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Aaris III


Tarrian Skywalker

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Akheron listened to his wayward apprentice as if he were to a petulant child. How he mocked, belittled and showed his betters such disrespect. And in turn mocked powers beyond his comprehension. The arrogance of youth and inexperience on full display. For in his arrogance he believed he was already superior and free of his chains when he had barely tapped his true potential. He would soon learn how very wrong he was, that he was not quite as transcendent as he believed in his Madness. 

 

For Akheron saw him for what he was. Blinded and consumed by the very Madness he had sought to control. 

 

He would show him just how much more he had to learn. If he wished for transcendence he would have to earn it, he would not make it easy. He would beg for mercy before the end or see the truth he had been trying to show him. One way or another. Akheron listened as the spectre of Inmortos appeared, making Akheron's declaration holy rite in the face of the Darkness and the Fanged God. For he spoke truth. They were now bound not just in blood but spiritually to carry out the Kaggath.

 

For the Darkness recoiled and answered the call, as even the great beast lurking nearby took notice. Stopping it's assault momentarily. 

 

As Solus struck the low baring wall, attempting to crush the Sith Warrior within, Akheron sensed it. His own Darkness alerting him to the fact, and so he acted on instinct. Focusing his Rage and Wrath he stretched out a hand to hold back the tide of rock and debris threatening to encase the Sith. And with Telekinesis he removed those blocking his escape, just enough so he could fit. Squeezing through, he exited along the hallway he had previously traversed.

 

Lightsaber ablaze with crimson to light the path and aid him in teaching his apprentice a lesson of Rage and Wrath. His. And how he would learn. For in his futile attempt at defiance he knew not what he now faced. This was not the Master he knew, but a beast on the hunt. A destroyer set loose to burn and purge his soul of the arrogance he had shown. To show the price of his contempt and hubris, to show him how the Darkness favoured only the strongest.

 

And to conquer Death and defy the Fanged God his soul was to be strong. To be free of another chain. To show him what was possible when you truly let yourself be at one with the Darkness. For even in Death, Akheron had grown stronger. He could feel Solus ahead of him, inside his ship. Yet the Shard had forgotten critical fact. He had taught him everything he knew, he was as a open book. However he did hope he had grown.

 

For even in his righteous Anger he felt Pride at what his apprentice was attempting to do. To try and accomplish what he must to ascend and gain his Lordship. To be recognised by the Darkness for what he was. Just as once he had, long ago now. A price was paid, just as now. 

 

Like a great hunter, he stalked his prey. Eyes narrowed as he advanced towards the meeting spot, only the crimson of the loaned blade lightning his way in the dark and bitter cold of the raging storm. He acknowledged it, and felt the return of the necromancer. But kept his focus fixed upon his current objective. And in the gloom he spotted him. 

 

The Mad one. His apprentice. 

 

Awaiting to be taught a new lesson. He knew there would be traps, he expected as much for his opponent was an Assassin, lacking of honour and the will to fight face to face, unless they could help it. To strike from the shadows, instead of the front. To not see the look in the enemies eyes as they perished, the greatest of all fruits to bare. At least that's how he saw it. For to savour the last look was to see the soul as it descended to feed the Fanged God and the Darkness. And Akheron relished it as much as any Sith Warrior. 

 

Would he see such a look upon his apprentice should he perish, he wondered. He would soon see.

 

Lightsaber in hand, he approached cautiously, while his other held back the Darkness. Ready to uncoil like a snake at a moment's notice.

 

He spoke out in rebuttal.

 

 "It is you who shall be undone, my wayward apprentice. Let me show you another lesson, and show you the price of such disrespect. For you insult powers beyond your comprehension in your mockery. In your Madness you have been consumed, in the arrogance of youth and inexperience. Face my Wrath, my Rage and know the true power of the Darkness. Let me show you what it is to be a Master of Darkness, a emissary of the Fanged God. If you want me for your prize, come earn it. Come play with the beast within and become the hunters prey of the destroyer of worlds. Let the Kaggath begin."

 

With that he readied himself for whatever happened next.  

 

(First official Sith Lord final test/duel Kaggath post is for you Solus, good luck.))

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas

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

Akheron.jpg

 

 "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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There, in front of the ramp to the Falleen 578-R Transport, Solus heard his masters’ words. He heard his master calls of madness, and Solus, in his own special case of insanity, almost agreed with him. But he was not weak. Not in the slightest. His master, as much as Solus hated him, had helped make him strong. Akheron taught him to break each and every inhibition, and the Temple, in their strange and esoteric ways, helped Solus connect to something even greater. A ream of the Darkside that few would ever knowingly tap into. 

 

“Emissary of the Fanged God? Ha!” Solus shouted as he holstered his lightsaber. “Then I must be the ambassador of anarchy!" 

 

The Kaggoth had begun. 

 

Solus raised both arms and threw them forward. The Force  reacted as a wave of tendrilled hatred flowed through the Impossible Geometries from the Shard’s center. As it flowed along the cold squares of the ground, the wave picked up everything it could. Snow and ash whipped upwards into a blinding cloud towards Akheron. Solus' memory of facing the that Tree Jedi on Nar Shaddaa flashed back, and the Shard recalled how he got some distance from that giant thing using a similar trick. This time however, neither the tree nor Akheron would bait him into doing something stupid.

 

“I am your end heretic!!” Solus shouted as he pushed the snow and ash up at Akheron.  

 

Following this, Solus tapped into the Force again, leaping upwards and landing on the ship’s dorsal area with a resounding clang. The use of so much Force so quickly left the Shard slightly exhausted, but his training had taught him to push on.

 

Retrieving his genuine blade, Solus crouched and awaited for Akheron to follow, limiting his own visibility from the ground. The Shard’s red blade would ignite and swing the moment Akheron followed. 

 

ROUND 1

 

(Solus opened this by trying to blind Akheron temporarily with the snow and ash of the planet, followed by Force Jumping onto the relatively flat top of the ship. He has prepared himself to swing the moment Akheron shows his body) 

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As an Assassin, Dictum's knowledge of the Dark Arts performed by the castes of Sith Sorcerers was vaguely limited and estimated. His own realm was that of the Shadows, Death, and Chaos, a realm that few walked with sanity and decree. For him to assume anything of the veils beyond was mere stipulation and guess-work. And so, it did not surprise him of the reality in which he had mistook.

 

As Inmortos appeared behind him, he turned to greet the Sorcerer with a degree of respect and acclaim. But that held no extended pleasure as the Master's words etched themselves in his mind and in his soul. For Inmortos' own reality soon forged its self upon Dictum's own. And in that very moment, as two realities collided, his just reward was just that. And in its consummation, became more.

 

As finger plunged flesh, the seeping of soulfrost encapsulating the puncture, Dictum found himself delving a deeper understanding of pain, fear, and gluttony as Inmortos scratched upon his soul. There were no words that could allow comprehension of what transpired, only a simple layman's term could give subtle hints as emotions swept at Dictum's mind and soul. For pain stood at the forefront, inconceivable pain that treated both consciousness and spirit, and in the moment, fear compared to deathly fright filled his mind with anguish and agony. But Dictum's soul was not without strength, and it stood welcoming as the revelation of power consumed his heart gluttonously.

 

Even as his form trembled and his soul ached in pain and fear, an almost freezing paralysis station of being, deep within the soul that Inmortos touched, a deep well of hunger resided, threatening to consume both. Yet, as Inmortos' finger found its scarred crevasse, and with a single motion tore out a portion of Dictum's soul, the world trembled at its awakened power. And in its final moments, Dictum fell to all four.

 

Gasping for air, Dictum's strength wavered immensely as his weak bones threatened to crumble beneath his weight. He coughed, then gagged, before ichor vomited from his mouth and his gaze struggled to watch the moments as they transpired. But his hunger remained, the gluttonous depravity lingering in his soul as he held onto his power. And as the dust settled figuratively and the rumbling stone settled physically, Dictum found strength to rise once again to his feet as the crystals sealed his wound.

