Korriban

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

*Ash and dust blow across the blackened landscape that is the surface of Korriban. Slowly decaying ruins of what once stood as the homeworld of the ancient Sith Lords, now play host to tiny retched creatures that burrow into the heart of the structures. The spirits of dark lords wander the world in search of willing vessels to inhabit, in hopes of one day returning to their former glory. Now the massive necropolis stands as a symbol to the galaxy of the price paid for serving the will of the dark side.*

 

*The life essence of the Sith warrior DMD wanders the surface, patiently waiting for the arrival of his apprentice, Khaos Anarch.*

 

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Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and as natural as that fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. -Francis Bacon

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

When last I visited this place, I found a Sith holocron that taught me of the ancient art of the Sith sword. After I forged one for myself I left something behind that will prove most useful to you, Khaos. My former master Jgod gave me her lightsaber long ago, while I was still an apprentice. It holds great power and can be used as an Achilles' heal against her. Your task is to simply go down into the valley of Shadows and retreive it. I warn you to stay alert, there are things down there that guard the valley. This is the first of the three trials that will ready you for your ascension towards being a Sith Lord. Go forth and face the darkness, my apprentice.

 

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Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and as natural as that fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. -Francis Bacon

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

*DMD watched his apprentice descend into the valley of Shadows. He could sense that he was unsure of what lay ahead waiting for him. He was also curious about what his next trial would be. DMD sensed his excitement when he found the discarded lightsaber and that Khaos was surpised with the ease that his task had been completed. DMD poured multiple streams of his darkside energy into the valley, stirring up its' guardians.*

 

*The ground began to stir with movement, as shadowed figures rose up from the earth. Long dead Sith warriors who made their last stand fighting over the fate of a holocron that was no longer there, shook dust off their withered(sp) bodies. They stood sniffing the air, and found a familiar scent. The scent of life. Something they no longer had and what they had grown to hate in death. The group of dead warriors marched towards the source of that hatred, Khaos Anarch.*

 

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Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and as natural as that fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. -Francis Bacon

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

You have done well my apprentice. Though you didn't come through it completely unharmed. It would seem that one of their Sith swords sliced you across the back of your arm. I I were you , I would treat it as an infected cut. Sith swords sometime have added surprises such as alchemically altered blades laced with deadly toxins.

 

I will give you time to tend to that, but for now I need you to listen. Your next task is to recover a Sith Amulet from deep inside one of the tombs under the old temple. There is a spirit that roams those catacombs. A very dangerous one. It is the spirit of a Sith Lord who turned cannibalistic because he believed that by eating his enemy, he could take their power and become stronger. All who have gone before have died horrible deaths, but I know you will not fail me Khaos Anarch. That is why I am going to tell you how to beat it. The amulet I spoke of has the power to destroy it. And what ever you do don't stay in one spot for two long. I have heard that he can possess you, then make you do things to injure yourself. When you are ready I will guide you to the site.

 

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Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and as natural as that fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. -Francis Bacon

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

*Khaos can't actually see his master, but he can kind of feel a tug, guiding him in the desired direction. The blackened landscape stands as a reminder of the centuries of constant battle and bloodshed. The ground is fry and unfertile. Khaos Anarch's boots crush the hollowed topsoil, leaving a trail of dark footprints in the dirt.*

 

*The journey soon led them towards the ruins of an old temple. Then a short climb up a steep hill which over looked the deserted grounds that would have served as a courtyard. In the middle of this courtyard lay a deep hole or so it appeared until Khaos moved closer to inspect it. The hole turned out to be a passage leading to the underground caverns that branch out beneath the old temple. A foul breeze blows through the subterranean tunnels and finds the nostrils of the Sith apprentice.*

 

Khaos, you second trial awaits you. Remember the warnings I gave you earlier. The amulet can destroy the Sith spirit. Go forth and embrace your destiny.

 

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Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and as natural as that fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. -Francis Bacon

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

OOC:Feel free to finish this scenario however you see fit Khaos. I should have posted earlier that I wanted you to improvise on your battle with the Sith Spirit. I have faith in your RP ability to come up with something worthy of your kind of flare. Good luck and I look foward to seeing what your creative mind can come up with.

