Trulalis

[Darth Furion]

((OOC Notes: The lessons begin.

 

First off, none of you know that the planet you are on is Trulalis. The only people presently on the planet that know are myself and the ferryman. I transported you guys here instead of having you all jump in your respective ships and meet me here for security purposes. Its not a matter of trust, its simply a matter of reducing possible sources of leaks. Information can be extracted through various means. This is for your safety.

 

Personal Notes

 

Pein: If you notice in my previous posts, I was the only one here until everyone arrived at once with the Ferryman. Since even the slaves didn't arrive until later, and no orders have been issued yet, no work has started. They don't know what to do, and you don't know what I'm doing. The slaves will be no where near the mud when the work is ready to begin.

 

Lucifer: This is not a Dark Side planet. Read the posts before you before you assume to describe the scene. The planet is actually quite the opposite, with lush forests and grassy planes all around. The light and neutral forces are strong here. The only dark side spot you'd notice would be fluxing dark grey/black cloud looming above the mud bowl. Also, I don't know why you guys are assuming there is going to be a new temple built here. Granted, there is, but there's been no IC indication to lead you to believe this. You can certainly conjecture that a temple is one of the possible things to be built here, but as of yet there's no empirical evidence supporting the theory.

 

Tobias: Again, no building is being constructed yet. All you guys see is a giant mud pit and building materials being unloaded from the cargo ships.

 

Main point for all of you is: Watch your setting and be mindful of your character's knowledge.))

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Oi!"

 

The sound came from behind, but Tobias didn't get a chance to turn and see the source before feeling a harsh slice cut from shoulder to ribs. The sonic boom of the whip's crack only accentuated the sharp, sudden pain. The trickles of blood flowing down the hopeful's back were numb to him, so trivial by comparisson the body didn't bother registering it.

 

"What do ya think yer doin'? Think ye cun jus mosey on aboot of yer own free will, do ya?" He chided as he wound the whip back into coils. "Git back to the ships an wait for the taskmaster to tell ya what yer doin'. Till then, you don' getta do nothin'. Got it?"