 

Hearing the movements beside him, Dictum's gaze turned toward the mummified remains as they lifted from their sleep with true revelation. Dictum had offered his soul, and in it's acceptance, the devil arose. Now the time to unleash hell grew even closer. And upon the precipice of Chaos, Dictum stood between two worlds. No longer was he a mere Assassin of the Sith. No, he had became more, a living blade that stood at Death's Door. And in his gaze, he saw his mission. He was to answer those who came to knock. He was to be the voice of Chaos. He was, is, Death's Divinity.

 

He would sow it's seeds and reap it's harvest as Harbinger.

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Dictum.jpg.0f5717fd74fdc4ee9bfc91ffc3fa3457.jpgDarth Dictum

 

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

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Akheron returned another rebuttal.

 

 "We shall see, my wayward and consumed apprentice. Show me what you really are, for with me you shall know no mercy within." 

 

Akheron could feel his apprentice. His hatred, rage. His Envy and Madness pulsating like a great drum within the Darkness, and within that same madness he could see how he had failed to heed his most important lesson. To not allow yourself to be drawn so deep as to completely lose who you were.and be consumed by the very Darkness he had sought to control. And he had lost control, that much was now evident. 

 

Like a young pup he had lost his way and it was up to his master to lead him from going astray. And he would teach him, in the most painful and humiliating way imaginable. He would educate him in the matters of loss and pain, in what it was to be a Sith. To break all chains. 

 

The Sith Warrior and Master recalled fresh lessons learnt from his recent loss upon Falleen to the Jedi. He would not advance and follow his enemy, no instead he would draw them into his own trap. As his apprentice attempted to blind him, Akheron reacted quickly, his experience shining through like a beacon, honed senses on a razor sharp edge, poised to strike down any who opposed him. With his coiled hand, he stretched forth with his Rage and to unleash his own wave of Darkness.

 

His mind was numb to all but the cold. No emotions were on display, only a heartless calculus and cold objectivity. A place where compassion or the light feared to tread. This was the state of the Cold Mind. Solus movements became obstacles to overcome and nothing more. 

 

As his wayward apprentice and opponent jumped onto the top of the ship, he let loose. Wave after wave of pure blasts born of his internal Darkness ruptured forwards, lifting snow, ice, ash and metal, meant with one purpose. To obliterate and destroy anything in it's chosen path, to crumble anything not bolted down to the ground as the Sith Warrior attempted to Shatter the land and ship. And hopefully the one on top of it.

 

This was a sight unseen by his wayward apprentice previously. A deadly predator, a Hunter seeking his prey.

 

Behind this wall of righteous retribution, Akheron followed. Using the attempt as a mere distraction, a way to get in close and slice at his enemy. With the Speed of the Darkness he advanced, dodged and darted. Drawing ever closer, moving through what little of the ship remained,  until he was close enough that he attempted to slice horizontally across his torso before following with another diagonal from hip to neck and head.

 

(( 1 ))

 

((Used the Sith Warrior technique Shatter, followed by Force Speed and a double hit combination at his torso via horizontal slice and a diagonal at the neck/head area.))

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas

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

Akheron.jpg

 

 "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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The first sign of something nasty heading towards Solus was in the Impossible Geometries. Solus could only describe it as a 'bad feeling' as it crashed towards the ship. Where Solus’ waves of hatred were a black cloud, his master’s was a storm. It was truly a sobering realization of how much a power gap there was between the Shard and the Sith. 

 

The second sign was the ship itself. It shook before it started to crumble, and Solus realized his first intentional strike was not going to cut it, literally or figuratively. He had to adapt as he leapt backwards with the wave crashing through the ship towards him. Even so, the wave sent him flying. His artifical body groaned as the blast ripped through the metal, but the leap had lessoned the blow slightly, enough for it to not be a killing strike. Even so, his fake Hilt broke apart on his back, and his holorecording did get somewhat damaged. 

 

Solus flew backwards from the shattering blast. However, his training at the Temple already began to show its benefits. The training in zero gravity, the practice of fighting in the open air, all of these forced Solus to think in three dimensions. As Solus crashed into the ground, he tucked his body in and rolled backwards into a stance, lightsaber drawn, activated and ready. 

 

" Ow. alright that was unpl... oh kriff" Solus looked up just in time to see his master swinging at him. 

 

The one advantage Solus had being in close quarters was, ironically, his size.  Being smaller, his movements required less energy and less time to block what the Sith threw at him. However, it took most of his focus just to block the attacks, and the power of each one pushed Solus backwards slightly. With each strike, Akheron would get closer to beating the Shard into a defenseless position. 

 

This was not good. Solus thought. I need distance. Kriff, if only I had my original body from Ishvara! Then I'd crush him! The children of Ishvara would crush him toge-

 

On the last blow, Solus blocked and held the strike momentarily, before giving his master what could’ve been described as a determined look.  Or at least, as determined as an analysis droid could look. 

 

“Tear, now!” Solus shouted.

 

In the Force, the Madness seeped out and attempted to lodge in Akheron’s mind as Solus performed the Ritual of the Wyyrlok again. Unlike before when awaiting his master’s appearance and calling up the image of some flying polyp, Solus influenced this final result. Here, he used a singular name to pull on the shared memories of both the aggressor and the defender. Specifically, the first memory of the two meeting the first time on Falleen. A memory where Solus had his own ally to use. A fellow child of Ishvara.

 

A blood curdling howl rose up. From the ash and snow, the hallucination of Tear pounced towards Akheron’s back. He was much more twisted than before. The Sith Hound was caked over in spider webbings, as if it had been inside the great spider beast on the planet. Tear’s glowing red eyes had been replaced with numerous spider ones, each one reflecting an infinite starry night. It was as if this version of Tear had been inside the Kathol Rift and had been mutated by it. 

 

As the hallucination attacked with a mad fixation, Solus attempted to break away from Akheron. Keeping low to the ground to avoid any accidental swings in his direction, Solus moved around the Sith and moved towards the debris of his ship. During this movement, The Shard kept his sensors focused on Akheron, careful not to break the ritual.

 

It was difficult, but Solus resisted the urge to mock his master. Instead, he deactivated his blade again and ducked to the ground, hiding behind some of the rubble. While this meant he had to break his gaze on Akheron, ending the Ritual prematurely, it meant he could attempt to vanish from sight. 

 

Solus crouched under what was the remains of an outer hull plating of the ship. While hiding, the training of fighting the Acklay beasts flashed in the Shard's mind. Deactivated blade in one hand, Solus retrieved his holopad recording and slid it out into the open, activating it.  

 

The holopad began to display its message of a Sith soldier and his urgent message. The damage it sustained from the Shatter ability made the thing flicker in and out, making it appear like it had been inside the ship and had barely survived. 

 

“Alert! Attention all Sith forces. Korriban is falling! Repeat, Korriban is falling! Imperial Forces have overtaken all sectors and are currently breaching the Praexeum! Repeat! Korriban is lost to the Imperial Forces!”

 

The trap now set, Solus prepared himself for Akheron to investigate the urgent message. If the fall of his home world didn't interest the Sith master, then Solus doubted this was Akheron at all. When his master was in view, Solus would strike again. 

 

(Leaping from the ship and losing his planned attack, Solus is barely able to block Akheron's attacks, albeit, barely. He has taken damage and his fake hilt no longer would fool anyone. Forced into a corner, Solus had to use a mental attack with the Ritual of the Wyyrlok, and broke away to hide amongst the rubble of the ship. He is attempting to distract Akheron with the recording about Korriban's fall to imperial forces. )

Edited by Solus
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Akheron laughed almost as if to mock his opponent and as if he were simply toying with his apprentice, as he struck at the metal attempting to slice him apart. Or at least maim him, for he held no intention to kill his wayward apprentice, only to make him suffer. To humiliate and humble him in the face of the Darkness and prove how wrong he was.

