Mimban

[Guest]

Jareth deduced from his own exhaustion and hunger, that it was almost time to return to the palace. He also realized that he was farther away from it than he needed to be. He should have turned back long ago.

 

Jareth turned on his heels and ran through the jungle. He ducked and jumped the vines and branches in his way. He passed the area where he defeated the Coway, and continued on at rapid pace.

 

As the sith passed the opening where the wolves were defeated, he noticed their carcasses had been picked clean. He relived part of the battle in his mind, and was proud.

 

The palace lay about a thousand yards away from him still, and the final 300 yards were clearing. Jareth tried to keep up his speed as that clearing got closer and closer. The storm still raged overhead, and he knew that last 300 yards would be rough without the shelter of the forest canopy.

 

Jareth took no-more than 10 steps into the clearing before coming very close to being struck by lightning. The loud crackle of the electricity hitting the ground near him caused his ears to ring wildly, and his hands reached up to clasp them. He was almost blinded by the heat and brightness of the bolt. Regaining his bearing, and clearing his mind he increased his speed. Fueled now by nothing but the force, he was almost home.

[Tashkri]

Where did all of these come from?!

 

Eyeing the mystery droids, Tash raises one hand and points towards one of the droids. A large rock seperates from the giant shield and flies towards it. Expecting a large crunch or even some shots to be fired at the rock, Tash is surprised as the rock passes right through the droid.

 

Recovering quickly, ferality returns to Tash. Spreading his hands out, he sends a "shock wave" of the force through the room. Nineteen of the droids dissipated, and the remaining droid rocked back on its wheels slightly.

 

Pacing forward, Tash comes within ten feet of the droid before any of its shots manage to make it through the shield. Deflecting it off to the side, Tash sends his shield straight out. Rocks batter the droid, knocking its shields and weapons off-line. Advancing the remaining distance, Tash brings his saber up and brutally slices through the droid. As it clatters to the ground, Tash moves to the center of the room, keeping his saber ignited, in case if Rocketblaze was going to send out anything else.

[John Skywalker]

John, with eyes still peering into the stone face of the Iridonian, as his patience is fading... He turns on his heel and paces forward a short distance. Turning, a crimson gleam in his grey eyes, a sickening smirk across his face, and with the extension of his hand, the Iridonian was hurled back with force lightning. Simbera... what I am going to do with you?

 

Allowing the Iridonian to get back to his feet, hopefully now a little irritated after being singed with the Lightning and a little more talkative... He called through the force to Gene, Come, apprentice... Do not sit around idly waiting... for I lose patience rather quickly...

 

With the two vibroswords now placed on his belt, next to the dagger and the lightsaber, he clasped his hands behind his back and stared at the Iridonian waiting for Gene's approach.

[Rocketblaze]

Rocketblaze released the grip as the droid was destroyed. He then took up his "Orange" drink and began to walk down the ramp. Suddenly he stopped. Rocketblaze had an idea. Walking back to the room, he grabbed a drink labled "Grape" and took it with him. In the room, Rocketblaze decided that Tashkri had demonstrated enough talent in the Force and in battle. He would grow in power to become a fine Sith. With that, Rocketblaze touched the "Grape" to both of his shoulders and spoke.

 

"I promote thee within the Sith order. ((OOC: Since the ranks might change, you'll have to look up what you're considered if it passes. For all intents and purposes, you're the rank above 'Apprentice,' which would remain through the change.)) Go forth and serve well in the name of Ar-Pharazon. But first, go heal with this "Grape" beverage."

 

Rocketblaze handed Tashkri the drink. He walked to the door and looked back on Tashkri, his most sensable Apprentice. He like Tash because Tash reminded him of himself, but he still liked himself better. Taking up some materials for lightsaber construction, Rocketblaze began to walk down the corridor to his room. He arrived at his room and entered, taking care to place the materials securely away before lying down. RB fell asleep on his bed, dreaming about how he could improve his room.