 

~~~~

 

Lucifer was stunned before he knew the bolt was coming at him. Dazed but not out, several other slaves dragged him out of the mud and slumped him on the ground unceremoniously.

 

"What are you doing?!" One whispered in a hurried tone. "Just going out there like that. We have to be told what to do, not just do whatever we want. Eat, drink, piss, sleep, we don't get to do anything without permission. You're just lucky they stunned you instead of shot you. I've seen them mow down whole teams without batting an eyelash, just because they didn't jump when he said jump."

 

"LINE UP!"

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Without hesitation, the cluttered group of thousands upon thousands of slaves fell in rank and file, not a peep of confusion or questioning escaping even the children. They knew their lot in life, and held no illusions about changing it. Perhaps if they were slaves to the Empire, or privately owned to some rich tycoon, then hope could possibly exist. Hope of escape, or even being set free. Most commonly the chance to even buy your own freedom existed after a certain about of time. But with the Sith, there was no hope, no way out. Death was the only escape, and even then you could not simply hope for it when you disobeyed. More often than not the Sith tortured, well beyond justifiable means, but rarely killed their help. The only option was to work hard and hope to distinguish yourself, and possibly, one day join the acolytes that served the Order. It may not have been a dream life, but at least they got three hots and a cot, and had to fear for their life far less often.

 

"Alright you scum. You see that man in the middle of the pit? He's the boss, got it? What he says, goes. If he tells you to slit your own throat, you do it, understood?"

 

"Yes, sir." Echoed thousands in unison. Practice was not necessary for these types of responses. Simply living the life of a slave to the Sith conditioned you as well as any basic training any military could provide.

 

"Don't tell me, tell the boss!"

 

"YES, MASTER!" Rang obedience from the lot. The man in the middle of the mud pit, some hundreds of meters away, only nodded his acknowledgment. No more was needed.

 

"Seems that suits him. Now, you'll all be divided up. We need to move these stones-" He said, pointing to a massive block of perfectly carved rock probably ten meters square. "-to various sites surrounding this mud pit. There's six locations around the pit where the stones have been unloaded. They need to be distributed around the parameter in smaller piles. Any of you civil engineers out there,"

 

He paused to snort, and loudly, the audacity of it. What slave would know anything about civil engineering. "You may ask why we're not using ships or fancy equipment to do all this moving. Well, I don't give a bantha's hairy ass what you're questions are, you do what we tell ya. So unless you got ten thousand credits to buy your team one of these pieces of equipment, shut up and get to work."

 

((I want you guys to break up. You cannot be in the same slave team as another apprentice. The work is simple, but what I'm looking for here is interaction with NPCs. You're on your own for the time being, and I want to see you tell a story. Now, you will not be in charge of your team. There will be an NPC taskmaster overseeing your work. However, you will write for him as well.

 

The one who does the best job writing out a good story, with realistic interactions, story depth, and good writing will be rewarded. Get to work))

[darth shadowlord]

The ferryman exited hyperspace and headed for the planet, landing near the new temple site. Disembarking from the shuttle, Draken looked at Derrik. "Go and join with the slave group there. You along with the other apprentices and slaves here will be put to work on the Temple soon. I will be else where taking care of other business." He turned and walked across the field till he was standing at the edge of the mud pit, the top of his staff glowing with dark energy.

 

"Well now, this wouldn't have been the apt place to build this. I would have chosen rock for the base but this does have potential."

 

((OCC Derrik, follow the instruction in the post above mine by Lord Furion regarding the other apprentices.))

[Tobias Vos]

Tobias reeled in pain. This guy had come out of nowhere. "Touch me again; and die." Tobias said in a grimacing tone, spat at the man and walked away to rejoin the other apprentices.

 

Tobias rubbed his side and remember why he was here. But where exactly, was here?

 

Tobias once again stood by Thule's side. He was going to wait for Torin to summon them.

[Darth Furion]

The same guard that had whipped Tobias stood as one of many, each in turn ushering large groups of slaves to their designated areas. When he spotted Tobias just standing around, he made no effort to hide his pleasure in his crooked, toothless grin.

 

"Boy, ya juss don' learn, do ya?"

 

The whip cracked one, twice, three times, each flick of the wrist lacerating Tobias' soft skin in long crimson stripes. The whip rested casually in his hand, ready, eager even to cut into the flesh of the rebellious.

 

"Try it." He growled in a daring tone at the prone slave. Other taskmasters had watched the exchange with a careful eye. If Tobias got uppity again, he'd find himself fighting not one men, but a dozen, all armed to the teeth with whips, stun batons, and the authority of the Sith Order to back them.

 

"Now, git to work!"

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Lucifer felt the bolt as it hit the sensation of pain invigorating him slightly..it was like elctricity running down his spine, tolerable at the least afterall pain let him know he was alive. Raising himself from the mud and wiping it from his mouth Lucifer looked to the man with distain, who was he to lecture him, a lowly slave not even worthy of apprenticeship nor his attention...pitiful.

 

With that moment Lucifer lined up with the others pulling into file and rank, it was like being back in the imperial training again...drill sergeant and all. Lucifer simply listened not speaking before following a group of slaves to one of the six locations that were marked a taskmaster appointed to watch over the proceedings. The kiffar sith waited until the taskmaster would speak telling them just what was required, as much as he despised the man he had no choice but to listen, the crack of the whip or a stun bolt would be the result if he refused, as invigorating as that would be he had no care for it.

 

Lucifer listened as his taskmaster a gruff looking old human man who looked to have been tortured walk up and start issuing as required of him. Most likely it was a result from his superiors for disobeying them at one time or another either way it was of little consequance.

 

''RIGHT YOU LOT! Start moving those stones and don't you dare think about taking a break, if you do feel the need I'll make you wish you were never spat out of that welp that brought you screaming into this world!''

 

''NOW GET TO WORK!.''

 

With a quick coil of his whip the taskmaster set about his business, filthy and vile little man in Lucifer's opinion his eyes pieced into him before the apprentice set to work, swearing one day he would remove his head and make a special place for it as one of his many trophies for now though he was like any other apprentice or slave, it was beneath him yet he had no choice less he be punished by these slaves true masters.

 

Picking up one of the stones up was no easy task and required at least six people to lift it. Lucifer looked upon his group a mix of many races but all in the same predicament, they were trapped in a worthless existence where the only escape was death for them...that would not be Lucifer's fate as was the thought coming from the kiffar...no he had a greater role to come in the galaxy, he knew it.

 

The taskmaster proceeding to start whipping another of the slaves who was working too slow letting each coil rip through the flesh until the skin peeled back on itself, he seemed to enjoy the privilege almost as was evident from the grin on his face with each strike. He shouted at him before the slave scrambled to help pick up one of the stones being sure to keep pace this time as to not receive the same treatment twice.

 

''Move it you worms! get that stone moving we got a deadline to keep!''

 

With one quick solitary swipe Lucifer was struck by the whip, the coils as before cut into the flesh tearing meat from the skin, yet Lucifer did not yield to the pain he simply looked at the man burying his image into his mind for later reference and remaining silent before continuing to lift the stone upon his arms as with the others keeping pace. As he moved Lucifer looked about noting the landscape, the mud bowl he was in and the lush greenary around...it was a stark contrast to the constant flow of traffic and endless stream of duracrete buildings on Coruscant. To be honest Lucifer would rather be torturing some helpless creature but instead he had been put to work, such was the life he chose when he left the empire behind. On that thought Lucifer and the slaves placed the first block in position lining it up with the other five sites in the pit and as told in small piles ready for whatever came next although one slave was unlucky in that he was too slow becoming trapped beneath the stone and making a right mess of the mud as his guts spewed out from beneath it, not that this bothered Lucifer in the slighest he had seen worse once he had finished with a victim once even so far as to torture a child, such was his malice...to Lucifer he was nothing more than a chunk of meat, at the sight eh even let a slight smile grip his lip before a untimely intervention.

 

The taskmaster stomped over proceeded to shout wildly at the group before whipping everyone including Lucifer again, meat seperated from flesh, yet again Lucifer remained steady as before using his pain to drive him, had the taskmaster been any other man he would have been dead for just touching the kiffar in such a way, in that regard he was lucky.

 

''YOU CLUMPSY FOOLS! I OUGHT TO WHIP THE LIFE FROM YOU!''

 

One of the other slaves quickly replaced the dead speaking up when he did whispering almost to the ohers as Lucifer ''We got to be quicker, he'll keep whipping us if we stop!''

 