 

IC:* DMD's essence could be felt around the mouth of the opening leading in to the underground tunnels. He felt desperation emmitting from his apprentice as he searched blindly for an object that he wasn't even sure was really there. There was alot of doubt in Khaos' mind. For a split second DMD could feel his apprentice contemplating if whether or not the amulet really existed and if he were sent down there to die. Those feelings of dread and uncertainty quickly disaapeared as he got closer to his objective. DMD could sense the emmense power down there. And then he felt the power meld with Khaos. Then death's foul stench filled the tunnels. A raging evil awoke from dormancy and raced hungrily toward the scent of life. Khaos Anarch turned around just in time to see it emerge from the shadows of the tunnel from which he came, blocking his path.*

 

 

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Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and as natural as that fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. -Francis Bacon

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

*DMD could sense his apprentice before he saw him emerge from the horrors of the tunnels. His Sith attire was now torn, blood trailing from his forehead down the side of his face, showing off the signs of his recent battle.*

 

*DMD allowed himself a mental smile. Khaos Anarch was turning out to be everything he wanted him to be. He was eager and capable. To DMD he was clay. A substance he could mold into the type of being worthy of the title Sith. And with every trial he passes his strength greatly increases. Two trials down and one to go. This last trial would be the hardest of all.*

 

You have done well, Khaos Anarch. Your next and final trial will take place in due time, but for now, I want you to rest. You will need your strength, all of it and more for what lies ahead of you. Go and meditate. Tomorrow, I will explain everything to you.

 

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Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and as natural as that fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. -Francis Bacon

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

Khaos Anarch. It is time.

 

*DMD called for his apprentice with purpose and authority. Khaos opened his eyes and listened to his masters words.*

 

Before you were my apprentice, I was the an apprentice myself. An apprentice to the Sith Empress Jgod. We were a student and teacher who had crossed a line into something that was not Sith-like in nature. We had feelings for one another, that ran deeper than they should have. Those feelings seperated us but we always found our way back to each other. The last time that happened we landed here. On this very planet ancient Sith spirits appeared before us and placed marks upon our foreheads. These marks turned out to be marks of destiny. Those who bare them would be destined to rule over the Sith. Jgod was chosen to succeed the former Emperor, Heretic, after he became one with the dark side. Though upon her return she was was forced to duel a young Sith Lord named Barohm Zar, who was acting as the new Emperor. She beat him and won his loyalty. She accepted the title reluctantly and began her reign as Empress.

 

Then the whispers of weakness echoed through the temple. Rumors that Jgod ws not strong nough to rule began to circulate and eventually found he ears as well. Seeking to squash such assumptions she dueled me for my trials to be a Sith Lord. What didn't know wa sthat her intent was to make an example out of me by killing me. To show that old ties can be severed just as easily as my neck. I had never seen her act the way she did that day, but I gave as well as I got. And when I thought she was down for the count, she clouded everyones mind who were witnesses to our battle. She created the illusion that she had beheaded me with her lightsaber, while in reality she rendered me unconscious. The Sith accepted her hoax and went on with their lives.

 

My punishment for sharing the mark and loving an Empress, was to be locked away in the bowels of the Sith temple. She said it was the only way to keep me safe and to avoid the inevitable. At first I thought she meant to protect me from plots to kill me to get to her, then after a period of time the answer became clear. She was protecting me from her. Our marks of destiny meant that one day we would have to duel to the death for leadership of the Sith.

 

Now I hear rumors of her defection to the Jedi and the Lord Ar-Pharazon being named Emperor. I am willing to rot in exile from my Empress to save her heartache, but I refuse to let someone like Lord Ar-Pharazon rule over the Sith when I am supposed to be next in line. It is my right and my destiny. And if Jgod has strayed, it is my duty to retun her to her true calling as she once did for me. Your job, my apprentice and your final trial is to release me from the dungeons below the temple. This is not as easy as it sounds. There are armed guards and whatever else the Sith have roaming the corridors. Also I have a small request. During my battle with the Empress, my sword became inbeddded in a slab of duracrete. I would appreciate it if you could free it and bring sword when you come for me. Do you accept this task?

 

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Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and as natural as that fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. -Francis Bacon

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

Leave immediately, my apprentice. It would seem that my presence has been discovered and a crowd is forming. In my weakened state I don't think I can handle so many by myself. When you arrive, remain hidden until you see me signal you. Remember, there are powerful Sith about, so don't do anything foolish. I await your arrival.

 

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Men fear death as children fear to go into the dark; and as natural as that fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other. -Francis Bacon

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

I feel it to, Lord Torment. This place is alive with the past. The spirits of old roam freely here whispering promises of power to those foolish enough to believe them. So much untapped knowledge can be found here. In time, Byss will become the beacon of dark side energy that it used to be.

