Darkness within yourself, it will be your true Master." Dictum stops for a second as he stares off into the distance, a glance of visages through the thinned veil catching his sight in secrecy. He chuckles under his breath as steam rises from his smirked lips. "This is when you will know you are ready. As will your Master. But as with any Weapon, it's just that, a weapon, but one others place value upon."

 

Dictum brings forth his own saber, igniting its crimson blade. "To me... it's meaningless. It's crystal was taken from a powerless Jedi Knight who's likely lost to the memory of time and its hilt is forged from parts you can find upon any planet." Dictum deactivates it and places it back upon his hip before continuing onward toward the Spire atop the steps. "The true weapon and power of a Sith is in themselves, binding the will of the Force and bending its reality to their own. Only then will you truly be free of its binding constructs and will. Master it and become its Master, just like Akheron and the Necromancer."

 

With that spoken, Dictum catches up to Akheron and leaves Solus and Bernon to their thoughts on what he had spoken. He had already spoken more than he liked. He knew different Sith held different beliefs, but these were his own, his truth. And his truth was evolving. Looking ahead to the Spire, he questioned Akheron. "So the Necromancer lives? In this domain of his? I can feel his presence everywhere, seeping into this planet's core."

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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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"The Code of the Sith is meaningless on it's own...It's meant to guide you to a singular truth and the freedom it brings: follow your own. Let your passions be your guide. But it doesn't guide one into the Darkness....No. The Darkness is something you find on your own."

 

Solus’ voice box chuckled loudly at the being’s words. 

 

“How amusing it is to hear your words of wisdom! But I must disagree with a concept of yours, for you sell the Dark Side short. In my experience, the Darkness will find you, one way or another. All hear its call, but some more than others, like us. However, we have made the choice to listen to its words and embrace its core essences. That is a concept of the Temple of the Spider, and one I now believe in. But don’t worry blind one, their teachings are secret to most.” 

 

Having said this and left to his own devices, Solus continued to follow the group. However, a moment of inspiration was beginning to strike him. The Madness gurgled at the edges of his sanity, speaking disgusting words. The Force around him momentarily trembled. The Dark Side resonated with him as well the planet’s own essence.

Unable to resist, Solus pulled the modified  Valachord and began to play its strings. 

 

“On lost planet of Aaris III
An empty grave we’ve come to see
That poor soul has made its way…

 

With mists most thick with souls aflame
We soon begin to call his name
Hurry, hurry, we can’t delay!

 

Innmortos, Innmortos, arise, arise
We still await your final demise!”

 

Solus chuckled to himself as he continued playing his song that simultaneously praised the necromancer’s abilities while mocking them. He recognized that the necromancer had power. There was no argument about that. But as a Sith and a rival, Solus would never pass up an opportunity to put the undead thing in its inevitable place: beneath him. 

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                       Bernon Mrrgwharr listened to all of the Sith as they spoke their own truths on the lightsaber and the Sith's Code. Bernon somewhat disliked the fact that Solus continuously disobeyed his Master and disagreed with him, in his mind that kind of attitude wouldn't get him the rank of Sith Lord, and it would in turn get him nowhere. He took the idea that lightsabers were meaningless with a grain of salt however, because in combination with himself and the Force, it could become an extension of himself and the Dark Side. Maybe the idea that lightsabers were meaningless meant something he did not yet understand, or perhaps he was just not a Warrior of the Sith, and perhaps an Assassin or a Sorcerer. In the end he didn't know, and it probably didn't matter what path he had chosen.

 

                     He continued to walk along the path towards wherever the group was headed, following not far behind Akheron and Dictum. He, unlike Solus, he believed unlike Solus anyways, had a massive amount of ambition. He wanted to become a Lord of the Sith as soon as possible, and planned on soaking up the truths and power of the Dark Side as he did so. He would get through his training, and he would learn the ways of hand to hand, sword, spear, and various lightsaber styles of combat, this he knew. He would rise as a powerful Sith whom all would fear, and he would lead armies into war against the Galactic Alliance, and he would slaughter Jedi like none had before. These things he felt were a part of his destiny, and with his ambition, he would see them soon enough, he believed.