 

He would bleed the arrogance from him. With each strike he drew closer to his objective, forcing Solus backwards and showing how much of a gap of knowledge there was. Showing him that to underestimate a Sith Warrior was to invite doom upon yourself. He was however impressed by his tenacity and determination under such circumstances, even despite the inevitable fate that would await him should he fail. It was as the final strike nearly cleaved him in two that the hallucination took hold.

 

Albeit not straight away. For the Master of Darkness was well versed in suffering from illusions, hallucinations and all manner of tricks by the many that had tried and failed in his lifetime to try and break his mind. All had failed. All had suffered in torment and had their souls fed to the Fanged God and the Darkness. 

 

As the illusion of Tear created by Solus struck at his back, Akheron reacted. Twisting around he struck at it, but after finding no purchase his eyes narrowed as his mind started to adjust, even as the intensity of the Madness of hallucination clawed at his mind like a rake, trying to break his concentration and consume him with the image of Tear, mutated and grotesque, driven by insanity to try and devour. 

 

As he tried to strike again, the beast vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Akheron observed and looked about for his real target, for Solus. But found he had used the moment to escape his grasp. At least temporarily. He had to give him credit for the trick, a smile gripped his lip momentarily before his Rage and Wrath returned. 

 

Focusing his inner Darkness outwards, he attempted to locate his wayward apprentice. And then he found him, his aura in the Darkness, a Madness driven beacon of shadow and hate. As he cautiously approached he saw the message flickering out, listening he took note. So it was as he suspected, Korriban had fallen like the rest, at least if the recording was to be believed. After All it could just be another trick by his apprentice. Another attempt to draw him in. Whatever the case, he filed the information for later. Now was not the time to consider Korriban. Not right now, in the moment. He grew more angered, his hate roiled out in the Darkness. 

 

His apprentice thought it would distract him, instead it only made his Rage and Wrath intensify. 

 

Although he could not see his apprentice, he could feel him. And that was enough, he would know what true suffering was, what it was to be a destroyer. A hunter. A Sith.

 

 "Impressive apprentice, but you cannot hide forever."

 

He called out as he ran forwards, zig sagging before jumping up into the air, attempting to land behind the remains that his opponent was now crouched behind. Plunging the blade of the lightsaber into ground ground he called forth the Darkness to shatter the very earth beneath Solus feet and consume him within as the ground ruptured and split open underneath like a earthquake seeking to devour him. While he doubted it would kill him, it would divert attention.

 

Or at least that was the intention. A technique used for a simple purpose, to interfere with his footing. A setup. For it was to allow for another strike far more deadly. 

 

Advancing, Akheron struck at his apprentice again. This time delivering a un-merciful barrage of blow after blow, with each additional attempt building upon the other intensity. Each was more heavy than the last as he swung and attempted to cut his apprentice apart, like a Sawblade, he struck, his Rage and Wrath growing, adding to his continued frustration and acting like a self sustaining loop of hate. All aimed at his apprentice.

 

((2))

 

((Initially fell for the Tear hallucination from the Ritual of the Wyyrlok. Defended against the illusion, and used a Tremor Impact in the Warrior guide. This was followed by a Sawblade Strike also in the guide.))

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

Akheron.jpg

 

 "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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The ground underneath Solus trembling made Solus begin to scare. He had no idea how Akheron figured out his exact position, but that didn’t matter now. Solus was caught, even as he tried desperately to crawl out from his hiding spot as the ground crumbled underneath him. He was stuck under the piece of hull plating of his ship.

 

Solus felt the yellow mist in the Impossible Geometries. The danger was about to strike him. Turning over onto his back, he called upon the force to push the hull plating away from himself in the direction of his advancing Master. As the makeshift shield was quickly and steadily shredded apart by Akhron’s strikes, with Solus stuck in the ground, a sense of dread began to set in. 

 

On the back of the hull, in Solus' mind, the eyes of the Spider and the Fanged God looked at the Shard, eager for his destruction.

 

Solus laughed as the dread consumed him. This was the way of the Madness. This was the way of the Fanged God. To kill and to be killed. Nihilism incarnate. Even as the potential of Solus' death drew near, the Shard couldn't help but love the fact. 

 

Solus threw his blade with all his might towards the makeshift shield that Akheron shredded. His Korriban recording had the side effect of enraging his master, that much was certain. And as Solus recalled from his own duel with the tree, Pure Rage was not the most defensive tactic. Solus had fallen into that trap. Hopefully, so did Akheron, and the blade would get a strike as the piece of hull was torn away

 

Immediately afterwards, Solus freed himself from the ground. With all sense of safety abandoned , Solus no longer cared if he had to overdraw on the Force itself, even at the cost of his own chassis’ energy. The burst of strength and speed allowed himself to roll over to his hands and knees. Solus followed this up by Force Jumping from his position directly at his foe

 

Enhanced fully with the Force Jump, Solus raised his right arm forward  as if he was going to grab Akheron’s face. In reality, his left hand’s finger opened up, scomp link extended. There was no way he could get Akheron unscathed. The right arm was just a ploy and a sacrifice. But if for a moment, in all of Akheron’s rage and instincts, Solus could manage to get his off hand close, he could lodge it into Akheron’s eye and drain the very knowledge from his brain. He would suck everything he could out of that Sith’s brain, and if Akheron was weak or surprised enough, kill him then and there. 

 

As Solus rapidly flew towards Akheron with the speed of a bullet, Solus threw his off hand forward, scomp link aimed towards Akheron’s eye. All the while, the shard's voicebox continued to laugh and cackle madly. 

 

(Solus got caught in the Tremor Impact and was unable to get himself into a better position as a result. When Akheron attacked with Sawblade strike, Solus attempted a makeshift shield to hold Akheron back momentarily. Solus then threw his lightsaber at Akheron, hoping it would get a strike in, given his own experiences with rage and becoming defenseless. Following this, Solus is overdrawing on the Force, barely able to free himself, and Force Jumping at Akheron, attempting to Drain Knowledge with his scomp link. )

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Akheron observed with the acute eyes of a hawk, locking onto his prey. Another smile gripped the hunter's lip as the ground toiled and cracked sending a wave of dirt and debris towards Solus, although he had somehow managed to survive and now laid in a large crater where once was snow and ice mixed with ash. Stuck under what remained of the ship from his previous assault.

 

Having failed to kill him, his anger grew further into the conductive loop, making his strikes even heavier. If not for his effort of throwing a piece of metal at his master, the wayward apprentice would of perished there and then. Instead he was given a slight reprieve. Having to adjust his tactics, Akheron moved his Rage and Wrath in the Darkness to Push the metal plate towards his apprentice, the forces exerted, adding to the plates own as he saw him leap towards him. 

 

In a last valiant effort to end his master. It was Akheron's attempt at knocking both the lightsaber or him out of the air, and bring either him or both to the ground. To his arena, his surgery. For who was he but not a surgeon upon the battlefield, and all were his patients ripe for the picking. A place of Death. 

 

Following this, Akheron sped forwards his speed dwarfing his apprentice as he put almost everything into it, as he ran at a Rapacious Pursuit. A backup just in case. Hoping to get ahead of the wayward apprentice. It was time to end the charade and bring his humiliation to it's conclusion. As his apprentice stretched out his hand, Akheron attempted to remove it and the arm with the loaned lightsaber as he drew closer. In one piece or two, it didn't matter to him. Carving a path diagonally upwards where he thought the arm would be next.

 

For close quarters was his speciality and he would get as close as he could to inflict the pain he desired to bring upon his prey. 

 

The final crescrendo would be a series of short ranged telekinetic grapples or Chwit’Jen’Itsu. Ones that utilised attacking with rapid joint hyperextension and lightning fast throws aimed at disrupting his opponent. And Akheron knew his apprentice was vulnerable. Perhaps enough to enact the technique. He would soon see. For if a success he would smash his apprentice into the ground and in that way humiliate him. As he was left for dead.