 

*DMD drops his hooded cloak and takes off his shirt. When he is done, he has nothing on but his boots and trousers. His bare shest and back, marked with scars from previous battles. A tapestry of pain. He unsheathes his Sith sword and stabs it onto the ground.*

 

There is only one way that I know of to tap such raw power. We must open ourselves to the dark side, with a duel. There is a catch.......we must fight to kill one another. The Sith spirits that exist here cannot be fooled with a mock duel. We have to push each other to the brink of death. If you do kill me, I want you to lay down in my blood and absorb all of my power. Do not let the ground soak it up. To do so would condemn me to eternity on this rock as a wandering spirit. I will do the same for you, if it comes down to that, Lord Torment. Do you accept my terms and my challenge?

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

*DMD blocked one side of Torment's double-bladed lightsaber, then quickly moved out of the way of the other end of the deadly weapon. DMD retaliated with force push, that was barely countered by Torment.*

 

Torment. You have to do better than that. I told you we have to fight like we are trying to kill each other. Shall we try this again?

 

*DMD sprung forward, into the air toward Torment. Before reaching his opponent he spun in the air, then landed in a crouching position. Barely avoiding the swing of Torments lightsaber above his head. DMD swung his sword low, aiming for the legs of the Sith. Torment blocked with the opposite end of his double-bladed lightsaber. DMD saw his opening and swept Torment's feet from under him. DMD jumped into the air with his sword angled down, ready to impale Torement on the ground below.*

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

*DMD could see the determination in the eyes of Torment. But there was something else there. Something more primal. The battle was beginning to awaken a bloodlust in Torment. behind his mask, DMD began to smile.....darkly. He released the pressure of his sword against Torment's double-bladed lightsaber. Torment was caught off balance and stumbled forward. DMD executed a backflip, that caught Torment under his chin and knocking him to the ground a second time. Torment rose slowly, rubbing his jaw and laughing. Out of the corner of his eye, DMD saw a spirit watching. Behind Torment stood two more. After he saw them he could hear them. Their hollowed voices whispered the same thing in his ears as they were telling Torment.*

 

Killllll himmmmm..................

 

I am glad that amused you. But I am afraid the time for games is over.

 

*DMD summoned the dust and ash that made up the soil on Korriban, into a small dust storm. The winds picked up the small rock that lay just beneath surface hurling them aorund with deadly force. With a gesture, he sent the to his waiting opponent. The dust and ash was so thick, that DMD could only see the crimson blades of Torments lightsaber as the storm consumed him.*

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

Kill him, Darth Mortis Diabolus. He is not worthy. We demand his life in exchange for the power you seek. Sacrifice him to ussssssssssssssssssss........

 

*When DMD regained control of himself, it was if a dark viel had benn lifted from over his eyes. He saw Torment on the ground beneath him. He had no memory of how it happened, but knew he was responsible. DMD's Sith sword dripped with the blood of his Sith brother. In his mind echoed the the howls from the long dead Sith spirits that roamed the Korriban. He began to wonder if opening himself up fully in such a place was a good desicion.*

 

Torment, I know you can hear me. We have to leave this place.

 

*DMD leans down and graps his Sith brother's hooded cloak and drags him him across the scorched earth towards their shuttle. Midway to the shuttle the Spirits sensed the treachery in DMD and decided they would take both Sith lords as their sacrifices. DMD Was forced to the ground while invisible entities clawed at his back and/or any exposed part of his body.*

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

I warn you, spirits of old. Leave us be or I will be forced to send you on your way to oblivion.

 

HAHAHA! You wishhhhhhhhh. You are nothing, Lord Diabolus. Our lives have been made legends. Our powers have been sought out by many like yourself who come to Korriban seeking to rape it of any and all it's secrets. How dare you threaten us. You only carry the title of Sith. But we........are the Sith. Without us you would have no knowledge of who and what you claim to be. Your insults will not go unpunished. You and the other one will sacrifice your essences to us so that we may live again in your bodies. Then we will teach the galaxy the true nature of a Sith.

 

*DMD held on to Torment's cloak as the spirits raked his flesh with their claws. Blood spilled into the black earth beneath him. The pain became to much for DMD and his hold on his fellow Sith was released. The spirits pounced on him pushing his body and face into the soil.Invisible hands restrained him from rising to his knees, but didn't keep him from crawling to his shuttle. He managed to turn his head to look behind him and saw Torment recieving similar punishment. In a desperate attempt to kill the spirits DMD fed off his pain and rage, breaking free of their hold on him. A spirit latched on to him, with it's claws buried in his flesh. It reached in further grabing his heart and squeezing it from with in his chest. DMD's eye's turned pupiless white, as the pain over took him. As he began to black out his mind became clear and a voice instructed him on what to do. He mmade his body numb, ignoring the death that was more of a reality than ever before. He opened himself mentally to the darkside and found strength. The spirits cease their attack, as the air crackles with energy. They sense something has changed. The spirits begin to shriek and howl while they try to escape from an unseen pull toward the Sith lord. The first one enters his body causing DMD to react like he had been struck. Then a second, followed by a third. The process continued until all of them had been absorbed into him. With each spirit he absorbed his powers are magnified. When the process is done he watches his movements from outside of himself. He force lifts Torment into the the shuttle then enters it himself. The shuttle takes off into space. On board, DMD passes out in the pilots chair.*