 

                     His reserves of passion and emotion were filled with many things, stored anger, that while used before, could be used again and again, as he was not a forgiving man, stored ambition and fear of failure, which would lead him to victory, among many other emotions swirling throughout his mind. On another note, however, he had thought a bit about the idea of a Sith Sword, but decided against it, he believed swords were primitive in comparison to a lightsaber, and that lightsabers were much more practical. A lightsaber could much more easily cut through doors, a lightsaber could much more easily be concealed than a large sword could, in the end he had made up his mind, and it would be hard to change it. He wanted a double-bladed lightsaber, he really did want heavy weapons and heavy armor. Sure, with all that weight, he would be slower, but the only reason anyone would need the advantage of speed against him would be to run away.

 

                     He thought for a while about another important subject, a war between the Sith and Jedi in the future, and in combination, a war between the Galactic Alliance and the Sith armies. The Jedi could be warriors, yes, but their compassion and code prevented them from taking any measure possible for victory and success. The Sith had no such moral qualms, and it would lead them to victory. The armies however, would be a different story, he knew that the Galactic Alliance by now probably had a strong army and navy, and if the Sith wanted to defeat them, they would need to secretly build up their strength. He believed that the best way to do this was probably to do an under the table deal with droid manufacturers in order to build an army of battle droids. Once they had a droid army they could back up their promises of victory to possible allies with the fact that they already had a strong army. Their allies would hand over units made up of militias, security forces, and even some of their combat droids. He believed that once they had all of those forces, they could get the support of the Mandalorians, who would see the opportunity for a real chance at success in war, and would quickly join them in the fight.

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Seated atop his frigid throne, the icy cold grew to encompass the wraith that was Inmortos. Within he was but a pale blue shadow of his former, a ghost of a man, beautiful and ethereal. His outward appearance; however, was frozen in place fixed to his throne that sat deathly still as a font of raw eternal stillness. The power of absolute nothingness frozen for all eternity. 
 

The stillness was interrupted by only one thing. The ravages of the howling storm outside were silenced within the inky black darkness of his throne room. Even the light could not reach his throne. The last gasps of a dying world had faded completely, damned to a fate worse than death. The roar of the cosmos was lost beyond the foggy veil. Even the tendrilled reaching grasp of the force, of the dark side failed to carry the whispers of any of the worlds outside. And the damned, the dead, they knew better than to whisper here in this hallowed hall. No, the only interruption that carried on the billowing winds were the petty arguments of the nature of the dark side, of Sith philosophy. Inmortos had libraries of such drabble stowed within his frozen libraries below and from more learned sages than these, they that sought power beyond their grasp.

 

And so the spirit of Inmortos trembled and the storm outside followed suit. Clashes lf thunder and bolts of sizzling lighting erupted from the storm as blinding snow and cutting ice began to whip on the wind. Those that survived the ascent would be found worthy to step foot within his throne room. Spirits of the dead, foreign and chained to this world after the decimation of her native peoples flew through the storm, cackling and shrieking as they sought to torment the fateful Sith who climbed the external circling stairs that spiraled higher and higher about the ziggurat that held the throne of the god-king.

 

Before they could enter the diased balconies that circled the throne room, a bolt of lightning split the sky and struck the body of the fated linworm, the pilot, one of the chosen acolytes of the sky pirates whom @Karys Narat iv-Adas and he had commanded before their destruction over Nar Shaddaa, fell, toppling from the railless stair steps and plummeting into the storm below with a scream as his body ignited in flames. He would be dead before he hit the ground, if he did in fact hit the ground, obscured by the storm, far below.

 

And then the rest of the group made it, their condition and wear their own. Who knew how long the ascent had taken them, how many times they too had fallen into the storm only to land atop the drifting snow at it’s base. When they entered; however, the sounds of the storm died away completely as it ravaged outside. Within the throne room the inky blackness and deathly cold muted sounds and colors as their very breaths crystalized before them and the cold played at exposed bits of flesh and metal. And in the darkness sat the visage of Inmortos, frozen atop his throne, the world about him, in this room, radiating with all the power, all the overwhelming unnatural unbreakable stillness of his domain. It was here that time itself might freeze in place and here that the veil between life and death was gone, leaving only an icy bridge upon which to cross, a coat of frozen fog the only separation between the two, a veil to freeze the souls of any damned that sought to cross over uninvited and to suck the life of any living who dared cross without proper penance. 
 

and in the stillness a single voice seemed to radiate in the cold.