 

 

((3 - Good show Solus, really enjoyed it. Let's see if you did enough to pass the test. ;) ))

 

((Akheron has attempted to defend against the metal plate by launching it back at Solus in a attempt to knock either him, the lightsaber or both out of the air with a powerful Force Push. Followed this up by use of the Rapacious Pursuit technique within the Warrior guide and a slice at the scomp link/arm followed by a final attempt at the technique of Chwit’Jen’Itsu also within the same guide hoping to overwhelm him with the speed of the technique.))

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas

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

Akheron.jpg

 

 "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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  • 2 weeks later...

The mummified remains slowly sat, an ancient body swathed in tightly rolled bandages. Slowly through a slit in the grave clothes two charcoal eyes flickered and burned in the blackness within. Slowly the being turned to regard @Lord Ōk Rägnär. The stillness of the air was interrupted not by anything of this world; instead, on the still air carried the currents of damnation, thousands of souls, some from the hellish beyond, other bound by profane oath and ancient spell, scraps of powerful Sith and shards of necromancers called forth from beyond the grave all shackled to one fractured portion of a power, of a being who commanded the veil itself: Inmortos. Yet the being was not Inmortos, not fully, the thousands of shattered souls filling the void of what lacked in substance for the fractured god-king. And when he spoke, no mouth moved or words formed to part through parched lips, instead the stereophonic voices of untold

suffering blended together as one and carried on the frigid still air.

 

”Your sacrifice has been found acceptable and your reward shall not be wanting. And yet,”

 

the mummy inclined it’s head as if listening to something in the world above,

 

”I sense I am needed elsewhere.”

 

The battle between @Karys Narat iv-Adas and @Solus carried on the backs of the spirits that roved the storm-bound forsaken world. It called to the beast of a being that was as much a part of Aaris III as it was Inmortos himself. The mummy’s eyes swept back to Dictum.

 

”Ascend my ziggurat. Within my throne room, setting at the foot of the dias, you shall find your reward.”

 

Far above in the ripping icy winds and cascading storms, the spirits that served the god-king manifested a single translucent gemstone, jagged and frigid in beauty. All Dictum need do was survive the storms and spirits, resist the temptations to touch the beckoning cold lusts of Inmortos’ throne and the jewel would be his.

 

And in a flourish of dust, the mummified remains, the souls entrapped within vanished, traversing the lines of the veil to escape the doorless room.

 

Moments later, the mummies man materialized in the blowing dust and ash of the plains that contained the battlefield of the Sith Warrior and his Apprentice. His lidless eyes took in the carnage from afar, the waves of the force washing over him, through him as the thousands of spirits took it in, felt it, tasted it, digested it.

 

And just as Akheron removed Solus’ scomped arm from his body, a great wave of the dark side itself swept the field sending shrapnel and debris, dust, ash, and anything not bolted down (which was everything) flying. Even the mummified beast of Inmortos was thrown a great distance; landing in a heap of dust and shrouds.

 

___________________________________
 

OOC: Dueling/Promotional Ruling as per the request of @Karys Narat iv-Adas and @Solus

I am not a mod, but I consulted with the Dark Lord @Pheristroch, who is a mod.

Here is what I discerned as issues:


-Akheron basically took zero damage and trounced all over Solus’ attacks. The one illusion he fell for had no negative impact on him in the overall scheme of the duel


-Solus’ final position is terrible for any win scenario


-Akheron did not seem to respect his opponent’s attacks, regardless of rank differential


-Akheron sort of kind of god-modded in that he called the comparisons of speeds between he and Solus and defined his opponent’s ability and made himself better


-Solus took barely any damage, especially against a warrior of master rank

 

A couple other notes:
-Solus is not an assassin, yet. He is training toward that goal, but does he have the right to the full assassin skill tree as an apprentice? I do not think so


-Saying one uses an ability and then not going into full detail of it is lazy roleplaying, reference it sure, but dive into it, describe it so the mods do not have to go scouring just to understand what the attack is

 

-There is a major power disparity between master and apprentice

 

-Akheron is wielding armor and weapons he is unfamiliar with, as a warrior this is a minor issue at best, but still, something that probably should have had some effect on the fight itself

 

Positives:
-Solus’ abilities as a Sith prove him worthy of advancing to the rank of lord; however, he seems more chained to his notions of cult worship than he was before


-Akheron’s warrior powers were on full display and he really was in his element

 

As to the ruling:

-This is a Kaggath. Both parties adhered to it’s precepts

 

-This duel’s purpose is to determine if Solus is prepared to be advanced to the rank of Sith Lord

 

-Victory is overall irrelevant to the ruling on promotion

 

Therefore, given all of this, I rule that this duel is a DRAW. As it stands, Solus is outranked and has no hope of victory; however, he acted valiantly in the duel. Akheron’s two levels of rank carried him far; the errors in rules; however, prevent me from being able to award the victory. 
 

I will note, I do not think any of this was intentional on either side and I applaude the story-telling and cooperation you both put into this duel. You both worked toward the greater story goal as you posted. The power of the dark side was on full

display. Well done!

 

The decision of promotion now rests with @Karys Narat iv-Adas as Solus’ master. If you choose to promote him, Akheron has the next post. If you opt that he has not succeeded in his trials, the next post will go to Solus.

 

Well done both of you. As to how you resolve the Kaggath at this point, that is an IC choice that is up to you and as per our agreements, I have brought Inmortos to the barren plains in regard to this.

—————————————————

 

The dark side swirled, present and growing in the storm as a force maelstrom began to form, unchecked and unharnessed. It would soon destroy anything that remained in this lifeless plain.

Edited by Krath Inmortos
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A smile gripped Akheron lip as the lightsaber cut through the arm, melting metal and separating his apprentice arm from his body. He knew then that victory was more or less assured, however it didn't go entirely to plan. He found himself flung backwards, as the wave of Darkness spread and coated the area in debris, ash and snow. Catering a area already torn apart by the recent battle and many more in the past.

 

And yet Akheron stood like a great beast, immovable as a statue as ice formed about him. Transfixing him to the spot at least temporarily. Another ability of the Sith Warrior that the had to make use of. At least for now. When the storm abated, he allowed the ice to melt from the heat of He lightsaber he held. Observing the area and sensing outwards he located his apprentice. Or as had been proven, despite his misgivings....that he was a apprentice no longer. For the battle had proven he was ready.

 

The Darkness and the Fanged God had bore witness to the change, the shift in power. How he had grown. And Akheron took notice.

 

And so he did his official duty. Even despite it all he felt Pride that his apprentice had learnt this much at least and become stronger as he had wanted. It shone like a beacon in the Darkness. Followed by hints of now subsiding Rage and Wrath.

 

Approaching the fallen Shard, he outstretched the lightsaber towards him. This time not in a aggressive manner.

 

 "The battle is done. We have both done what needed to be done, and settled this, the Kaggath is ended and as such so is our feud...for now. I trust you to remember that Solus. The Darkness and the Fanged God has deemed we both live. I am impressed you managed to live his long, I underestimated you. A mistake I shall not make again. I have taken notice, you are not the Shard I once knew. you have grown, that much is certain regardless of what happened and will happen yet. You have grown stronger, enough the Darkness has taken note and empowered you beyond your previous limitations. Can you not feel the change, a shift? How you are closer to the Darkness now than ever You were. For now you see this needed to be done. You have passed your next test.

 

For this I am proud of you. As your Master. Yet need these words of caution, you may have broken another chain but in so doing you have gained another, the cycle continues. The price for your next step in ascendance, as once I and many others have paid. Such is the way of the Sith. Now...kneel, apprentice. I shall not ask again."

 

He waited, albeit cautiously. He didn't know how he would react.