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

*DMD uses the ships advanced long range sensers to find an area that is devoid of life. That shouldn't be hard since Korriban is a Sith burial planet, but there are remnents of the once powerful sith, lurking out there. He could feel their power through the force. After finding a suitable landing spot, DMD's shuttle lands on the soft black earth that makes up the surface of the Sith homeworld.*

 

We should be safe here. It is time to search for your weapon. Reach out with your feelings, my apprentice. Find the echo of something sinister and evil, then lock on to it. Death resonates out into space and time for ever. All you have to do is find one then search the ground for the instrument of their destruction.

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

DMD's fighter made it to Korriban in record time. He set his landing zone as one previously used by him at an earlier time. As he got closer to the surface his ship chimed, signaling abnormal reading. The reading were something that should not be found on the world of the dead. The heat sinatures of living beings walking the surface. The force triggered a flahback in his mind dealing with a Sith woman, among other seated around a table discussing plans with the Darth Heretic, the emperor of that period of Sith history. When he was finally released form his vision he knew who one the beings was. A Sith lord named Tarrian. His memory didn't reveal if there was bad blood between them, but he decided not to take the chance.

 

He flew in low above their heads, then pulled his ship up into a vertical climb. He keyed the autopilot to land as previously designated then ejected high above the being below him. His blood red cape opened up around him, like crimsom wings. He used his influence of the force on the winds to adjust the speed and descent of his fall. DMD threw his War Staff into the soft black ash that made up the surface of Korriban, a few inches from where he was about to land. He landed softly, stirring a small amount of ash in his wake, as his cape settled onto the ground. He walks over, retreiving his staff from the earth, now standing a few feet in front of the two Sith women he had recently startled.

 

"Tarrian! Do you remember me? Because I remember you. It has been a long time, hasn't it? I see the years have been kind to you. It's a shame I cannot same the same for myself. Who is your friend?"

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

DMD stood aside, waiting patiently while Tarrian dealt with the numerous distractions that kept them from having their private discussion. From the look of things, it would seem that a challenge had been issued, though he couldn't tell for sure. There was a surge in dark side energy as the number of Sith on Korriban grew. He paced in the background while matters were being discussed, tapping the hilt of his Sith sword. His glowing green eyes were accented by the dark landscape and murky cloud formations in the skies above.

 

And then it happened. A fight between Tarrian and whomever this male Sith was. He expected as much. It was the Sith way. It seemed that her adversary had caught her off guard. He drove his was staff into the ground deep enough for it to stand on it's own. He walked over to where the conflict was transpiring, smiling beneath his mask. He summoned the power of the force on the aggresser. DMD was closing an artery that runs along the base of the aggresser's skull, slowing the flow of blood into the brain, cutting off vital oxygen. Its' affects could be seen immediately.

 

"I believe the lady was talking to me, before you so rudely interrupted?"

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

The acid began dissolving DMD's mask. It wasted no time finding his newly regenerated face. The Sith fell to his knees, unsheathing his Sith sword. He had unconsciously released his hold over Tarrian's former apprentice. He brought the sharp edge up to his face were the acid had ate through his dermis an epidermis. He scraped the blade along the bone of his face, peeling the acid ridden flesh off. To ensure the progression of the acid had been halted, he even cut away at the muscle tissue that lay underneath the dissolving skin. Pink bone was now visible where part of his face used to be. He rose to his feet, bracing himself upon a nearby boulder. He kicked what was left of his mask over to the man who had spat acid upon him. DMD summoned his strength into a powerful force push sending the man tumbling backwards over the rough, rocky terrain.

 

"Acid? That's new. If I were you I would stay down. I didn't come here with the intent of sending someone to the abyss, but if you force my hand I will devour your soul and send you to the other side screaming in agony. Your suffering will be legendary."