 

”Our lord Inmortos welcomes the living damned to that where even the dead fear to trod.”

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When the lighting struck and outright killed the Linnorm, Solus stopped his playing, recognizing the situation he was in. 

 

“Perhaps music can wait for another time…” Solus commented as he put his Valachord onto his back. While his chassis helped prevent any nervous shaking, he had to admit that there was a quiver of fear in the Force. Not a great one that would be noticeable, but enough of one to get the Shard to silence for a moment.

 

 He glanced at @Bernon Mrrgwharr, and in his slightly frayed nerves, made a joke. “Perhaps your master did not approve of that one, and will use you as his next vessel? Heh, I doubt that however. No doubt he is just wanting to show off his powers and to get us to pay him some more respect. Of course, I hold nothing but respect for the necromancer. Control over the dead is no doubt a difficult skill.”

 

 As the group continued, Solus seemed to excel in the current conditions. The heavy winds struggled to knock over his heavier, denser body of metal and wires, and when the gusts did become strong enough to actually force him to react, he did so quickly, the benefit of having a smaller body. However, the flashes of lightning made Solus keep an eye on the sky. Only recently did he hear the idea of ‘ionization’ weapons, and he had no desire to come close to such a thing. In his mind, lightning and ion weapons were closely related. 

 

However, as more progress was made, Solus began to slow down. The dropping temperature began to play on his more delicate systems, something he began to note out loud. 

 

“Remind me in the future to upgrade my lubricant processors. And to perhaps replace my core battery unit. Something with a bit more charge.This thing does have its advantages though. I am surprised that you beings can do so well without metal boots, hehe. 

 

 These chills are making my discharge rate go beyond  comfort though. You organics have it slightly easier. Yes, easier, with your insulated bodies and warm liquid blood. Oh how I envy you, you lucky, lucky beings. You don’t know what it is like, no you don’t. To be trapped in the confines of helplessness. To exist in this world of worlds for so long, and to not know the horrors I have seen.  No, you beings are way too lucky for your own good, yes yes yes.. ”

 

As Solus trailed off in his envy, any Force User would notice something about the Shard. Instead of slowing down, he began to move faster and quicker. There were even moments when the Shard seemed to take 20 steps in the time he should’ve only taken two. The Dark Side began to swirl around the Shard and move into his wires and joints, speeding up the energy and momentum. Whether Solus was accessing Force Speed consciously  or not was debatable, but it seemed his envy was aiding where his chassis was failing in the bitter temperatures.  

 

When the group made to the throne room, Solus quieted himself, but his envy continued to swirl around and through him, its energy flowing through him still, keeping him warmer than his central battery could. 

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Akheron sighed as his apprentice lamented his existence. Envious of those organic yet it amused the Sith Master how little the Shard knew about his existence. About the life of those more flesh than he. Akheron spoke as they traversed the bitter cold and the wailing storm. He could hear and see the undead spirits, little more than slaves to Inmortos will and power, floating about with caution. He kept an eye upon them, remembering Ziost.

 

He noted the sky as lightning cracked it open, sporadically at first until a much larger bolt split it wide. In that moment Akheron knew...Inmortos was here alright. The lightning hit the Linnorm taking him over the edge to whatever awaited below, Akheron found the spectacle somewhat amusing...it appeared either the necromancer disliked his offering or was attempting to possess him. He couldn't tell which. He walked onwards and upwards, spreading out his presence in the Darkness, his Wrath and Rage on display to deter any spirit from seeking to possess him. 

 

 "Seize your complaints, you are beginning to try my patience thin. You think you know of helplessness, of horrors untold, you know nothing. In the darkest corners of this universe and Chaos itself the Dark never sleeps. In the void, Darkness waits to consume all. To claim it's due. Or have you forgotten. Death, remembers all."

 

He spoke no more, eventually reaching the top of the tower. Within the throne room, Akheron issued a quick bow before speaking in reply. He recognised the voice, even if he could not see the source just yet.