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas

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

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

 

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When the saber sliced through his arm, Solus’ voice box emitted a screech of pain. Though the shard had no nerve muscles to speak of, he could feel his body thanks to his odd physiology. His electromagnetic sense, combined with the sensors built into the body, meant that the sabers cut was infinitely more painful than anything he felt before. Only the tree before had dealt such pain to the Shard. 

 

The pain sustained in the Shard’s mind as he was tossed through the air. Unable to focus on anything but the pain, Solus crashed into the ground unceremoniously, entirely different from when he had tried to dodge and avoid his master’s attacks from Force and Lightsaber alike. The Shard lifted his head from the snow and ash, and gripped at his sliced appendage. 

 

However, Solus stopped screaming. The whisperings of the Madness began to grip at the Shard’s mind. Weakened and exhausted, Solus had become susceptible to the Madness and all its cosmic malignancy. If Solus gave the slightest inkling of weakness, it would consume and devour him, ending his very being as he knew it. There wouldn’t be death. There wouldn’t be any glorious meeting with the Fanged God, nor an eternity of emptiness and loneliness. It would be as if Solus soul never existed, and instead replaced by something else. 

 

This was the price the Temple of the Spider preached. 

 

The panic that began to set in during the Shard’s realization would make anyone sympathetic. Even as Solus tried to push the whisperings from his head, he couldn’t fight the hallucinations creeping around him. The immortal flesh crawling from under the snow. The eyeballs sprouting on the debris. The spiders crawling on his spinal circuits. Solus glanced at his missing arm. From its stub, new cancerous tissue began to emerge. 

 

Control…I need control. Focus…i need to focus… Solus thought rapidly. I cannot surrender now…not yet… I can’t lose now, not yet, no no no no, not yet! Focus on something, anything, just not yet...

 

Then Solus heard his master’s words. The hatred that sprung up from just seeing him still alive was enough to push the Madness back. The hallucinations backed down, unable to beat the raw emotion that Solus conjured up in that one moment of pure hatred aimed at his master. 

 

Solus stood up from place and faced Akheron, holding his broken arm. His sensors flashed over to where his lightsaber lay, half buried in the snow and ash. For a moment, the hilt twitched. The hatred and envy of Akheron cheating death was enough to give the Shard one last second wind if he demanded it. If Solus allowed it, the Madness would take hold and do everything in its power with his body to kill Akheron. All he had to do was to call and surrender to it. 

 

Solus fell to his knees, clutching his injured arm. As much as he wanted to kill Akheron, he did not want to die yet. And beyond all that, he still wanted to ascend. To rise above what he was, and what he still was. Only then, would he find more power to control the Madness, and then, on his terms, kill everyone and bring about the end of everything. Solus turned his gaze downwards, as he awaiting what happened next. 

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Dictum sat backwards upon his legs, reeling from his seating upon the precipice of the veiled worlds as his gaze caught that of Inmortos, his scarring face bubbling a concoction of pus, saliva, and ichor with each breath he took in his agony. There was revelation and fear still in his heart as he gazed upon what Inmortos truly was, not as a person, but what power he foretold, a mixture of respect and reverence in their differences. And yet, in the same token of their conjoined souls, a grandeur of understanding that needed no words to be spoken.

 

Feeling not only the power he commanded behind his words, but the very meaning of the words themselves, Dictum heeded them with a subtle but gestured nod. His focus may have been upon the forefront of his mind's eye, but he had long felt and known of the Master and Apprentice's strife above. With Inmortos' departure, Dictum sat alone in the darkened tomb until his form found it's will to move.

 

Darkness was his home, but in the realm of Chaos, Darkness was his existence. Not only was it through which he saw the worlds around him, nor only what he felt in the currents that swirled around his form, but Darkness was his understanding and knowledge. It came naturally as the dawn of daybreak or the dusk of nightfall to any blind being, but more so for Dictum, a decree of existence that few could comprehend. And in the veiled confines of Darkness, Dictum often found his solace, his center.

 

And that was what Aaris III slowly grew to become for this Assassin of the Sith Order, a veiled world of Darkness that centered and confined his soul's understanding. Even the rigid air felt corporeal to his form as he began his ascension and his lungs found new strength in his climb. It no longer took the extensive will it once did to recover from exhaustion, nor did the weight of his form feel of burden and weight. Even as his trek led to the surface, he felt rejuvenated by its cold exterior, felt sustained by it's arid existence. Beneath the Mask of the Dead he adorned and the Robes of Flesh that encompassed him, he felt unfaltered. 

 

But this world had yet to completely accept him. Even as he climbed the stretch of stairs the led to its overlook, it whipped and battered at his form with ferocity unfathomable. And yet, he remained solid against its onslaught, the blinded Dictum sturdy as he climbed toward the spire's top. But what Dictum had failed to notice upon his climb was the wound upon which Inmortos had inflicted upon his soul, the voided crevasse he had clawed into its incorporeal form had left him a temporary weakness the world sought to exploit. And it would either end him or become a part of him in the end of his traverse.

 

Like a beacon, he loomed an attraction toward the darkness that sought him out as the veil between the Living World and the Realm of Chaos thinned. And below and above him, the undead came to call, a final test of his resolve. Spirit turned to flesh and maws ached with hunger as the undead became corporeal with vengeance, destined to either feast upon his life or be bound to his will upon these steps that led to his rise or fall. Empowered by Aaris III, Dictum would find no allies this time around. Blades in hand, he stood at the ready, and at his back, the Darkness of Chaos swirled vigorously.

 

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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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Akheron looked with no ounce of sympathy or remorse as Solus held his arm and wretched about in pain. Indeed, it enthralled him...the pain of his former opponent, and feelings that the Shard felt, like a sweet nectar yet he held back from tasting the honey. Instead he allowed hips apprentice briefly to suffer and know the full weight and price of his actions. He listened as he screamed out and his Madness threatened to consume him into the abyss.

 

He would know that his actions had consequences and this was one of them. One of many more to come.

 

As Inmortos appeared Akheron acknowledged him, before facing his wayward ward. He would do his official duty as a Sith, in the traditional manner and name Solus a apprentice no longer. He would become a Lord, for in regards to the Code and the Sith philosophy he had remained true. In so doing he knew Solus journey had just began properly, now he would take on additional responsibility, such as a apprentice of his own if he so chose and building his own base of power. Of influence. This on top of the fact his new position would bring new enemies, each more hungry than the last for his position and envious of him. Just as he was envious. In that at least, Akheron knew he would learn valuable lessons he could not teach.

 

He would go out now and seek out his own knowledge and power. And gain experience as well as hopefully mature from the arrogance of youth displayed to one more enlightened to the workings of the Fanged God and the Darkness. He would soon see.

 

He addressed Solus using his own full titles and the his apprentice own. As was traditional.

 

 "Apprentice Solus, in the ways of the Sith you have down no wrong. You have remained true to the Code and our philosophy and so as a result the Darkness has seen fit you ascend the next step. And as I said gain another chain even as you cast your current one aside. I Darth Akheron, Lord of Rage and Wrath, Lord-Captain of Clan Brasganu, House of Dragons do recognise and acknowledge your power in the Darkness.

 

You Solus The Ascended, the Dragon of Clan Brasganu  are a Apprentice no longer. I do in the traditions of the Sith and with Krath Inmortos, the Darkness and the Fanged God as witness name you with that which you shall be known by all others among the Sith. A name which will hold great weight both inside the Order and without for better or worse. That is for you to decide however. 

 

No longer shall you be known as Solus for that was your former self. Arise now and be known as...Darth Aeon a Lord of the Sith, Lord of Envy and infinite Madness. For the is what it means, to be infinite, to be endless in Madness. Never again will your name be known as Solus, a name to be known only to your most trusted allies among the Sith and the one who trained you. For you are reborn anew. The Sith are now apart of you, as you are apart of us. Now and forever. 