Lucifer looked upon the one that spoke up his hatred for such a lowely slave was visibly clear through his one remaining eye as much as it could be told from the force, the darkside radiated off of him like a black mist covering his body although invisible to the naked eye but visible to those who were of the same nature. The kiffar hated interaction with such lowly creatures and only did so when he had little choice, such as was the case with these slaves, remaining quiet Lucifer continued to move with the group as they chattered amongst themselves until they were interrupted by the taskmaster and systematically punished in return with that final whip the group kept quiet while carrying the remaining stone blocks to their new position.

 

Several hours later....

 

Finally the task was done, the stones were evenly placed within each pile as specified small and in line with the other sites. Lucifer stood with the others in rank and file as their taskmaster shouted out.

 

''FILE IN!, Well worms look like we finally made it now stand here and shut up whille I find out what we do next! I hear so much as a whisper so help me I'll tear that skin from your bones! Understood? I said Understood!''

 

All the slaves, Lucifer included shouted back in unison before placing their arms behind their backs military style and waiting for the next phase to begin, Lucifer all the while loathing every moment he saw that wretched humans face, each time wanting to rip his face from his body and feed his remains to whatever carnivorous wildlife remained on this planet that his hatred be sated. For now though all he could do was wait as the taskmaster went to recieve his new orders.

[Guest]

Thule had been pushed into the line before Tobias had been whipped . He had been put into a group with a very young and harsh taskmaster. Thule only evaded being punished by keeping his mouth shut .But the other salves didn't and that was what got Thule punished too . Again and agin the whip lashed across Thule's back .

 

After hours of work they had completed the the first part . But for Thule it had felt like years . The planet now was what Thule suspected to be hell . Also the pain he endured had to be neutralized . So he became Darth Deva Thule's agony was the pain from another person not his .

 

The taskmaster returned giving everyone a small bottle of water . "Get up you scum . The work will continuo in 5 minutes drink up and then get back to work " shouted the taskmaster at them . What none of the workers knew was that the water was drugged . It gave the worker much more strength and they could work longer but it was very bad for the the kidneys and lungs because it slowly disintegrates them .

 

So Deva and the other slaves again moved stones and slowly the base for the new temple became reality ...

[Keenava Dira]

The ride was pleasant, quiet; an unnerving invitation for corrupt suspicions that pushed the Twi'lek's head side to side quickly. She was lodged between several other pathetic humanoids, but their stench was a pungent nostalgic blight upon Lallu's shallow memory. Harsh images of barbed whips, iron bloodied shackles and chains flashed, imprinting themselves thinly on her retina, looming over her in opaque mockery of her present "freedom".

 

Then the rocky, turbulent procession heralded by their metal prison, halted upon sturdy ground and the herd was lead by their necks slowly out into clean air. Lallu remained inside the ship for a moment or two, but was yelled at none the less. A rather large, disgusting wretch came up to Lallu with a harsh voice consisting of nothing but grunts and rasps.

 

"You... Trash! Get your ARSE out here! NOW!" croaked the bloated taskmaster followed by a sound that sharply clipped the vital pangs of the front of Lallu's right shoulder.

 

Her head turned violently with a snarl pushing the limits of her expression and although her original intention consisted of half rational actions, she growled at the man and lept at him with a knife brazened in her left hand. The Twi'lekk didn't speak words that left empty meaning; the act was enough; harsh and swift, but before her armament could meet the limb of her assailant, the color of the world began to fade. Knives climbed up and down the Twi'lek's spine destroying what nerve endings were left and burned into her consciousness. She slumped to the mud which swelled to catch her; her thoughts melted into the brown fixture and darkness finally consumed her eyes. Her muscles softened and her body lay limp on the ground...

 

Darkness... The plague of light...

 

However silent she may have rested though, all around Lallu bustled with a raucous array of several beating motions. Her body was tossed to and fro in favor of impatience, but their hands were at fault and they cared not.

 

A larger muscled taskmaster of rather sickly design came to the pair of taskmasters who were jointly beating on the twi'lekk to get her to wake, but with no further progress. "Wha' is goin doun ere' boys?" belched the figure in a pretentious rasp.

 

"This 'ere Twi got a little stabby, so I came and struck 'er down with a stun stick. I think I migh' uh struck 'er a little 'ard though." replied the skinniest of the three that stood kicking, digging his right foot into the Twi'lekk's lower back.

 

The larger, muscular, rotund individual walked over to the rag-doll Twi'lek draped on the ground and picked her up with one arm by the scruff of her neck. "If ye behave like an animal, were gonna treat ye like one..." he said as he looked across Lallu's hollow expression. The blubbery cretin turned her over a little on the broadside of his arm and found a large scabbed blackish area in about the region of the Twi's spine. "Teh 'ell you hit 'er hard enough. Go get a collar and stun 'er again, that should wake 'er up and don't be wasting your time on such a useless piece of crap next time..." scoffed the large man as he tossed Lallu back into the muddy ground.

 

Sputters.... Incoherence...

 

With the time that inevitably crept by, Lallu spent her preoccupation with nothing to console her aside from her own subtle thoughts, most of which didn't seem comfortable in this state of stagnancy.

 

Stagnancy is weakness...

 

Her mind reeled while remaining stoic, hungered for activity while resting and craved knowing what the future would hold although she could not possibly conceive what might have happened next. Mud pulsed beneath her and she could feel its beat as steps closed further toward her; her mind worked even as she lay and nearly exploded when another surge of energy swirled through her back hacking her up like a blender of razor blades. This time, her eyes fluttered back to reality, the planet of mysteries opening back into her open mind and two ugly slobs standing over her now sore body with grins so wide their mouths could have doubled over.

 

The Twi'lek sneered once more, but saw that she had very limited neck movement. Her eyes, out of curiosity, probed the item below her chin and although she couldn't feel it with her eyes, her fingers were already stroking the dura-steel metal collar that had been added to her neck. "Why you give pretty collar to me?" asked Lallu with nothing, but the purest sense of suspicion behind her ruby red eyes.

 

The men laughed a little as they whipped Lallu's back, ripping flesh from bone, pushing her into yet another menacing frenzy; her eyes glowed slightly and her head charged with thoughts of undying vengeance toward the blobs affronting her, but this time the area beneath her chin lit up and a normal function of her brain was pierced through before it could process correctly. The pain was not of consequence due to her numb fashion, but her intentions changed regardless. The twi'lekk giggled slightly with an odd countenance and the taskmasters' faces changed lightly to accommodate for the weird reaction. Both men turned their heads to meet each other's eyes with disturbing messages passing through them, but they pushed her still. One of the two ran off to join another team of slaves that were milling about, but the particular pudgy individual that she met and consequently almost stabbed stared back at the black Twi with disgust. "GET MOVING YOU LOUT" he barked with an emphasis bled by his whip. "MOVE!... We lost good time waking you up wastrel, now go take your place and push those stones" he indicated with a stressed layer of abuse laden instruction and an obese arm.

 

Lallu looked in the direction indicated at the pitiful creatures she would be associating herself with and moved towards the crowd with a halfhearted pace. Their pallor was grave and their gazes felt strange upon the sides of Lallu's body, but with no real overt explanation or introductions, she began pushing, feeling her porous hands against the cold muddy rock. Her feet anchored as much as they could and her head pushed forward as the rest of her body tensed and proceeded at a good even pace. Her muscles flexed one by one and the flexibility of her physical conditioning came into check many times as she seemed to slacken at times between rocks. There was no reprieve from the constant barbs that slashed her will and pushed her over her own limits, but from her hate came a static retribution that soon discharged her will to fight back.

 

Time grew callous in its waning integrity, but Lallu managed to find small things to entertain her wandering attention. To keep her body trained on where and how fast everything was going, her eyes wandered and followed the pathetic souls assigned in her huddle. One of them was a small girl of Zabrack origin, but her nubby little horns did little to slacken the girl's innocence. Lallu could see the horror filled expression and the deep troubles the girl adjacent to her felt as she pushed the stone along with her parents whose effort could be written across their entire sweat laden bodies. Seeing the slave inertly offered the Twi'lekk a small sense of empathy, but with an illusion passing over the small child, transforming her frail form into a black skinned youngster with long lekku, Lallu felt a great deal more attached to her than she had been before.

Yes.... She reminds you of someone does she?

 