[Sith Gene Starri]

Hearing his Master's voice in his head, and not about to question the power of the Force, Gene got up and ran back to the location of his Master. He allowed his implants to pump more oxygen through him, relying on the drugs it produced to keep him at a steady twenty mile an hour run.

Edited February 19, 2009 by Guest

[Guest]

Jareth was almost as fast as the lighning that seemed to persue him across the final 300 yards to the palace entryway.

 

As he walked through the door, his clothes dripping wet, he took off his mask and let his long soaking hair fall down his back.

 

Save a small scratch on his left shoulder, he was completely unharmed. He was, however, hungry, and very tired.

 

The apprentice didn't have to search long within the palace before he found his master. He knelt at her feet and spoke softly,

 

"Master, I have returned. What is your bidding?"

[John Skywalker]

John turned to see Gene just enter the swamp marsh... "Welcome back." His gaze turned to Gene, growing tired of the Iridonian's lack of reaction. "Gene, are you prepared to take the first steps towards the powers of the dark side? To enhance your natural abilities by commanding the force, bending it to your will?"

 

John peered into the man's eyes with a sense of curiosity, "Are you prepared to rely solely on the only weapon you will always have at your disposal?"

[Tarrian Skywalker]

Tarrian smiled at Jareth, a rare occurrance, and nodded for him to stand. As he stood up, she got a good whift of him...crinckling up her nose, she took a slight step back. "uh...first you are to take a shower and get rid of that stench, then you can take a few hours and rest and when you are refreshed, you are to meet me in the dining hall."

 

As he nodded to her and started away towards the facilities, she cleared her throat. "And it will not be the same menu."

[Darth Searcy]

Micheal finishes his saber and ignites the blade. A blood red blade cralws out of the hilt of Micheals sith sword. He disignites the end and sheaths it. He walks out of the room and goes to see Master Raynuck.

 

He walks upt him and says "Master Raynuck. I was wondering if there were any apprentices that needed training."

[Sith Gene Starri]

The question was simple enough, Gene had then performed up to expectation.

 

At least he wasn't a pile of ash.

 

"I am ready if you deem me to be, master. I will follow, if I am just told what to do."

Edited February 19, 2009 by Guest

[Guest]

It was as his master spoke, that Jareth smelled himself for the first time.

 

He stood and nodded to her as he went toward his quarters.

 

Once there, he stripped his clothes and threw them away. They were not only wet but covered in semi-coagulated wolf blood. His body was in good condition, and the scratch on his shoulder did not look as bad as he thought it would.

 

Jareth cleaned himself, and redressed, then got a few hours of much needed rest.

[Tashkri]

Not given a chance to reply to Rocketblaze, Tash salutes his receding back with the "Grape." Chugging it, he goes out to find a room of his own. Inscribing his own name on the door, he puts some bacta patches on and falls over onto the bed.

[Guest]

Jareth woke up shortly after falling asleep because he was too hungry to sleep. He needed the rest, but he needed food more.

 

Jareth prepared himself, and then entered the dining hall. He took a seat,

and waited for his master to arrive. He hoped it wouldn't be long.

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

It was a cold night. Sin was in the air. A formidable and familiar Dark Lord of the Sith began his descent upon the Sith World of Mimban. The world would never be the same. The woeful tales that would haunt the inhabitants of Mimban were being etched eternally by the words, actions and ideas of a man named Ar-Pharazon. The Order of Sith was like a home to his deeds, and home was where the heart will always remain. Ar-Pharazon was on the last leg of his homecoming arrival.

 

The star filled sky was suddenly punctuated by the glimmering of a spherical transport, outfitted with weapons, locked and loaded with the most modern ship to ship warfare devices, and crawling with gadgets designed for bounty hunting and tracking. Bright flame jets hummed and dimmed from an azure color to that of a cool orange as the ship settled down upon a landing strip. A side hatched popped open and slammed back and around the side of the ship. The interior lights of the ship were off, resulting in an eerie shadow as the pilot disembarked. Ar-Pharazon's feet touched the steel rivited ground plating and clanked along as he strode away from his ship.