 

Now you are no longer bound to me. But as a Lord of the Sith certain actions will be expected of you, additional duties to aid the Order as a whole. You will be expected to train a apprentice of your own one day, to build our ranks and to build your own base of power...of influence just as we have. We care not where. And you will need to seek out knowledge and power on your own, to increase your abilities in the Darkness on your own for my duty is done. You will journey in a kind of self imposed exile, and wash away the arrogance of your youth as you gain from this the experience and knowledge to put today's events into a better perspective perhaps and arise even stronger if you do not break on the journey. To work towards the final step of ascendance. 

 

Such is our way. The way of the Sith. Rise Darth Aeon, and take your place among your brethren."

 

He allowed him to rise but continued to speak after he had arisen.

 

"Allow me to be perfectly clear and honest with you. I will be frank. You are far from out of the woods just yet, Lord Aeon for you may well have jeopardised your advancement among the Clan by conducting this series of events. And delayed your ascendance to Lord-Captain as a result thereof. For in your actions against me and in insulting your betters among the Clan, two Lord-Captain's and spouting blasphemous thoughts about matters of which you know very little to your SUPERIORS, you defy clan law. And must be punished in accordance with those laws. The punishment is left up to us both and can be slightly less, fatal if we deem it so. So Lord Inmortos? What do you think? Can this welp be salvaged? Can he yet be a Lord-Captain given time. 

 

What punishment would this merit? In our capacity what would you suggest to remedy this strange series of events that have occurred."

 

He waited for a reply. For this was not just his decision, it would not be a decision taken lightly and would carry great weight among the Clan for better or worse.

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas

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

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

 

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“Aeon…” the Shard repeated the word once, feeling it in the language of sound before letting it reverberate within his own being. It felt right, It resonated with him. His master had chosen well. How ironic that before the Kaggoth began, Solus declared that Akheron would know his true name! Solus had believed he would force Akheron his own name he had learned from the Temple. Disciple Emlesh Beosta: A disciple of Flesh Beyond Stars. But rather, Akheron had reversed the situation.

 

This turn of events even made his own hatred shake… 

 

Darth Aeon, Solus no more, rose and faced his master fully. A new found humility that had helped douse the raging feelings of hate and  compelled the Shard to speak.  

 

“I accept my title…and my punishment, in equal measure Akheron. I am delighted to see my worth fully recognized for all of our Sith brethren to see, but I also recognize that If this battle has proved one additional  thing, it is evident that my personal theology needs the same tempering that I have received from you. And while I still cannot view the necromancer's practices as sanctified in our deity’s eyes, I recognise that it was your own power that brought you back. You are not the heretic I believed you were. You are truly a Lord of Rage.”

 

“I will do what’s expected of me, not just for the sake of our clan, but also for our Empress as well. I will continue to ascend beyond my youth, and increase my abilities. Eventually, the galaxy will witness the great Final Death”

 

Aeon then turned his attention to Innmortos. While he still viewed the necromancer with hatred and disgust, Aeon recognised now was the time of temperance. His reckless rage had cost him a coveted position. He needed to stay  calm and wait for a better time to prove the necromancer’s erroneous ways. 

 

“I will accept any punishment the clan sees fit for my error in judgment on the Lord-Captains of our clan.“

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It was an culmination and climax of what wrought Dictum for Aaris III as the fierce battle began, the Lord of Chaos enveloped on all sides by the vengeance of Death and the decree of the Undead. In unison, the first wave of those who hunkered for his life struck at his form as he reeled into the netherworld veil between life and death, his form briefly splitting in all directions as he attempted to step soundly out of harm's reach. As blades clashed against shadows, Dictum felt the first of their hatred, razor-sharp edge against skin as it slide across leathered hide. Almost instantly, the dripping blood clotted against the frozen aura that fileted flesh.

 

It was but a momentary wince as the dulled pain slithered beneath his skin, the corrupted breath of Chaos coming to his call as he outstretched his hand with blade still griped, sending a beckon toward the one that had cut his form and bringing forth the undead to return it towards it's eternal rest. With the blade and fist buried in the chest of the singular opponent, it returned to the ashened dust from wince it had came and the others came to call in its defense and Dictum's sole focus fell upon their plight. His shadowed crown draped his form as the Shadows of Chaos enveloped him as his form shifted to meet them. One was doomed and five remained.

 

With a subtle spin, the twin blades became like a gaping maw enticed to feast upon undead blood as they sliced across rotted flesh, one decapitated and the other one finding his legs useless in the brief moment. And yet, legs useless did not waver their spite, and Dictum gazed upon it as it crawled toward him with an eerie glee. With a twist of the wrist, however, his blade ended its advance before the decapitated one had even fell to his eternal rest.

 

Even as he spun and defended, Dictum had begun to notice a slag in his step, a falling weakness envelope his form, a brief thought of wonderment crossing his mind. He felt the rejuvenation of Chaos at his call, but even as he remained fairly unwounded, he felt the subtle encompassing of his energy and life-force being drawn. It wasn't until he crossed his blades in defense of the blade belonging to the flesh hungered maw that snapped viciously at his face that he truly defined what sapped at his strength. For with each draw toward his opponents, they lapped at his soul with grimace as they drew upon Inmortos' wound upon Dictum's soul.

 

With a lunge backwards upon the steps that led to the Throne, Dictum distanced himself. So this was their game? This was their hunger personified? Inmortos' skill with the undead held no punches. The Sith Lord found himself at a disadvantage against these machinations of his. As he reeled from their attacks, keeping himself at a distance, he pondered his options and weighed the outcomes. Three remained, but even at these odds, Dictum could very well fall rather quickly to their gluttony, a gluttony he himself matched only in his lust for power. 

 

Chaos swirled in the recesses of his mind's eye, not only the undead against him, but the entirety of Aaris III beckoning to claim his soul as a part of it's own, a testament to the will of a Sith Master compared to his own. With the possibility of his own death looming, Dictum found a certain pleasure in the moment before him, a grin creasing across his face beneath the veiled Mask. Inmortos...

 

He who was Master of this world and of the next, the fragmented God King of the veil between life and Chaos. He had forged for Dictum a path that none had walked before, a path of enlightenment and sown Chaos. And Dictum had began this path willingly and susceptible to its influencing decree without little thought to its consequence or price. There was no regret found in this. For Dictum had found power unparalleled within, both in Chaos and in himself. A fact he was willing to testify to, and speak of for decades to come. But in this moment, with his eternal soul upon the precipice of damnation, he found the greatest of his testimonials. 

 

The stairs grew darker as his shadow solidified and lashed outwards, finding solace upon the damned souls before him and breaking their will against his own, a sudden influence of the frozen world found upon his soul as he accepted his fate. Chaos became his will, and the shackles that once bounded him to his own crumbled to dust as his soul found freedom in solitude. Where others sought personal gain, Dictum now let it wash away, melted by acceptance of a decree not his own. And before the undead could react, Dictum stood amongst them, blades finding their sheaths as each soul entered the beyond.

 

The call of the storm subsided, and Aaris III filled the void where the portion of his soul found emptiness. And as the doors of the Throne Room parted, the darkness within flickered against the breaking daylight that illuminated its innards as Dictum stepped within. His gaze briefly shifted toward the throne that was Inmortos' rightful place, but lingerie not more than a glance as he reached down and plucked his prize before he departed like a brisk breeze and the Throne Room returned to its former inglory. And below, amidst the trio of gathered Sith, Dictum reappeared.

 

"Aeon...." Dictum's voice decreed upon his arrival. "It is not temperament that is your's to learn. Your Madness is your greatest of strengths, and it is to be coveted. No. Your's to learn is that your deity goes by many names, and it's will uncomprehendable to your view alone. Chaos, Darkness, the Darkside of the Force, Death... it is all the same seeds meant to be sown and our ranks are merely the depth of our understanding of it's will." His blinded gaze shifts between the presences of Akheron and Inmortos before falling solely upon Solus. "In the end, we are all but it's blessed Harbingers, it's will our own. For we are Sith."