However, when Lallu's thoughts strained her nostalgic retention, her body drew away from the rock for outside of a second. This may have seemed okay to her conscious ideals and comfort, but one moment, even one moment drawing breath, brought the whip to usher in another bout of barbed physical scarring as though it were anal retentive, forcing the Twi'lek's back into an all familiar arch. By now Lallu paid the whip's harsh tension little mind because Lallu, who had been whipped a three hundredth time, was still pushing as hard a she could. Granted, Lallu's efforts were of a significant difference than when she started, but she still managed. Given time though the others around her started to moan louder and louder, echoing their anguish off of the mud bowl's liquid walls, their aching joints drawing their pursuits in dire misdirection and pushing them to the ground in duress.

 

Their lot is a weak one.

 

Even the slaves with Lallu had begun to slack on their work, leaving the Twi'lekk to push almost alone and bear the punishment of them all. It wasn't her intention nor her desire to be the subject of so much derision, but her hate boiled infinitely higher as the slob continued his push behind her.

 

"Try to stab me and see if I let you off the hook huh?" gasped the porkish master as he wobbled trying to catch up behind the lot. "What business would a female Twi have doing anything but work huh?" laughed the man with the whip as he approached Lallu in mid push to see her sweating brow. A clear line of muscles lay in the female's arms that surpassed that of the assailing male and although her compliance was tested with her collar, the Twi'lekk reached out and bit the right ear off of her taskmaster and spat it to the ground. The Twi'lek received a lavish fireworks display around her neck, but it did nothing except stop brain functions when that one had already come and gone. Then, as if nothing at all had happened, Lallu kept pushing the rock until it too was in place.

 

The little girl who'd been watching the ordeal walked up to Lallu after their job was done and asked why she bit the man's ear off. and Lallu simply replied, "he deserved it..."

 

The rotund master was rolling about on the muddy ground for a few minutes consumed in the sheer pain of it all, but as his lot was aligned with the Sith he could take the feeling when it came and recoiled from the blight in minutes, fire in his eyes. Lallu and the slaves with her were done with their first task and although her task master felt like ripping her head off, he just settled on whipping them more.

 

"You bit off my GORAM EAR!!! you stupid Twi'lek wench! Now line up here you rotters and wait for your next orders." He called out to them within inches of their faces, "and as for you," he said with a rather nasty smile directed toward Lallu, "I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer..."

 

Lallu's face lay unchanged and the grin that played across it was ever more menacing than the putrid counterpart that the man cooked up. She was looking forward to the day in which she could slaughter her taskmaster. The image was vivid in her mind and would occupy her until the next task was chosen...

[Samuel Reilly]

As Samuel stepped from the ramp leading to the new planet, he allowed his senses to take in all the information they could gather. His eyes darted across the landscape, the first thing he noticed was the giant mudpit near the landing site. All around the pit, he watched as slaved moved quickly, yet without life, to their stations. Inside he cringed at the thought that the use of slaves still existed. On Christphosis, slavery had been outlawed long before his birth. He knew it still existed of course, but he had never witnessed such a large gathering. Allowing his eyes to move away, he noticed a single figure in the middle of the pit. Focusing all his attention on that man, his vision seemed to approive significantly and he could see the layers of mud caked on his clothing, the sweat dropping from the mans brow. Samuel could tell the man was tired, exhausted from some labor. The young warrior could only imagine what he had been doing.

 

After listening to the taskmaster hand out orders, Samuel turned his attention once more to the man in the middle of the pit. At first he seemed like just another one of the slave drivers, but it seemed his authority was almost that of a god among the slaves. The way they looked at him and the way they spoke of him conveyed their fear of him. Samuel knew this was the man with whom he needed to speak. If he was truly of importance among the Sith, then he would know where the three Sith who slaughtered his family would be. As the rest of the slaves made their way toward the large cropping of rocks, Samuel began to make his way towards the middle of pit. From nowhere, one of the taskmasters stoof before him. While most of those who handled slaves were obese, smelly, and ugly, this one was different. His long golden hair was carefully groomed, his tan skin was smooth and unblemished. His sapphire blue eyes would almost convey a sense of mercy, if it wasn't for the evil fire burning beneath them. His clothing suggested money, but it was money earned through the sweat and blood of thousands of slaves. The man held his arms crossed on his chest, showing his apparent superiority to Samuel. As he spoke, he spoke with refinement that had been bought over several years. Samuel knew had his own parents lived longer, he himself would have such a refined speech.

 

”œWhere do you think you are going slave? You should really help the others with those stones.”

[Cleric]

Emotion started to fill the young man like he couldn't explain. Sith To have a title, a group, a body of people to belong to was more then what Derrik had ever wanted from his little cargo crate. This was the chance for the boy to do something amazing with his life and perhaps make his dent. He followed Arcanis with a proud and eager walk, trying hard not to aggravate his leg so much as to land him in a medical wing for any amount of time. These were people you could show nothing to otherwise they would leave you for some one else to pick up. Perhaps self motovation is what it took to go places. He was never allowed to think for himself back home with his little ragtag group of people.

 

"Yes, I am quite ready..."

 

The trip would be almost more then he was willing to bear. He could do nothing but think of what he would see, learn and even do.

 

Power

 

It was simple as that. The choice of what to do with it and even more the ability to make his own choices...perhaps not at first while he was taught but oneday he'd be his own man with his own agenda. Perhaps someday he'd be able to take on people and teach them what he knew and what they needed to make themselves feel like they were apart of something bigger then themselves.

 

"Sir...I have something you might want...that Jedi gave me this and i'm fairly sure it was for honest reasons, but ones that I dont need." Derrik held out the small transponder that was given to him but a short time ago. "I had thought about keeping it and perhaps giving it as a present once I understood more to someone who could find a use for it. Then I thought it might not be good if it goes off and he brings some friends. Please accept this gift as a thankyou for accepting me into the world which i'm about to embark on."[/i]

[Torin]

Watching the Master walk away into the muddy field, Torin contemplated what he had seen in the vision. Julio's invasion of his mind had answered several questions, but in cliche fashion had raised many more.

 

Seemingly disinterested, Torin turned from Julio and merged into the crowd of slaves. There were several here with potential. The Force gathered around these infants, calling out for cultivation, but as Julio had ordered, Torin ignored the more unique individuals and spent his time standing atop one of the ten large stones, overseeing the slaves' progress. Numerous times he had to reach out with a tendril, wrapping his hatred around a meat's neck, flinging the worker to the ground and halting the group's progress. Occassionally such actions were a result of lazy efforts on the slaves' parts, but more than once Torin attacked to simply remind the peons of their master's presence.

 

From the corner of his electronic eye Torin glimpsed a headstrong slave, refusing to follow directions. It would not help this individual that he was acquaintanced with the overseeing Sith Lord. Torin's black cloak and hood dropped from his shoulders revealing his gruesome appearance and shocking many of the naive slaves.

 

"Tobias," Torin lurched out of his mangled throat as he pounced through the air, hitting the ground in stride. His feet moved with lightning quick speed towards the wannabe apprentice, propelling the Sith into the apprentice shoulder first, knocking the Kiffar to the ground.

 

"Embrace the wounds of your folly," Torin said as his metal lekku stretched out of nothingness wrapping around Tobias's neck, lifting the boy into the air. Torin's black, forked tongue licked the air, jetting out between his front teeth tickling Tobias's nose.

 

"You want to strike me down, don't you? You want to break free don't you?" Torin's metal face seemed to smile. "But you can't! That is your first lesson. Your only option is to do precisely as I tell you, and right now I say work. Move the stone."

 

Torin reached out and grabbed Tobias's right hand. "Give me this ring."

 

The word 'give' implied a request, but Torin's voice made it very clear he was demanding the treasure.

 

((I will try to get to the rest of you in my next post))

[Darth Furion]

((Nice try Malin.))

 

Sparks skimmed across the surface of the transponder before it could ever be put to use. As the thin coils of smoke drifted in the air and the harsh scent of burnt plastic and silicon intruded upon the noses of those in close proximity, questions arose and remained unanswered as to why this happened and how. Never the less, what was once given as a gift was now destroyed, its intended use lost in the broken pieces in the boy's hands.

 

((Edit: Your work isn't over with yet guys. The order was not for a single post, but a story. Keep going until told otherwise. I've given you the reigns for your own sub stories here because I want to see what you can do with such creative freedom, who your characters are, your writing style. From your posts, I'm taking away my judgments of what kind of players you are, and if you're even worth teaching. Let's see some effort.))

[Tobias Vos]