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

DMD watched Tarrian's former apprentice gather his assortment of weapons from the ground, while listening to him discuss his journey through hell. The wound to his face was causing him much discomfort. The ash that covered Korriban, was carried on the wind and into his facial structure. He reached down and scooped up a handful of ash that was soaked with his blood. He filled in the gaping hole that was now his face, with the bloody mud patty he had formed in the palms of his hands. He did not shy away from his pain.

 

In his mind he saw himself killing the young Sith, but decided that he did not know enough about his enemy to follow. His opponent's movements seemed kind of irregular. He looked like a man, but moved like something else. When he moved, DMD could have sworm that he heard gyroes. Over the years, he had became a master of energy absorbtion. Progressing from artificial energy such as ionic or electric, to the very life force out of another being. If only Nahstaa only knew how close he came to falling victom to such a power.

 

"Tarrian, I am ready to continue our conversation whenever you are ready? I think your bothersome distraction has learned his lesson for now."

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

A woman's touch. A feeling that seemed somewhat foreign to him. It had been so long since he had felt such a thing. He leaned in closer to her touch, savoring it for as long as it would last. His mind drifted back to his empress, his former master Brook aka Jgod. The only woman he ever gave his heart to. It was a forbidden love. And he paid the price gladly, with his soul. His mind shifted back to the present.

 

He remembered where he was and who he was with. The females among the Sith were some of the most vicious killers in the galaxy and this one was no exception. Her caring was overshadowed by the lingering feelin gthat she could possibly have an hidden motives. It was the nature of the Sith to plot against the older ones to gain power.

 

He placed his hand over hers to hold his bacta patch in place. She removed her hand quickly as though she were repulsed by his disfigured face. He turned so that she was facing his unharmed side to talk to her He listened to her words fully before responding.

 

"What is it exactly do you want me to do, Lady Tarrian? I was not very popular among the Sith of my time and from the looks of things, the trend has continued. Besides, I have never met the self proclaimed lord over the current Sith. I am sure he would feel threatened if he returns to find one of the old ones roaming his temple corridors. But I sympathize with you. As it stands, you are the acting Empress of the Sith and I am willing to serve you in any way that I can. Just tell me what you want me to do?"

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

Keep the Sith from breaking off and going there own way

 

Something DMD knew all about. He was one of the first to leave the order to stake his own claim in the galaxy, with Byss. Ambition is a powerful motivator. It is also one of the forces that drives the Sith mentality.

 

As he looked out one of the viewports on Tarrian's ship, he watched the other Sith interact with each other. The ways of these new Sith were far from the way it was when he was an apprentice. There wasn't a whole lot of rivalry. He turned back to Tarrian, as she was waiting for his answer, and spoke.

 

"Two questions for you, boss lady. When do we leave and when do you want me to get started?"

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

DMD stood up and walked down the boarding ramp. With his out stretched hand, he summoned his Sith War Staff to himself. He turned his head, looking back over his right shoulder, at Tarrian.

 

"I am ready whenever you are."

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

"I trust your judgement, Tarrian. Leaving the Sith throne unattended for to long, isn't wise. Your former apprentice can take his trials wherever you permit it to happen, Empress."

 

DMD pressed a button on his metallic wristband, calling his fighter to his current location. The HLAF-500 flew in low across the dark plains, stirring up clouds of ash as it stopped and began to hover a few feet away from it's pilot.

 

"If we are going to Cardia, I will follow your lead."

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

DMD hopped into the cockpit of his fighter. Not waitng for Lady Tarrian to depart, he decided to go ahead and wait for her at the temple.

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

A Lambda-class shuttle exits hyperspace above the planet Korriban. It had many years since DMD had set foot on the homeworld of the Sith empire of old. The planet was treacherous. A place of mystery and discovery together.

 

Looking through the viewport as the shuttle made its'descent, he could see the thick cloud cover give way to a blackened landscape. Their flight path took them over a vast moutain range, that seemed to stretch halfway across the northern hemisphere of their search area. They flew their present course for another hour or two, leaving the Sith time to adjust and make course corrections as needed.

 

The holocron he had in his position gave clues to their destination, but no specifics. "A temple that sits at the mouth of a valley, that flows to the ocean's door." The Gatekkeper said.

He knew that he was being tested. No true Sith would give away their knowledge and power, without proving that the seeker is worthy of the prize.

 

The mountains gave way to the ocean. The water were darker than he remembered. The skies offered dim lighting, because during the current planetary cycle, only the furthest moon was visible. The light was not neccessary. He knew of only one location that came close to what had been described in the holocron. The shuttle headed east across the body of water, leaving a fine mist in it's wake. On the horizon, a land structure was visible. As they drew closer, DMD made his way to the cockpit where Masterson was piloting. Masterson applified the image, while performing a longe range sensor sweep. The data collected confirmed the area as a 94 percent match to the location described.