 

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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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As the dust of the battle settled and the storm of darkness faded into the icy bleakness that was the reality of the world, the mummified remains of Inmortos stood. Picking himself from the ground where he had been thrown, he was a silent sentinel as the spirits within thrashed within their mortal bounds. He stood; unnatural and unholy as he oversaw the lording of the petty stone. Beneath his wrappings, the solidified face cracked in an unseen smile. Time would tell if this young vain thing had a place amongst the Sith, much less the true masters of darkness; and time, was a fickle

mistress. He stood, watching, for as much as his natural time had elapsed, he had the reserves of eternity at his command. The more pressing matter, it would seem, was one of immediacy. The cravings of young Sith were bent on conquest. That carnage would feed the eternal

void from which Inmortos was born and bound. And so, as the butcher directed the stone to him for a verdict, the consciousnesses within the god-king whirled in possibility.

 

Slowly, as if creaking in pain and suffering, Inmortos lurched forward, a single finger waggling the air as he regarded the three Sith before him, each bound to him, their fates intertwined with his own. This cult had its uses yet and the dragon of myth would still serve to consume the galaxy.

 

The voices of Inmortos spoke, carrying in the air, projected from a thousand angled and directions as they warped and warbled in a destructively seductive cacophony.  ”No one will follow a captain without a ship.”

 

”No knee will bend to a lord without a holding.”

 

”This clan,” he gestured toward Akheron and then pounded a fist to his own chest as plumes of dust billowed from the impact, “survived when the rest of the Sith fell. We continue the fight even now.”

 

”And yet,” the necromancer turned his icy burning gaze to Dictum, “we have another here.”

 

“One who was bound in the times of glory and the fall. It is not right that we discuss family business in such company. And so, I shall pass my judgement upon the Shard when it is but it and I, alone; when each bound to our cause and,” he paused eying both Dictum and Solus, “any outsiders are removed.”

 

In the distance the towering ziggurat of Inmortos’ throne loomed in the shadows of the dissipating storm. The remainder of his academy for gifted individuals surrounding it, laid out in chaotic order, like grown chicks bound unnaturally to a mother hen. It sat a compact gathering of mazed streets and frozen catacombs, an enigma against the desolation of a world sacrificed to the darkness, a holding flayed and laid bare as a burnt offering before the avatar of darkness, an avatar Inmortos believed was his right to possess.

 

“And so, Lord Akheron, it falls to us.” The chaotic hilt of Inmortos slid into the mummy’s hand. Whispers of the spirits trapped within both his body and blade hissing in gleeful agony at the temptation of death. “One of your crew has blasphemed the name of the Fanged-God and for this a sacrifice is demanded, penance paid in blood. Another stands here as an equal, and yet remains unbound to the welfare of the brotherhood.”

 

”Still, without his sacrifice, I would not stand here now. Whet say you, a master of cloth and a master of iron until they prove themselves worthy? Or shall we cut them down where they stand?”

 

 

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Aeon bowed at the words of Dictum. 

 

How do I forget that despite your blindness, you see better than myself? First your words on my master, and now this! Fellow child of the Dark, your words once again ring true in my very Shard! How fortunate we are to have you amongst us.” 

 

Then the necromancer spoke. Despite his hatred he was currently experiencing towards the undead creature, Aeon kept his composure. The idea of speaking privately with the thing did not appeal to him, but he was still on thin ice, and needed to practice some restraint still until a more opportune moment came to pass. 

 

“Hmm, your idea has merit, oh great one!” Solus added, indicating towards Dictum. “The clan always needs more members of his caliber. Perhaps we can do an induction ceremony for Dictum at your ship, much like how we inducted you on Akheron’s ship. Of course…”

 

Aeon paused and raised his still working hand to his face, as if in thought. 

 

“I don’t think we have witnessed your ship, have we necromancer? But you must surely have one, or is your title of Lord-Captain just a formality? Unless of course you think this planet is your ship? If so, then I'd love to see this fine, pale vessel in action against the Alliance! Haha!”

 

Aeon laughed at his own joke, an effort to simultaneously lighten the situation as well as poke some fun at the necromancer. 

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Akheron listened and considered the new necromancer's words very closely. Much of what he said was true, where others fell they had outlived them...even despite the temporary setback of Death. And yet Death could not stop his return or the clan's designs. Their power and devotion had allowed them to endure and strike down all who would not listen.

 

He knew it was also true that without a ship Inmortos was correct in that few Linnorms would follow him and it would be more difficult to acquire recruits willing or unwilling to crew any ships they did get. Ships were a resource they currently lacked, save his own. Something he would soon change, they just needed to find the right targets. It was also true that without a holding, a power base Darth Aeon's new title was without much merit save his passing of the trial.

 

He needed to now build his legacy and so prove his true worth to the clan and the Fanged God...the Darkness. He nodded at Inmortos as he spoke that other matters should not be discussed with a outsider. Namely their newest ally in Dictum. And then he considered his suggestion of extending a invitation and a solution to the predicament they faced currently.

 

He found he agreed. Dictum had proven worthy of invitation and more than proved his loyalty to the clan despite their short time together. He was a prize worth the keeping. 

 

 

He spoke.

 

"Unfortunately his ship was lost like most of the rest of the clan at the Battle of Nar Shadda, Lord Aeon. But rest assured we are seeing to replace our losses. We just need to find the right targets, so in the interests of the clan keep an eye out for anything we can use in that regard. As so far as Lord Ok Ragnar here, I agree he would make a worthy addition. He has already proven his worth this far. 

 

But the choice is his alone, he must make the choice willingly. As a Sith it is his right to decline or accept as he so wishes. But that is not to say should he decline that are ways in which he could still serve the Clan's purposes and the Sith. For allies are still sorely needed in this time of building and silence with which to extend our reach and acquire much needed resources. Regardless I have a offer for all of you, a proposal from a Warrior of the Sith.

 

There is a ancient Sith ritual I am aware of. One which would bind us, our souls, in many ways similar or the ritual of the Baptism of Blood and yet not the same. For it would bind us spiritually and allow to share the pain of our wounds and feed our power...strengthening our connection to the Darkness and each other. One usually reserved for Warrior's such as myself but on rare occasions such as ours has been known to include Assassins and Sorcerers inside of the Sith such as you before me. It is considered a great honour and privilege to undertake this...endeavour. For it is my way of showing kinship and recognition. To show my respect for those before me, despite our differences. For it is clear to me despite our conflicts we are stronger together than we ever are apart. Providing the old adage correct that sometimes there is strength to be found in numbers.

 

What say each of you to this..most generous proposal I offer? A offer only made once, a way to disrupt anyone who would cross us."

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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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The mummy-shrouded being that held the fractured soul of Inmortos and a thousand other souls stood silently. He canted his head as he heard the Shard’s mechanized words. He was not wrong, entirely. Aaris III had been sacrificed in a show of loyalty to a fallen Sith Lord, and it would remain a lifeless husk for all eternity.

 

Before he could respond, the Shard’s former master responded. A ship full of lives had come indeed been sacrificed in the foolhardy venture of the Sith above the Alliance stronghold world. It had been glorious if not disastrous for the Sith Empire; just as the prophecies had foretold. Akheron was wrong in one point; however, Inmortos did have a ship, crewed by the very linnorms that had been cut down over Nar Shadaa; well, what was left of them at least. Their souls.

 

“Such a ritual, Lord Akheron, I fear may destroy the minds of my brothers, for to share my wounds would be to share in the deaths of the legions that now flow through my veins like blood. The ritual

to return you required much more than drawing you from beyond.”

 

Turning his gaze to the shattered form of the Shard, Inmortos would have been smiling if it could have been seen. As it was, his voice contained a judgmental stereophonic laughter.