 

A storm was occuring. Lightning struck and thunder echoed through the night skies, which was comfortable to Ar-Pharazon. He would rather darkness and gloom inhabit the sky than brightness and warmth. His hood was covering his face in all aspects.

 

He was not questioned for his powers for his darkness radiated about them as someone to fear and respect. Walking through the structure he young apprentices, new faces, old friends, and a variety of everyone walking around. It was not long before he came across familiar faces such as Bishop of Battle, Darth Sauron, and young Abaddon. He hoped that he would encounter Rocketblaze, his former apprentice and greatest student. However, at the moment Abaddon caught his attention.

 

"Abaddon, it has been some time since you have been in this temple. How are you faring in the ways of the Sith?"

[Abaddon]

Abaddon turned to the dark lord who's presence he had not felt in such a long time. The omnius feeling the Sith Master eminated was stiffling to most but was enlifting to Abaddon.

 

Abaddon's hand rested lightly on his saber as usual, his cloak's hood was cast back in the presence of the masters. He looked away from Sauron, from whom he had been awaiting a reply.

 

His metallic hand went through his hair as he turned to Ar Pharazon. His black cloak fluttering, disguising his movements with its own. The metallic backed boots clanked on the concrete when he moved to moved.

 

He now faced the Legend come back. He wasnt sure wether to be more suprised of the fact that the former Sith Emporer had returned or the fact that he had bothered to speak to him. He decided against suprise altogether, he'd never been one to feign it all that well anyway.

 

 

"Greetings, Master Ar Pharazon. I am doing well as of late...I was just requesting from Lord Sauron the chance to prove myself in Master trials."

[Garet Jax]

Garet awoke with a start. Abaddon had been in his nightmares again. The Trandoshan no longer felt fear towards Abaddon, they were on the same team. But he had wounded Garet's pride, and then killed Garet. Death was frightening, even for a lizard warrior. The fleeting glimspses of those last moments he retained were troubling.

 

Garet made his way through the halls of the sith compound, when his keen ears happened to catch the words spoken in the adjoining area. He approached, sitting cross-legged near where the two were speaking. It was none other than Abaddon himself, and the great Ar-Pharazon. The one who had felt the need to blast him with force lightening during his hopeful days

 

Those memories left Garet's head quickly, he was only interested in seeing whether he had heard correctly. It appeared Abaddon desired to take the Master trials. If Garet was correct in this assumption, he was willing to admit the sith deserved it.

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

"I see no reason to wait any longer. I will give you your trials personally. Let us begin them now, for I feel there may be a purpose for you in upcoming times. The force is with us young Abaddon, let us, or you rather begin this final chapter in your skill building. Lead me to a chamber large enough where we may ignite this ritual."

[Abaddon]

Abaddon nodded. He had not expected this in the least, to be given his trials by perhaps the greatest Sith of his time, rivaled by few in the title, his former master being one. Abaddon turned again on his heels quickening his pace down the long halls.

 

The solemn thudding of his boots echoed down the hall. His commanding steps echoed on the course brick architecture that was the temple fortress. The black walls closing in as they walked deeper into the Sith home.

 

It reminded him so much of Korriban. He was comforted by its darkness and earie lighting, its cold wet air glistened in the green light that illuminated the halls. It really seemed to remove more light than it created, just the way the Sith liked it.

 

He turned down another hall and saw the young apprentice, Garret. He admired the Sith and hoped that he would become stronger and move forward in his training quickly. He was sure his hopes would not go unmet.

 

He turned into a large room. It was perhaps the largest in the temple. Its dark walls could not be seen from one end or another. Huge buttresses of Gothic architecture held the roof in place. Gargoyles of sorts seemed carved into the stone. The local inhabitants had made this room the center of their great temple. Probably a burial ground of sorts.

 

He looked to Ar Pharazon.

 

"The largest room in the temple. I assume was once a morgue for the local inhabitants." His cool voice had its usual tone of ice but now had an air of respect to it.

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

Ar-Pharazon was pleased.

 

"This room... is indeed a dark and restless place. The spirits will move as we began this ancient ceremony, or perhaps a celebration of sorts."