 

As the shuttle neared the valley entrance, warning alarms sounded as new information was collected from the forward sensors. The valley was only wide at the entrance. The valley itself was narrow. A winding passage through ever narrowing valley walls. The shuttle would have to be left behind. DMD instructed Masterson to land on the beach, near the valley's opening.

 

The shuttle's ramp lowered into the soft sand of the beach. DMD walked out onto the sand, taking in the landscape. He felt overcome with a sense of power that caused him mild vertigo. He widened his stance slightly to prevent himself from loosing his balance. The power of the dark side rolled over him and through him. It had been so long since he had been to a place so rich in abundance of dark side energy. What he felt at the site of the new Sith academy was nothing compared to this. He called to his apprentice, while adjusting his gloves and cape.

 

"Lucifer, This is where you will be made a true Sith. Stand with me, as master and apprentice. Take it all in. Open yourself fully to the dark side. It resides here." He said, feeling the rush of such power.

 

"Let us see if we can't fashion you into a proper Sith, Lord Lucifer. Shall we begin."

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

DMD took two steps forward, stopped and spun around to face his apprentice. The look in Lucifer's eyes was not one of discovery and anticipation, but a look of pain and agony. What had not been seen, was the speed at which the elder Sith had unsheathed his sword and slashed horizontally, before returning his blade to its' scabbord.

 

The blood of Lucifer began to flow, dripping onto the sand beneath his feet. The look on his face was one of utter surprise. DMD stood silently watching his apprentice try to stop the bleeding by covering the wound with his hands, but his stomach had been cut too deeply. The weapon used to harm him was as unnatural and devilish as the man whom weilds it. The blade is coated in an alchemically altered toxin that prevents clotting, allowing the unlucky recipient of the cut to fullly bleed out. The only thing known to counter act the toxin, was overpowering it with dark side energies.

 

"You said you were ready. Now prove yourself to me." DMD said as he threw down his crimson cape and unhooked his sword from his belt.

 

A powerful blast of force energy followed his words, lifting Lucifer off his feet, throwing him backwards across the sand. DMD walked slowly toward his fallen apprentice, watching his every move carefully. He knew first hand how deadly a wounded being, who feared for their life could be when faced with certain death.

 

"Get up, Lucifer."

 

"I SAID GET UP!!!!" He said slamming his fist into the sand, triggering a wave of unseen energy to surge toward his apprentice. Lucifer's body was hurled into the air landing a few away with a solid thud.

 

"You must fight me to prove yourself. You will fight me or you will surely die here!" He said, standing with his arms folded across his chest.

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

The elder Sith was caught off guard by the deceptive strike that had been unleashed upon him by Lucifer. DMD barely had time to throw up his guard at the last minute. The result was that he was hit with an unusually powerful force push that lifted him off of his feet, tossing him a few feet from where he previously stood.

 

Using the momentum of the attack that struck him, he turned his forced landing into a graceful shoulder roll that left him kneeling in the sand. HE couldn't help but smile beneath his helmet. He could see the wound he inflicted upon his apprentice, still leaking the crimson fluid that was the key to life.

 

Desperation and fear had created a drive in his apprentice that fed the dark side energy within him.

 

DMD could feel Lucifer's power increase through the bond they shared and by the demonstration of aggression being demonstrated. Without hesitation, Lucifer pressed his attack. This time, the elder Sith was prepared. Using the force, he managed to catch his apprentice in mid-air, a few feet in front himself.

 

Reading the expression on Lucifer's face, he could tell this had been a move that had not been anticipated. DMD's left hand was outstretched, as though he were physically holding his target in the air, a byproduct of muscle memory. He had learned long ago how to channel the force without the aid of gesturing or using his limbs as channeling rods. For the sake of training, he used his hands so that his apprentice would be aware of his movements.

 

DMD lowered his outstretched arm while slowly closing the fingers of his hand, allowing Lucifer to fall to the ground. The young man began to gasp as he was desperately trying to take a breath. Invisible hands had taken hold of his throat and were squeezing his windpipe, cutting off his air supply.

 

"Flash and style are no substitute for tact and cold blooded resolve. That is the Jedi way. We fight not to protect or preserve peace, but to enforce our will and dominance over the weak or all those deemed beneath us."

 

Releasing his hold on the younger Sith's throat, he turned his back to him. DMD was fully aware of the risks of underestimating an opponent, but he needed to test the heir to his legacy fully.