 

 "Darth Akheron, Lord of Wrath and Rage accepts his greetings. I bring your apprentice Lord Inmortos, and we did have a offering...but he fell on the way up. Although I suspect perhaps that was your doing my brethren. Regardless, you accomplished your objective upon Ziost, the blood price was paid, now we see what happens next, as the Darkness leads us."

 

He motioned Bernon forward to return to his Master.

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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As soon as his words were spoken, everything became drowned out by the raging storm as its intensity magnified and threatened to rip both hair from upon his crown and robes from his visage as he continued his deafening trek behind Akheron and in front of the others. Only the shrieks and wails of the dead managed to pierce the iced veil, Dictum turning to gaze upon the Necromancer's mortal divinity through the Force. Truly, he was a Master of the Void, and one Dictum welcomed to learn from. But that would come from time and in patience. First, Dictum would need to show his worth, and in worth, his power.

 

Roughly about half way up the enlarged steps, above the clouds that lingered upon the planet's lower atmosphere where oxygen was strongest, both the natural and unnatural began to threaten their relative safety. Here, amongst the heavens where the air was thinner and the storm's core was closer, the dead swarmed in droves, chained and bound to this side of the veil where peace could never be attained and only remorse and memories remained. As the others seemed relatively unphased, the dead seemed to focus upon Dictum, as the Sith Lord felt and felt their call.

 

Visions of the damned wraiths, wrapped within their durasteel bindings, forced their way into his mind's eye, feelings of their deaths and regrets dancing upon his thoughts. He could feel their emotions wrapping his own, like beings who wished to forcefully tell their own, and Dictum did his best to keep them at bay. One moment, he would catch their visages at a distance, then for a brief moment, he could feel their cold grasps reaching for his robes as their hunger and intent blossomed upon his conscience. The cold of Aaris III wasn't a threat. But these beings were. And only Dictum's will kept them from conquering his mind.

 

With each step in their climb, the closer they drew to the castle in the sky, the thinner the air got and the thinner the veil drew. It grew to the point that logic and thought could no longer tell where life ended and death began. And as Dictum grinned, he understood the depth of Inmortos' plight. For Akheron, it seemed to be the fight, as any Warrior would openly express. For Solus, it seemed to be insanity amongst a logical existence. For the Apprentice, Bernon, it had yet to be defined. But for Inmortos, it was existence, whether in life or the after. Which begged the question: what was it for Dictum?

 

Just as the question came to Dictum's mind, the two familiar presences made themselves known, visages bound both in chains and in desires, two beings who would stand out amongst the wraiths that threatened his individualism. And both beckoned to take his place. Their selfishness, their greed, and their lust were well known to him. For his father and former Master stood upon the precipice just as he stood before the Castle's Great Door upon the balconies that encircled the Grand Throneroom. And for the first time in his life, he felt their envy.

 

In his father, he felt the longing he never had, to be there with his child. He felt the man's regret for the life he had lived. And he could feel his anger that Dictum stood where he could not. Dictum mentally scoffed. The man never bothered to be a Father, only sought his destruction. And in his Master, he felt the vengeance he will toward his former pupil for having struck him down, his lust for powers he never held the chance to learn, and his determination to pay Dictum back for his treachery. And yet, both had yet to grasp the truth. For it was they who led Dictum to this path, and they who forged him into the Sith Lord he had became. It was their teachings that had wrought this present, him amongst the living and them amongst the dead. And as they sought to possess his being, he condemned and damned their souls to eternity.

 

Not for what they had done to the child that eventually became a man. Not for the Darkness in their hearts or even their attempts to trade places. No. He actually understood their plight in this endeavor. No. He condemned and damned them for a singular reason. They were weak. His father for allowing his cousins to survive. And his Master for falling so easily to his blade. For in Dictum, they deserved their fate, for the failings had became his own. Their weakness his, a weakness he sought to purge. His endeavor would be one of simplicity: the endeavor of power. The rest was miniscule details. And his will was absolute.

 

Reaching upward, Dictum opened the door and took his step inside. Enveloped in utter darkness, he shut the door behind him. His path was clear, even to a blind man. And he had much to learn.

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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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