 

”But you are wrong Lord Akheron, for to be a Lord-Captain one must have a ship. Behold.”

 

Inmortos raised his arms toward the distant citadel, her academies and zigguraut, underground chambers and more. The ancient pyramid of a long forgotten people ringed in soulfrost that rivaled durasteel, crewed by the souls of the damned, and powered by the very veil between life and death. From where they stood, Inmortos could feel the earth rumble beneath his feet. Great cracks permeated the frostbound planet as great ancient thrusters birthed the necromancer’s undead vessel from the death-bound world.

 

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”Perhaps together we can reclaim my soul and rebuild our fleet.”

 

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Dictum nodded at Aeon's bowing, a sentiment that the young Lord was beginning to see through his madness and into the reality it warped callously. While madness was a fickle ally of the Darkness, an empowering aspect of one's nature, it could easily subdue just as it would embolden. Similar to Dictum's own sight. 

 

"When one lives in the Dark, one knows the Dark." Dictum replied. "It is a common misconception that the Miraluka lineage I descend from have a imbued sight in our blindness, but it's not entirely truth. Nor is it similar to any whom have lost the gift of sight only to find it again in the Force. For our sight is through evolution, designed specifically for our survival upon our lost homeworld." But neither was Dictum completely Miralukian, only a hybrid who managed to survive birth and found his bones brittle and meek because of this. "Think of seeing eternal darkness, with only the most subtle of shifts between the veil of Darkness and the shadows contained within. Then add in emotions, intent, sounds, smell, and perhaps you gain an understanding. But the truth of our ability to see isn't visual, but in that understanding alone. Our minds comprehend reality."

 

Just as he finished speaking to Aeon, both Inmortos and Akheron interjected, causing Dictum to feel a mixture of praise and threat as his grotesque face took on a stern form beneath the Mask of Death, and for a brief moment his hands fell to his sides where his blades nestled quietly. If their choice came to attempting to rid themselves of him, he knew the outcome would be dire, especially for him. But he would not go quietly, a quality that Ragnus knew all too well of his son. And yet, offers were made and Dictum relaxed his stance casually but cautiously. 

 

"Make no mistake here..." Dictum began as Akheron finished speaking, his tone stern and yet equal as he spoke his humbled truth. "I made no resistance to bonding with you, God-King Inmortos, as it proves to be beneficial to us both. But to slay me would prove problematic and wasted efforts. For my soul is yours, both in life, and in death, but my conscious is still my own and is the most valuable tool you have at your disposal."

 

His gaze shifts to Akheron.

 

"I have never been a religious being, nor do I plan on being one. Chaos bore me into this world for the sole purpose of sowing it's seeds, and Chaos resides in me. There can be no other. For Chaos is the progression of Life and the path to Death, it's lessons taught daily to all who breath and it's knowledge retained by those who do not. When I entered it's realm to bring you back, it chose to join with me, and from it, I now understand my purpose, a labor I have sought since I began this path of the Sith...." 

 

"For your first offer, I must decline."

 

Letting his words sink in, Dictum witnessed the truth of Inmortos' world as it came to life. While he had considered it's possibility, the truth was highly unlikely. And yet, as the area where they stood rose toward the heavens, Dictum nodded in agreement. He may not have been a religious zealot, but he was logical and hungered endlessly for power forged within himself alone. He may not covet what the others possessed, but he did covet what he held within his own soul and the path to attain it. And as Inmortos' proposed his own to the others, Dictum finished.

 

"As to your second offer..." This time Dictum's blinded gaze fell upon both Akheron and Inmortos, the hidden stern form subsiding. "As I said in the beginning, our paths crossed at Helvault for a reason, and here we stand. Through the two of you, I have grown, surpassed both my Father and my former Master, and found my purpose in Chaos. And yet, our time together has yet to reach a conclusion. Until then, you both have my blades and my skill..." His gaze focuses on Inmortos alone. "And my soul."

 

With a nod, Dictum agrees. "We are all but one. Let us bind ourselves as one and finish what began here beneath our feet with the Baptism of Blood."

 

His gaze shifts to Inmortos. "Let us bind ourselves not as Sith, but as brothers."

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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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When the ground shook, and the Ziggurat began to rise, Aeon felt a smote of the emotion of awe. To see the massive thing rise up on power solely of the darkside was wondrous to say the least. Where Akheron had displayed power in the use of the blade, here Innmortos demonstrated power in the use of the Force. 

 

The feeling of awe was quickly swallowed by feelings of envy and despisement. What had this necromancer done to deserve a planet to end on a whim, and now a floating citadel? 

 

“I stand humbly corrected, man of… er, Lord-Captain” Solus bowed gently to Innmortos, barely correcting himself before giving the necromancer another sneering title. It was as much as he could handle not giving into his own envy at this time. 

 

Aeon listened to Dictum’s words and, while he was initially disappointed that the assassin refused membership in the clan, he saw a different opportunity arise. 

 

“I would be honored to be bound alongside you, for your wisdom has already given me fruit Assassin. And if I may add…

 

Aeon held up his destroyed hand again. This time however he seemed to realize what he was doing, for he had to pause and look at it before lowering it to continue talking. 

 

“As a being who represents the Temple of the Spider, they would always be interested in helping you along your path in exchange for whatever wisdom you may be able to provide. I know we both found intelligence during our short time together with the Master of Hides, and having witnessed the Temple, I can assure you there is much more to be discovered.” 
 

Aeon looked where he last saw his lightsaber in the ground, exposed to the rapidly cooling air. Raising his good hand, the blade shook in the snow before flying towards Aeon's open hand. 

 

"Might I suggest, gentlemen, that we get someplace a bit more...habitable? While I am impressed with your power Necromancer, I doubt everyone here will appreciate the dropping temperatures and thinning air. Even your powers I'd imagine has its limits to providing life for the living, and I wouldn't mind fixing myself. "

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Akheron listened, and as he did there was truth to be found in his words. Without his soul restored and thus his full power in the Darkness, to try such a ritual upon Inmortos in his current state would be a fool's errand. However there were still ways in which he could assist for his part, from the veil beyond Death where he swayed somewhere between the living and the dead. 

 

The Sith Warrior noted Dictum and his refusal of joining the Clan. He understood and accepted his answer, for were other ways to serve the Fanged God and the Darkness. As a Sith. And yet not all was a loss, for he accepted Akheron's second proposal, of a binding ritual. And Solus, now Darth Aeon likewise accepted, now he had called down and accepted the truth.

 

Akheron was impressed by Dictum's wisdom despite his youth. He would grow to be a powerful Sith, of that he was certain. Just like the rest before him. Together they would defeat the Enemy in the Light, Life itself and bring only Chaos and the Wrath of the Fanged God, The Spider and the Damned.

 

He looked on on confusion at first as Inmortos spoke. And then the very room within which he stood started to shake, as the whole citadel rose from the ground...as the fortress took flight. Akheron was again impressed. Both with Inmortos abilities even in his current state and with the power of the Darkness at work.

 

Akheron spoke to all.

 

 "You continue to impress Krath Inmortos. You certainly are full of surprises, and many more secrets it seems as always. I can see why even Death fears you.

 

I accept your decision Lord Ok Ragnar. Both of them. Even if you did not accept the Clan as we may have wanted, there are ways in which we may still assist each other, for just as you said we were brought together for a reason. And I would honoured to call you a brother, bound by more than blood. However as Lord Inmortos has stated, I agree. In his current state we would not survive the ordeal. Perhaps it best for now we wait, in order to do it as intended. Until he is restored. For it would take a huge toll upon all. I will research into it more as we traverse the star lanes and see what more can be found about the ritual to help remedy the situation. For I have have never undertaken it before myself. It is dangerous, so care must be for less we lose ourselves to Chaos just as we have emerged from it.

 

 For now let us do as Lord Aeon suggests and move below. I also need time to recover from my previous bout, and make necessary repairs."

 

 

 

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas
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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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