 

Now, tell me, what weapons or equipment do you have for this trial? Do not lie to me, for the outcome of this trial will depend upon it."

[Raynuk Montar]

*Sin was indeed in the air as Mes Tisserand fell to the floor after a particularly brutal torture session at the hands of Raynuk Montar. The Sith master stood over the Jedi, his back smoking slightly from the electro shock treatment that had just been placed apon the Jedi*

 

"You are only making this worse for you Mes...All I ask is for the name of a planet. I have a feeling your Jedi friends would not stick together to be slaughtered again, as they were on Naboo and Dagobah. So just tell me Mes, where are the Jedi?"

 

*Raynuk kicked Mes in the face with a small smirk*

[Mes Tisserand]

*Mes leered upward, his eyes meeting Raynuk's...

 

"I don't believe you...such a great sith...but so incredibly STUPID. I will tell you for the final time...I don't know anything!"

[Abaddon]

Abaddon pulled out each weapon and laid them seperately beside him.

 

First he removed his lightsabers. His personal blade constructed by himself, another a Jedi's who had been killed on Dagobah, another from his battle for the apprenticeship of Bahrom Zar, and then 3 of his apprentices lightsaberes from whom he had removed till the apprentice proved himself again.

 

He laid the six lightsabers in a pile on the floor beside him. Then he removed his machetes, two, that were strapped to his back. The handles faced down so as to be invisible underneath his cloak. He laid them in the pile.

 

Then he removed a Ghurka blade. His pride. He had used the blade since he had entered his training as a Sith. He valued it far more than his lightsaber even. He placed it softly beside the pile. Its blood covered blade glimmering against the blackness of the room. It was the blade he had finished ever kill he had ever made with. From the great Heretic to common apprentices. The blade was priceless to him.

 

He then began unstrapping his various knives. Hidden pouches within his cloak came open as he tossed several switchblades into a pile of there own. He removed a chest strap and a belt each held over 30 throwing knives and threw them into the same pile. He removed his butterfly knives from within his arm sheath and through them into a pile.

 

"In addition to this I have an ejectable lightsaber in my leg. A model copy of my personal one and an ejectable throwing knife in my wrist. I also have a force enhancement drug that I can inject from within myself if I so wish and a poison blade in my boot. All of Kheldar's design." Abaddon said stating his equipment. He had not liked this part of the exercise in the least. No one had ever seen where he kept every weapon and exactly how large his arsenal was.

[Raynuk Montar]

*Raynuk laughed*

 

"Oh Mes, you fail to see the higher orders here. I know that you are clueless, as am I. I merely enjoy beating and tortureing you...And we will be having a 'guest' shortly "

 

*Raynuk left Mes lying on the floor as he exited the room, and made his way up to the returning dakrness. LAP had returned, and no doubt would want to 'meet' the Jedi Mes Tisserand personally.*

 

I have a surprise for you Ar-Pharazon...

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

You're going to hate me for this Abaddon, but here it is...

 

"Pick three of your weapons, and set the rest aside until after the trial. The emphasis of this activity is to test your ability in various practices, not weapons handling. That is for knights and apprentices, and I do expect that by you being here, you are far beyond that. I do suggest that one of your weapons be a lightsaber. The rest is up to you. Also, let it be known that if something you encounter throughout the course of your trials happens to deposit a weapon or item of sorts, feel free to make use of it. That's what it's there for.

 

There will be no overall time limit for any of the stages in your trials, unless specified by me later on.

 

Remember that as a Sith, you will employ trickery, ruthlessness, and a concentration in the dark magiks. All force techniques are acceptable unless of course, specified by myself.

 

One final thought, you're entering this trial as a great warrior and lord of the Sith, I hope, and in fact, I know you can achieve the next level. Hopefully you will arise a Sith Master. May the force be with you. You'll need it. Now pick your weapons and tell me when you're ready."

[Abaddon]

Abaddon picked his weapons with care. He was wise enough to take the lightsaber first. Next he grabbed his Ghurka, made exactly like a Sith sword it was something he would not go without.