Tobias had his head turned when something ran into him. It was unexpected and Tobias cursed himself as he fell to the ground. Everyone was messing with him today. But this one. This one would pay. Enough with this hitting him and getting away with it.

 

The mud splashed up around his face. It was cold but his upper lip felt hot. Whoever it was had made his nose bleed. But before he started to even get up or even move a metallic feeling wrapped around his neck. This would not do. His hands immediately went to his throat, he was getting angry. Lifted up into the air the breath in his body started to escape. The Kiffar inhaled sharply and held that breath. He then saw who it was that was holding him up. Torin. Another spark of hatred.

 

Tobias's hands dug into Torin's lekku as a grimace of hatred washed across his face.

"You want to strike me down, don't you? You want to break free don't you? But you can't! That is your first lesson. Your only option is to do precisely as I tell you, and right now I say work. Move the stone."

 

But you can't!

 

But you can't!

 

Those words echoed in Tobias's head. He realized he was still nothing more than a slave to them. No. He was more than a frakin slave. His body burned with hatred. Anger fueled his muscles. Adrenaline started to be pumped into his body. Tobias ran his hands across the lekku around his throat, looking for a weak spot. But it was all metal wherever he touched.

 

Then Torin reached out and grasped Tobias's right hand.

"Give me this ring."

"Give me this ring. But you can't!" Echoed in his mind thousands of times in just a few seconds.

 

Tobias's eyes started to turn color, a deep hue of purple. As he connected eyes with Torin, deep down inside him he had hoped that he realized he was better than his "peers" Tobias gripped the metal around his neck and screamed out, he had pulled the lekku just as far enough to breath. This new oxygen that entered his system fueled his muscles. Combined with the adrenaline and the anger the new oxygen allowed him to warp the metal lekku ever so slightly. His grip was slipping and he pulled even harder. Tobias was silent now, breathing heavily he glared at Torin. Anger seeped from every pore of his body. Fueling his strength he loosened the metal tail far enough.

 

Tobias dropped to the ground, he took a breath as his feet splashed down in the mud. His eyes were fading back to their original color. Tobias knew he didn't damage Torin's lekku barely any. Reaching with his left hand he peeled the ring from his finger off and offered it to Torin.

 

He then reached up and dusted off some of the died mud and blood from his face with his free hand. His body heat had made it harden in just a few minutes, but it wasn't enough as a fresh drop of blood trickled down the right side of his face.

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

((Ah ok but to make you aware at some point after the initial training and he has completed his latest job Slicer said he'll take me))

 

 

Much to Lucifer's discomfort his task was not over, nor had it barely begun. Looking to the man at the centre the kiffar noticed how he held himself above the rest, such arrogance that seemed to hold everyone else in nothing but contempt, or so it would seem.

 

Lucifer ever the former inquisitor noted with his mechanical eye how among one of the other groups another kiffar was held aloft most likely due to his own misfortunes by Twi'lek who appeared to have metallic looking lekku's extending from where should have been flesh, obviously a result of a past conflict or training either way his eyes spoke more than his voice ever could for in him Lucifer could see the rage that drove his every grimace, such malice it seemed to echo from him in the force and speak out as if some prehistoric beast unleashed unto a unfamiliar world.

 

The moment was to last long however when his observation was quickly interupted by the very same taskmaster who had seen fit to invade his flesh before.

 

''WHAT ARE YOU GAWKIN AT!? GET TO WORK YOUR NOT DONE YET SLAVE!''

 

Slave...that was what summed up just what Lucifer had become and was made even more evident by the sudden sting of the protuding barbs from the taskmaster's whip, indendting somewhat into his flesh at an angle before being unceremoniously ripped free leaving the exposed flesh to soak in the rain and only increasing the pain as Lucifer's blood stained the mud. Yet within the kiffar lay a strength he would not bend so easily to the will of such a low lifeform, he would not be a slave to be pushed around or ignored, no he would bide his time and take the life from the man who seemed to hold himself above the other slaves, taskmaster or not this man would die by his hand no matter the consequance for he was empowered to be something more than the mere human could ever be, he was a god walking among the living and soon his potential would be recognised.

 

The taskmaster let out a toothless grin as he looked upon the helpless group of slaves whipping the flesh from their back and priding himself with each coil.

 

''Move that Stone!''

 

Lucifer looked upon him his anger brewing just below the surface, gently simmering and ready to ignite at the kiffar's command. Yet again the taskmaster saw fit to make an example of Lucifer who he seemed to have a natural hate for, it was as if he had chosen the kiffar as his pet, his target, how he was soon to be disappointed for this was one man he would not make a mockery of, one slave who would not bend to his whip like some festering rabid animal.

 

Within moments the sound of his whip as it lashed back could be heard however this time something had changed...there was no sound of the barbs hitting flesh, instead the taskmaster found that Lucifer had grabbed his whip from his hand and wrapped in around his neck letting the barbs dig into his flesh until he bled letting the moist red of his blood decorate the floor below him.

 

The kiffar spoke his voice full of hate and of malice,

 

''How the tide has turned...I shall not be your pet to torment, an animal to bend to your whims like the countless others who have fallen to your whip. I am something more than you could ever be, I walk with the power of the god's and you are nothing but a mere mortal! Now let me demonstrate what becomes of mortals who think they can tame the god's will and bend them to the whip.''

 

With a sudden jerk Lucifer pulled until the man's head rolled neatly onto the ground landing in a puddle of blood and mud as his flesh seperated leaving a grin of satisafaction upon Lucifer at his latest victim, the other slaves all seemed to look on out of either fear or awe for the one who had rebelled against the natural order. Although within moments more men wielding whips and stun batons came upon Lucifer, the whips finding their mark when they held the kiffar at the wrist digging into his flesh while the batons smashed into his knees forcing him to buckle almost instantly.

 

A replacement was quickly found for the dead man as his body was dragged off by a group of men, Lucifer meanwhile despite his struggle could barely move as another taskmaster approached, whip in hand ready to teach his lesson, although to Lucifer it was teaching him something entirely different than what was intended, slowly his resistance was increasing, his threshold to pain improving.

 

''So we got one who got the better of old Flai, think you are something do you well we'll soon see about that!''

 

Within moments Lucifer could feel the sting it was like a thousand scorpions all digging into his skin at once as each strike hit rending flesh from bone upon his back, yet his eyes looked upon his captors with rage knowing someday he would return and seek his vengeance for this, in the end they would know the pain they inflicted was not without incident, they would soon see the results of their folly. After 10 fresh scars were forever imprinted upon his flesh Lucifer rejoined the mindless rabble of slaves before continuing the task of moving the remainder of the stones, Lucifer thought on it a moment finding that perhaps leaving Byss was not the best idea given his current predicament however that moment soon passed when he felt the now all too familiar whip thrashing at his back and laserating his flesh with equal vigour.

Edited January 25, 2010 by Guest

[Guest]

Deva felt weaker the longer he worked . It wasn't the normal feeling you had after working hard . He felt with every breath he took that he got less air then with the previous one . Also he realized that he wasn't exhausted a little bit . He took a glance at the taskmaster smirking at a slave that had just started to suffocate ."Hey you ( he pointed at Deva ) get this guy up to the medics they'll patch him up ". Deva didn't react until a sharp pain across his back forced him to turn around and follow his orders .

 

On the top of the pit a temporary hospital had been built to treat the slaves ( not all only those one whom the drug had been tested) . The man was laid down onto a table and a hooded figure injected the slave and Deva with a strange green liquid . It wasn't designed to annihilate the drug but to slow the process down.

 

 

When he returned a girl was being punished ."Come on , you don't want to please me so you're going to be hit and punished by me till you want to heheahahahaahehehehe " At that point a sharp rock cut a gaping hole into the throat of the man . Deva stood there his hand streaked out . He was the one who had thrown the stone .

 

Two other taskmasters got there neither of those two were force sensitive Deva could feel that but he knew he was in for a grave punishment . Even if he had followed the primary sith rule "Use your hatred to become more powerful " . By killing that taskmaster he ( Deva ) had shown him ( the master ) and the other slaves that taskmasters could be killed just as easily as any other living being .

 

A few hours later in a cell in the newly finished base of the temple :

Deva had been tied against a wall and the taskmasters had take it in turn to hit him with their whips and stunning sticks . But he hadn't crumbled nor bought he had stood there upright until the taskmaster had got bored and left . Suddenly Deva sensed something Torin was approaching he could feel the dark presence emanating from Torin . So he waited for the even more severe punishing to come ...

[darth shadowlord]