 

"You are humiliated. Your life's blood soaks the sands at your feet. Give up. Fall to your knees and beg me for a merciful death, so we can be done with this embaressment of your feeble skills. Or, come and claim the title you so eagerly wish to have bestowed upon you. "Show me your power and resolve or prepare yourself for afterlife!" He shouted over his shoulder, as he closed his eyes and opened himself to his growing anger, anticipating Lucifer's failure.

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

Images began to bombard his mind. Bad things. Flashes from the past. He could see himself crucified in the throne room, in the Sith temple. The Dark Lady of Sith, Jgod standing by him holding his own sword, ready to behead him. In the background, he could see all those he spurned as he clawed his way from the bottom, to being one of the Sith high lords he once idolized. And then he felt heat against his neck. The heat was followed by the loss of the abiltiy to speak as his world began to spin. The cieling became the wall and the walls became the floor. As the darkness gradually enveloped his vision, he realized that he was bearing witness to his severed head falling from the stump of his neck. He wanted to scream out and curse those that stood by but he found no voice. The face of the Empress became large, larger than normal vision should allow. Her face was distorted into a devilish grin, that tore at the edges of her mouth, as she laughed and taughted him, as blood ran down her face.

 

The pain. It used to be as an echo, but now seemed more present. The smell of burned flesh flooded his nostrils. The images quickly faded and his eyes opened to the skies above Korriban. He had instinctively moved away from the percieved direction of attack. The pain in his hip, brought the hard reality of the real world tumbling back. A fury burned inside of him. His vision was red. He had murder on his mind and in his heart.

 

Lucifer was a few feet awat from where DMD had retreated to. Fueled by the reminder of his past foolish acts and the betrayal he suffered at the hands of a loved one, he had found a ready reservior of dark side energy to draw from. The power flowed through him freely and unhibited.

 

Moving at speeds to fast for the eye to percieve, he was face to face with his apprentice. Lucifer swung his lightsaber with remarkable skill for one not fully trained in Sith combat. If not for the force and years of combat trianing, the younger Sith would have surely cleaved him in half. DMD side stepped the attack, grabbing Lucifer's wrist and pulling his arm back, applying pressure to his elbow. DMD pulled the lightsaber from his apprentice's hand, after twisting it free due to the pain from the arm bar. Lucifer spun his body around, performing a forward flip, alleviating the pain in his arm.

 

A powerful kick that could have doubled him over and ruptured his kidney, found its' mark in DMD's midsection. Although he felt the blow, he absorbed the pain and added it to the reservior of dark side power he had at his command. He twisted the arm the opposite direction while pushing his apprentice's palm toward his elbow. DMD delivered a kick of his own, connecting solidly across the back of the younger Sith with a loud thud. Lucifer's lightsaber blade was plunged into the flesh of it's wielder. The crimson blade was buried to the hilt, a few inches from the ball and socket joint in his shoulder.

 

DMD turned off the power switch on the saber's hilt, throwing it into the sands. With a single hand, DMD had lifted Lucifer off the ground into the air by the throat. Lucifer desperate to avoid his incoming doom, through wold attacks to try and free himself from his master's steely grip. One attack struck DMD on his nose, causing blood to spill. DMD didn't respond to the blow. He just stood motionless, like a statue, though increasing the pressuse of his hold on Lucifer's throat.

 

"Lucifer. Hear my words. You are at the brink of death. Look on me and see the redish aura that surrounds my form. What you see is the dark side as manifested through my connection to it. You must use the force to draw upon the darkness. Pull it into yourself and use the power to give you strength. This technique is known as draining. Make my power your own and overcome your present situation." He said through gritted teeth.

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

DMD watched the actions of young Lucifer as though he were standing outside himself. Everything from the ringing in his ears, to the cauterized hole in his shoulder, were lost upon his senses. Almost like it was happening to someone else. His hands seemed paler than normal and his eyes were shifting from emerald green, to that eerie shade of yellow associated with Sith pupils.

 

The power! It had to be the power. He had read about the effects of prolongued exposure to pure darkside energy. To draw on it to much, too deeply, is to invite the power to consume you completely.

 

A closer look at himself, was begining to confirm his fears. As the flow of power increased, time slowed to a crawl. He could see infinity and all it's possibilities. His mind searched frantically for a solution. His thoughts went to Lucifer. Was it possible that he had succumbed to blood rage? Had he given himself over to the primal killer instincts of the ancient Sith Warriors from which he adopted his fighting style?