 

His last choice he thought hard about. Weapons had advantages in different ways, but he then focused on Ar Pharazons choice of words. "The emphasis of this activity is to test your ability in various practices, not weapons handling." He thought well of this then picked his final weapon. The set of throwing knives. Each with distinct shape, designed to slash through the air at accelerated speeds.

 

He turned to the master his eyes cold and set as they met the other Sith's.

 

"I am ready."

[Garet Jax]

Garet had followed, and watched with interest. He was in the shadows, well out of sight, but there was no doubt both had sensed and tolerated his prescence. He was here to observe his betters, and learn.

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

"Good, let's begin."

 

I'm going ask you a series of questions. Your responses to them will decide the course we will take in your trials. While some Sith may deem this an odd practice, I deem it effective. Now, for the first question...

 

On a clear day, you chance upon a strange animal, its leg trapped in a hunter's clawsnare. Judging from the bleeding, it will not survive long.

 

Which course of action would you take?

 

Would you Draw your dagger, mercifully ending its life without a single thrust?

 

Would you use herbs and magic to put it to sleep?

 

Or would you not interfere in the course of natural evolution, but rather observe and eventually pass on?"

[Rocketblaze]

Rocketblaze slept for a while. He was well rested upon waking, and he began his journey down the hall. Reaching a bathroom, he cleaned up. A nice shower, some new clothes... not clean, mind you, new clothes. He combed his hair with the Force, letting his natural curls take their beautiful form upon his head.

 

After primping, he went back to his room. Grabbing up his equipment, he had a revelation. Why did he carry such things? Why bother? Why not be a Naturalist as an individual, using only some of his wants? Sure, that sounded good. He'd do that. Surely a seventeen year old could at least try it out and not ruin his life.

 

First, Rocketblaze threw down his robe. The stupid, thick, cumbersome robe that had annoyed him since starting to use it. Then went the gauntlets. They weren't anything special, so he had no trouble parting with them. The rest of his clothing would suit him well. His lightsaber was a part of him, so it would stay clamped to his belt, but the broken shuriken could go to hell. Instead, it landed on the floor next to his discarded robe. Oh well, maybe next time.

 

Deciding that it was time for a nice change, Rocketblaze proceeded through the twists and turns to the outside world of Mimban. It was indeed still storming, but RB didn't mind. His communication system was good enough to do what he wanted. Inside of the ship, RB first toned down the provisions on his Swoop. He then placed the wicked dagger that he carried onto the Swoop, so that it could defend itself if it came to life in a fighting rage.

 

Wearing his clothes and ring, and carrying only his wrist link (which had gum in the compartment) and lightsaber, Rocketblaze sat down in his pilot's chair. He plugged his droid into the console. After a warm-up the screen came up, giving access to the Holonet. First, RB did some banking. He deposited all of his credits into the most secure financial establishment that he could find before looking for medical information. He began intense study of anatomy from Hollywood Upstairs Medical School.

[Abaddon]

"Leave it, that is the way of things. If I were in a particularly bad mood I might light it aflame or force lightnining it." Abaddon's voice was cold as ice.

 

His brows furrowed a moment wondering why a Sith would choose anything different. And why the dark figure testing him had bothered to even ask, but then Ar Pharazon always had an unusually effective way of conducting things. And almost always it didnt make sense in the begining. He was more than well aware of the master's history.

 

He kept a watchful eye on the rest of the room wondering what exactly the Sith had planned. His dark eyes were set on AP but he continued to use the force to sense out what was going on. His peripheral vision spotted nothing and he had to hide his bewilderment at what exactly the Master had planned.

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

"Good answer."

 

Ar-Pharazon began the next question.

 

"Your cousin has given you an embarassing nickname, and even worse, enjoys calling you it in front of your friends. You have asked him to stop, but he continues in calling you it.

 

Now, do you attack your cousin, leaving him bleeding beaten and humbled, and with the threat that he will not live through calling you the nickname again?

 

Do you make up a tale that describes your nickname as a badge of courage?

 

Or... Do you make up an even more embarassing nickname for your cousin?"