Draken spun around quickly, his eyes finding the one that had struck down a taskmaster. He marked the one and followed the taskmasters to where they had tied the slave and watched as they beat him with their whips. As the last task master went to leave, Draken caught him by the throat and stopped him up short. His words to the taskmaster were not heard by the slave but when his hand released the task master, the overseer bowed deeped and called to two other guards who untied the slave (Deva) and brought him to the center of the area.

 

The other slaves and apprentices were forced to gather around the area and watch the public punishment being dealt to the apprentice by the Sith Master known as Arcanus. "So you don't think it is your place to obey what you were told and have seen fit to murder those we have placed in charge?" He turned and looked at the rest of the slaves and apprentices that were gathered before turning back to Deva. "As one who would cause dissent within the order against those who are place in charge of these tasks by the Masters of your order, then you shall be punished and marked."

 

He focused for the briefest of moment and placed both of his hands on the slaves head and unleashed a nightmare into the man's head, a nightmare that would force the man to relive his greatest fear over and over again. Then he reached into his cloak and removed a large evil looking curved dagger that was afire with cursed fire and carved the word Dissenter into the man's forehead where the wound would finally heal but would bear the mark of dissent on his forehead forever as a bold scar.

 

When it was done, he turned to the remaining of the slaves and looked them over carefully. "The next one of you that tries something like this will not receive the leniency that this slave has received. Instead his soul shall be used in the building of this temple!"

 

((OCC Deva, your task for your next post is to write your nightmare in as vivid detail as you can, preferably 300-650 words.))

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Just as another lash of the whip found it's mark Lucifer was forced along with the other slaves to watch as one of the other apprentices, a human male being dragged to the centre of the mud pit and made an example of by one of the higher ranked sith who were present, a man whom Lucifer had not met before... he marked the word 'Dissenter' after making the man undergo some kind of inner torture, the pain was obvious through his expression not that this bothered the kiffar in the slightest for to him this human was a nobody, just someone who was foolish enough to be caught in the act.

 

Listening to the sith lord at the centre Lucifer made a choice made more simple by the exhibition he had just seen...survival over his pride. For now he would continue to work, bide his time and wait taking whatever his taskmaster would throw at him. It was ironic really, that despite the pain of the whip Lucifer felt invigorated almost, as if he were becoming stronger for his torment, he could almost feel the darkside pulsating within himself literally increasing with each stroke as the barbs dug into his skin, yet still the taskmaster continued his savage vendetta against him treating the kiffar as some common slave.

 

''YOU HEARD THE MASTER! MOVE THAT STONE AND IF ANY OF YOU EVEN SO MUCH AS LOOK AT ME WRONG I'LL WHIP YOU UNTIL THE MUD TURNS RED NOW GET IT MOVING SCUM!''

 

Lucifer toiled for what seemed like days as hour after hour passed him by, yet still he kept his resolve, still he refused to submit in full. Scar after scar appeared upon the man's flesh a clear sign of just how much the taskmaster enjoyed his craft of inflicting pain upon any unfortunate enough to be under his whip. there was no rest, no breaks, no stopping...no escape. Slave and apprentice were treated alike and given the same treatment ever under the watchful gaze of their sith masters making sure everything was as it should be.

 

Lucifer could feel the strain of the stones as he moved each one the sheer weight of it keeping the immense bulk from shifting too quickly. Putting his weight behind the stone Lucifer found a hidden strength finding that when focusing his anger he would push the stone faster than before, yet here wtihin this mud pit he felt he did not belong, he was destined for something greater than the life offered to those whom he toiled with, this was just an exercise as he viewed it...a simple temporary drawback.

[Keenava Dira]

"What are you smiling at you piece of shit?" blubbered the bloated taskmaster as the nub left by his missing ear continued to pour its remnants to the cold wet ground, "is something about this funny to you?" he repeated in a similar fashion, although his once rock like stance seemed to waver under blood loss.

 

Silence filled the air for a few moments, stillness prolonging its existence as the slaves around Lallu cowered in fear, shriveling under their rags like little rodents. Their small pearl eyes were fixed on the abominable giant bearing his pronged whip and cringed as though his strike had already begun, but the task master hadn't moved. His eyes were trained on Lallu and her eyes were on his. "So how about it b*%&$! You going to answer me or just stand there looking stupid?" the master incriminated through large boisterous discourse.

 

Lallu looked away for a moment as the words sunk in, but gave barely a repeated glance in his direction when a sudden and inaudible snap of consciousness blew past her struggling innocence. The Twi'lek stood, the black skin of her back glistening with macabre delight, but her eyes - of a ruby glint - started to glow faintly. The switch was hard to measure, but the behavior the Twi'lek exhibited was extraordinarily different than before. Her eyes sharpened their gaze and then her distance between her and the task master closed rapidly.

 

Her footfalls were trained and small, but once the distance between her and the taskmaster was within slapping distance, the Twi'lek's procession stopped and only her sharp stare burned into the man's chest as he towered over her by at least a quarter of a meter. "So you want to play do you?" stated the taskmaster as his options at this distance grew rather limited. "Since we are finished with our first checkpoint, I suppose I could teach you a lesson before the next."

 

Without more words the taskmaster smiled and withdrew a crusty looking knife from its sheath around his left hip. Then, the tub of what seemed like fat began massaging the whip's handle underneath his calloused hands and pressing the hilt of his knife against his fingers, prepping it for use in a sort of unholy retribution. Lallu's only preparation lay in her eyes and stance; her feet and legs despite their fatigue became fluid and her arms drew in a great deal of control from the rest of her body. The Taskmaster had no idea what she was doing and looked on with no particular interest. It didn't take long though for the master's patience to run for rash action; his eyes scanned the Twi'lek and as she moved, she left an open spot right about her lower abdomen. Launching across the small area for a quick lunge, his justice became clear when a small incision was struck on the Twi'lek's head, but her feet movement prevented the bulk of the attack.

 

As the knife came, Lallu's mind and body physically adapted to the contour of the negative space around the slave driver and she took up the space behind him through a creative evasive maneuver. The task master looked rather dumbfounded at his folly, but was bent on striking til his bloody vengeance was achieved. Once again however his efforts were foiled as Lallu fled left and right, doing her best to avoid each and every attack that was used against her. The confrontation moved behind the set of stones they had placed so as not to catch much attention, but the master searched for a share of attention regardless. When his exhaustion doubled and his legs almost collapsed from too much work, he started panting at an accelerated pace and volume to hopefully draw someone else to assist.

 

The black Twi'lek, whose chest was also moving up and down rapidly, took a few deep breaths and sauntered to the bulb of flesh that bobbled on the ground. Her hand, in its grizzled and now calloused beauty, reached down toward the man's throat and pushed his larynx further to the ground violently. The collar tried to work, but something odd was occurring as her ”œrighteous”

[Darth Furion]

Christened in mud, a man waded amidst the grotesque ocean of flesh, putrid and festering. Everyone was washed in their own stinking filth, their matted hair pasted to their skin with the day's labor. These were lifelong slaves, he noticed as he wove through the stench and meat. Bodies lined the makeshift roads, but none wept for their fallen. Blood flowed from fierce gashes, yet pain was not present in their faces, or the tensity of their muscles. They were just weary. Weary and detached. This can't be my life. It's someone else's, echoed through the mind of many. Where hope was lost, denial was found. They couldn't escape with their lives, so they escaped into the secluded recesses of their minds, lost to this world and the pain it brought. Over the years their spirits had simply extinguished, the vital fuel of a caring and nurturing society completely deprived to them. As thousands they were one, as one they were nothing, an assurance drilled into them with each flick of the wrist and crack of the whip. Surrounded, they were alone. No one could help them, no one could connect with them on any real level. Any sign of compassion, or any activity outside the outlined work was punished severly, yet never to death. Oh, how they all prayed for death. Each and every time they left their own private oblivion and found lucidity once again.

 

He couldn't help but hate them, the pathetic fools they were, but the Sith found himself struck with a schism of feeling, as he often found himself so divided. They were weak, long given up on life, mere shells of the men and women they once were, yet they personified his struggle so well it was hard to connect with them on some level. They were chained to their labor, their lives and all promise it offered robbed by those who would tell them what to do.

 