 

Too many questions and not enough time. His apprentice had intent in his eyes. The intent of bloody murder. This was expected behavior for a Sith. To be killed by your apprentice or vice-versa was tradition. It was the way you ensured the strong would rightfully preserve the Sith heritage and the power to embody it.

 

"My talisman!" He said, unaware if it was mentally projected or spoken words.

 

Years ago on the planet Yavin IV, while searching for Sith artifacts, DMD discovered an ancient talisman. The talisman gave it's possesser the abiltity to channel and store a finite amount of darkside power. This was beneficial to him due to his fears of having his physical self consumed by the destructive force.

 

From the outside looking in he could see the medallion, white hot hanging around his neck. The aura of the force around had became less candy apple red and more dark red, like blood. He could feel his power. The spirits of long dead Sith were drawn to his display, circling the battle area of the beach. Their decayed forms watching and waiting for an opportunity to possess him. To once again feel blood running through their veins. They began to howl and scream. The power was too great for even them to consume. Such power was weilded by one who could destroy their hollowed souls.

 

Korriban itself was feeding him power. It occured to him that he had never wore the talisman in a place so rich in the dark side.

 

The muscles in his well formed arms were becoming leaner than he was accustomed to. His fingers appeared boney. There wasn't much time left. He knew what needed to be done.

 

Stepping back inside himself, he summoned the storms. The skies above darkened with heavy gray clouds. A low rumble could be heard in the distance. Flashes of light, illuminated the clouds in random areas. A bolt of lightening struck the water, filling the area with the smell of electrified air.

 

Time was still moving slow for him. Grains of sand where drawn to him, as well as small rocks and shells discarded by long dead sealife. DMD's body rose into the air, as he drew more power into himself. His body rose higher as the rain began to fall in large, heavy drops. Time ceased to slow and stopped completely. Pushing outward and upward with every ounce of his being, from every cell in his body, he released the energy. Red lightening surged all round him, crackling from his fingertips to his toes. The red lightening shot up into the clouds, piercing the sky, leaving a hole in the dark clouds. Gusts of wind surged beneath him drawing the power upward into an upside down funnel.

 

When the last burst of energy left his body, everything became calm and quiet. Then he heard someoneone screaming. He thought that it was more of the Sith spirits manifesting themselves, but there were none in sight. Lucifer lay on the ground beneath him, begining to recover from the effects of the surge. The sound he heard was himself screaming in pain.

 

He fell to the ground, as a leaf falls from a tree. His feet settled into the sand as he steadied himself. His apprentice stood across from him with his weapon poised for attack. DMD gestured for him to lower his weapon. Wearily Lucifer obeyed his master's unspoken command.

 

"You...you have proven yourself, my apprentice. You have survived a fight you knew you couldn't win. And you never held back. I expect nothing less from a true Sith."

 

"We came here to seek out an artifact that will increase your powers ten fold. This valley leads to the resting place of Darth Bane. Within his tomb is a fabled sword believed to have been weilded by numerous Dark Lords of Sith." He said with labored breath.

 

"This is my gift to you. But you must seek it alone. Go forth and retrieve you prize. When and if you return, I will bestow upon you the mantle of Sith Lord."

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

DMD could sense Lucifer's approach before he could see him. There was an unmistakable feeling that he had been quickened; his force signature had increased. The man who left as an apprentice had returned with the desire in his heart to be made whole. A Sith. And as promised, he was going to get his due reward.

 

Young Lucifer had a strange look in his eye, that the elder Sith percieved as cockiness, but he later credited it to pride. He came forward and kneeled before DMD with the sword held out as if it were a trophy, but more of a symbol of his accomplishemt.

 

DMD grabbed the hilt of the sword, measuring it's weight and balance; immediately sensing the power and its' connection to the Sith of old. He drove the sword into the sand, blade first, but deep enough so that it stood erect on its' own.

 

kneeling in front of his former apprentice, he grabbed both of Lucifer's hands and placed them on both sides of the blade. DMD cupped his hands over Lucifer's applying pressure with his steely grip. Lucifer's blood ran slowly from the gashes forming on the palms of his hands.

 

'This is your weapon now. This is the bond that will bind its' power to yours for how ever long you choose to weild it." DMD said, noticing the pain in his apprentic's eyes.

 

"This weapon...this sword, is a symbol of your lineage and your connection to the older ways."

 

"Lucifer, you came here as my apprentice. But today, you have risen above being my student or an underling. The dark side has bestowed great power to you." DMD released his hold over Luicfer's hand, allowing him to remove his hands from the sharpness of the ancient blade.

 

"Rise and claim your title, Darth Lucifer!"