Passing through the crowds, he offered a calming touch to those he brushed against. Fear not, he eased into their hearts, bringing complacency to those close to the brink. Your freedom will be yours again soon. I promise. He didn't say it, but his eyes said it better than any words could have. It was a lie, of course, but one the Sith felt compelled to tell. Part of him cared, the other part hated himself for it. Why should he care? The Order, but more relevantly He needed this temple. He needed their sweat, their blood, their very lives, and he would get what he needed. His path was right, it was straight, unobstructed and righteous, and nothing would stop him. By comparison, their lives ultimately meant nothing. If they meant anything they would be delivered, freed through their own will or the fates, and set on the same path Julio was. But he knew this was not the case. They existed to serve and die.

 

He continued to float along the tide of flesh, for that's all it was now. He had thrown the apprentices in with this lot in hopes that they would see this struggle for themselves, get some perspective, but that had failed. Several acts of violence had already occurred at their hands. Maybe that's all they were right now? Violent, confused children, lashing out at whatever frightened them, or what they simply didn't understand. If there was a lesson to be had here, it was completely lost on them. Julio sneered, suddenly furious at himself. No, not himself, these cretins, these self proclaimed hopefuls. How dense...

 

His work was cut out for him.

 

Walking back to the middle of the muddy pit, Julio lashed out, snapping the closest slaves neck with a flick of the wrist. It didn't help to stifle his anger, but it helped to distract him for a time. Truly, masochism at its finest.

 

Lord Torin, he seethed, reaching past the countless, meaningless lives to touch the Twi'lek Sith, making no attempt at masking his fury. Take these whelps on a march. I think the mountains look rather pleasant this time of year, don't you? The voice inside Torin's head, even through the Force, felt as if it came through gritted teeth.

 

((Torin, check your PMs))

[Torin]

White caps topped the distant grey mountains that Torin's eyes turned to, viewing the monoliths as an opportunity to further his own training. This would be an exercise for himself, strengthening his own weaknesses and refining his talents. Meanwhile, he would drag the whelps behind.

 

"Follow me," he said, his voice amplifying and reaching the ears of those he considered to be the chosen. He reached out with is hatred to the minds of those he could feel had potential, physically dragging them away from their bondage. Oblivion had once done the same for him, rebirthing Torin, altering his shape into something useful. Hate and anger still dominated Torin's memory of Oblivion, but he was thankful for the man's wisdom that the now Sith Lord had used to free himself from mediocrity.

 

Oblivion's gift had not been selfless, however, and neither was this opportunity being given to these new slaves. Torin had sensed the feeling in Julio's words. These hopefuls would be exactly what they were, slaves. Julio had every intention, as did Torin, of using these beings as tools, weapons to be wielded for the master's benefit. The Force had not revealed to Torin if any of these new arrivals would fulfill their true potential, freeing themselves of bondage as he had done, but he would give them the tools to do so, only driving them as far as he needed to. What would happen after his preparations was up to them.

 

The chosen quickly separated themselves from the other slaves, and he could feel their pride and fear. Each one was relieved to be chosen, but were all wise, recognizing their reward was nothing of the sort.

 

There was one contestant that stood out to Torin, and it disappointed him that it was not one of his own apprentices. Instead it was a female, a Twi'lek like himself. It was not their racial similarity that made her ((Lallu)) stand out however, that fact disgusted him; the way she freely flung her thick lekku around was repulsive. It was what he saw with his infrared vision that truly interested him: a burning fire, one that he would soon attempt to extinguish in an effort to intensify its power. He buried these emotions deep down, hiding his knowledge of her potential.

 

He turned towards the hills with his cloak following swiftly behind, snapping in the wind. His right hand rose out of the black cloth and his fingers snapped. One of the chosen near the front of the group fell to the ground, dead.

 

"Failed to follow the path to freedom," Torin said referring to the deceased that the others would now be forced to step over. "Move!"

 

((A few of you post. This is a good chance for character development. I will post the groups progress and will place individual obstacles in your way for you to overcome. Keep up and satisfy our commands or something terrible will happen to you. ))

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Hour after hour passed as each day became night before finally the strain of the whip became almost unbearable, yet still Lucifer had carried on his hatred for the taskmaster having grown with each strike of the whip until finally the whip's were halted as he was dragged from the crowd of gathered slaves to be palced with another group, made of others like himself who were rebels in their own right and trouble most likely...he looked them over carefully analyzing strengths and weaknesses before thinking to himself that should they get in his way he would make them aware of their mistake, most painfully.

 

Lucifer cared little as before for the sack of meat who dropped deceased in front of him and the others, for he was but an obstacle removed one less barrier preventing the kiffar from his destiny and the power he craved. Following at a marched pace Lucifer followed the man called Torin keeping pace not far behind him leaving those who fell behind to their own fate, he would not stop like some lowly hermit for those who lacked the will to keep going. Each foot crunching down on the mud before finding softer ground outside the pit. Looking ahead Lucifer could see the mountains knowing this would be no walk in the park, for the darkside came with a hefty price however for the moment at least he was no longer treated like some weaker minded fool or a slave, he was treated as his gift was implied to suggest....that he held power.

[Torin]

Torin abrubtly stopped marching. He had been about twenty yards ahead of the slaves, his black tunic soaring behind him in the wind linking him to his prisoners like a thick black chain.

 

"You think you have power?" he asked, turning to Lucifer, a human following the closest behind him. Torin had been listening closely to the minds of the hikers, and to this point Lucifer's mind seemed the most ambitious.

 

"Why not demonstrate your power?"

 

Torin motioned with his hand implying that the space between Lucifer and him was open for Lucifer's use.

 

"Please, show me what makes your life significant. I am eager to see your talents displayed."

 

The Sith Lord's eyes flickered in anticipation for the slave's next move.

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Lucifer stopped abruptly behind Torin as he came to a halt demanding that the kifffar demonstrate his unique talent, it seemed the man had read Lucifer's mind by some unknown means and interpreted what he heard.

 

The kiffar gave his honest opinion, ''To a degree we all do, potential power hidden within each of us was my thought of the moment, power I wish to advance to heightened levels. However given I have little choice in the matter I shall demonstrate a little of what I was taught before my former master went missing.''

 

With that moment Lucifer focused remembering his former master's words letting the darkside envelope him until an aura came about as some kind of invisible black mist were over his entire body. Continuing his focus using all his hate, malice and distain for the twi'lek who stood before him he made the force into a somewhat physical reaction. As he spoke his voice boomed much like a very loud echo as a Force Scream ensued, deafening all nearby and very nearly defeaning Torin himself while sending the debris along the path flying in all directions at significant speed, suffice to say anyone caught in the way would find several rocks imbedded into their skin much like bullets entering a corpse such were the forces at work, large and small flew outwards as the dust from the path blew upwards and out with the debris.

 

Once the display was over with Lucifer looked to Torin trying to gauge his opinion on what had just happened, whether he liked it or not Lucifer cared little even if it was not to the man's standards soon he would prove otherwise once his real training began. While it wasn't nearly as powerful as it could have gotten, Lucifer had made sure to keep the size minimal as to not kill the sith lord and himself in the blast, it was enough to leave a sizeable indentation crater within the road where the two stood while all else appeared to now be barren of life or rocks.

 

Lucifer waited for Torin's reply...

[Torin]

Hatred and ambition seeped out of Lucifer, drenching the pure world around them with dark taint. Torin's electronic eyes stared straight into the eyes of the young apprentice, soaking up the feeling as if it fueled his own power while reminding him of a former experience.

 

The thick juicy steak tickled and enticed Torin's taste buds drawing water into his mouth to the point that saliva leaked out of his lips and dripped off of his grey, fleshy skin. He looked up at Oblivion nearly smiling. This task would be too easy. He never wanted to stop eating this meal.

 

The last morsel of steak disappeared into Torin's gullet leaving a bloody juice on the plate that Torin quickly slurped up. "Good," said Oblivion, "have another."

 

Another juicy steak appeared encouraging the apprentice's quick disposal of the cooked flesh, yet as soon as it too had disappeared, another just like it took its place; full of the same great flavor but not surpassing its predecessors, the third steak was just as enticing. The carnivore meant to consume this third piece had lost his appetite however, and he nearly refused to provide the same consideration to this third piece of meat as he had shown to the first. Looking into his host's eyes reminded him of his duties as a guest, and with a hesitant hand he sliced into the steak forcing a tiny bite into his mouth.

 

"No!" shouted the Sith Master, "Your feeble mind misunderstands!" Suddenly the piece of meat in Torin's mouth turned rancid, urging him to spit it out, but a force kept the slimy flesh swishing in his mouth. "EAT!" a voice screamed, and before Torin appeared a mountain of food and arms that pulled his jaw open. He would consume forever.

 

The sound of Lucifer's scream did not touch Torin's mind while his memories hurled him back in time. Instead, his former master showed him precisely how to deal with this slave. Lucifer had demonstrated a form of power, yet he had only tapped the surface of the dark side's riches, and he had failed to use his senses to test his foe. Torin's biomechanical ears had quickly shut off at the beginning of the scream's escalation. A true Sith would have known his enemy's strength, and minus a few scrapes and dusty robes, Torin stood ready to teach this lesson to Lucifer, the hard way.

 

"Most impressive," Torin said in a condescending voice, "but there is much for you to learn. Not only did you fail to recognize my strength thereby determining my weaknesses, but you held back. How sickening! When you have an opportunity you take it, you consume it."

 

Torin's hand quickly stretched out towards Lucifer sending an invisible arm out to wrap around the apprentice's neck. Torin did not squeeze however; he wanted Lucifer to be still, nothing more. Instead of the predictable force choke, Torin released a surge of frightening power from his changeless face, sending his thoughts and feelings through the already established connection and likewise sucking Lucifer's deepest fears from his mind. In a way, the Sith Lord was linking himself to Lucifer, sharing a secret, private knowledge of each other's past and present, yet being selective about the powers he revealed to Lucifer.

 

It was a particular memory that he made accessible to Lucifer's mind; a terrifying memory of pain and destruction. Teeth were ripped one by one from a useful skull, and as each one ripped away from the flesh the pain surged through Lucifer's body filling him with the experience.

 

I know your weakness, said Torin, speaking into Lucifer's mind. It's inexperience. A witch broke and jerked Lucifer's jaw away from his body, splitting tendons and muscles, leaving the ligaments dangling in cool mountain air to drip blood onto Lucifer's boots. See how I exploit your weakness? See how I'm forcing you to feel something more terrifying than you've ever imagined? Take it! Drink it! Feed off of it!"

 

Another tooth pulled away from Lucifer's gums and then a thin, ice cold hand wrapped around his tongue and yanked it out of his throat as if in an attempt to pull his bowels out through his mouth. The pain would have collapsed Lucifer's mind had Torin not willed him awake to face his foe.

 

You will swallow the pain because you must. You will consume because you must. Am I holding back now even though I know you are inexperienced? Am I holding back because you're a Sith apprentice? No. If you die you are simply another life I've consumed; you're an addition to my power, a boost to my ego if you will. I keep you alive to make you learn. Not because you have potential or power, but the ability to learn how to consume, and then use what you consume against your foe despite his strength. You had the opportunity to embrace gluttony, killing me and consuming my strength, but you refused. It is for that hesitation that you now suffer.

 

Now the dark tendril squeezed Lucifer's aching neck as a piercing tool split his eyes in two, screwed into their meaty tissue, and then plucked them from his skull. Torin felt his desire to scream and soaked in the slave's struggle, only releasing Lucifer after he had sucked the apprentice dry.

 

"Physically, you are unharmed, but remember my words. You do not have power. Even if you graduate from the rank of apprentice you will not have power. Not until you learn to act without hesitancy will you even begin to feel power."

 

Torin beat Lucifer in the head with the word power, leaving him hungry for the feeling, but too weak to strive for it immediately.

[Samuel Reilly]

Day after day Samuel felt the bite of Tremaines whip. Each time he could feel the skin being sliced from his bones. He could feel blood flowing down his back, soaking his clothes and dripping to the ground with each movement. But Samuel knew he could take it each time. Everytime the whip struck his body, its bite was less and less painful. He wondered if it was because his scars were protecting him, or he was simply loosing nerves in his back. But he never allowed Tremaine to know this. Even before the lessening of the pain, the pale warrior never gave the taskmaster the satisfaction of screaming. Every lashing, every beating, he took without showing the pain he felt. And with every assault on his body, the anger and hatred within his mind grew stronger. He vowed day after day that one day Tremaine would pay f or what he has done to Samuel, as well as the other slaves.

 

As Samuel continued to move stones around the mudpit, he heard someone call his name. Turning his focus to the man speaking his name, he noticed a Twi'lek motionin to him. Squinting his eyes, he noticed that the alien had several pieces of his body replaced by mechanical parts. His mind began to wonder what kind of fighting the alien had been through to require that much surgery. Looking back at the other slaves in his group, Samuel noticed them each nodding for him to go. Part of him wanted to remain with these slaves. They had grown as close to a family as possible over the weeks. Samuel had even taken the beatings of several of them during his time as a slave. But he could see the fear in each of their eyes, even as they motioned for him to go to the Twi'lek, obviously they knew something he didn't.

 

As he reached the damaged Twi'lek, the alien began marching into the hills on the outskirts of the mudpit. Samuel watched as the several other slaves who had been summoned began marching as well. Within moments of marching, one of the slaves in front of the group fell to his knees gasping for air before collapsing to the ground, dead. Rushing to his side, Samuel raised the mans head and checked his pulse, hoping to find some life within him. But sadly he found no pulse whatso ever. Lowering the slaves head back to the ground, Samuel knelt over the body, closing his own eyes as well as the deceased. Crossing the slaves arms over his chest, Samuel whispered an Echani prayer before rising to his own feet. Raising his gaze to meet his new taskmaster, all the anger within the Christophian could be seen burning within his gaze. Through his peripheral vision, he watched as the other slaves simply stepped over the body without giving it a second glance.But Samuel refused to do so. While there was nothing he could do for the poor soul, he could give it some respect and dignity by not walking over it. Stepping around the body, he reached the rest of the group just in time to hear a deafening scream reach his ears. He dropped to his knees covering his ears as he waited for the pain to pass. Within moments of the passin, he watched as the man apparently responsible for the attack was berated for some weakness.

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

When Lucifer tried to move he found he could not, it were as if some unknown force pinned him to the spot before forcing his head to throb with a unknown pain...and implanting images of a life not his own upon his brain.

 

These memories not his own but yet he could feel the pain as he saw within his mind every tooth, every bit of flesh being peeled back. With that moment Lucifer soon realised who's memory it was as he gritted his teeth...the twi'lek in front of him, obviously something from his past, a fear of some kind being transferred upon the kiffar and translated into pain he could literally feel, a new power he had yet to discover but with each moment learning a little more of his sith overlord...using it to find his weakness that later he may use it against the man. The pain was almost unbearable yet it was no different than the taskmaster's whip, listening to the twi'lek Lucifer came to understand what he meant and so used it, feeding off of what he felt the kiffar consumed until he could no longer feel the pain, instead it became as strength to draw upon.

 

After a few minutes of much the same the twi'lek released Lucifer and berated him, at that moment the kiffar learnt a valueble lesson one he would remember...to act without hesitancy, without mercy less you suffer for your weakness. He felt a continued throbbing for a short while as the word 'power' was drilled into his skull like a hammer was banging into it constantly, yet there was no physical action.

 

Eventually the feeling subsided as Lucifer centred himself and followed the twi'lek as the run continued after the two had finished with sidetracking, his hatred grew at the twi'lek with each moment that passed, the mere presence of him only intensifying the feeling.

[Darth Mortis Diabolus]

The Lambda-class shuttle exited hyperspace in unfamiliar territory. The planet in front of him was foreign. To be honest he didn't know the name of it. Accessing the navigation system offered no assistance either, due to some kind of interferance. DMD guessed it was a signal being transmitted from somewhere on the planet's surface or some kind of feedback generated by the strong dark side presence radiating from the planet.

 

The one thing he was sure of was that somewhere beneath him, was his apprentice. DMD had no intel on this world or it's inhabitants. He thought of hailing the local spaceport, but decided he didn't want to give his position away to potential threats. Instead, he closed his eyes and released the controls. His mind focused on the world below. DMD sifted through the countless minds he encountered, searching for only one. The mind of his apprentice.

 

"Lucifer. Your true master calls to you. Open your mind to me so that I can retrieve you."

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

As he continued at the set pace behind the Sith Lord known as Torin, Lucifer felt a sudden feeling, a sensation in his mind...something familiar to him.

 

It was a feeling he had not felt since his time on Byss, no it couldn't be...he was dead or worse Lucifer was sure of of it, yet there it was like a thousand needles drilling into him telling him otherwise....the same feeling of dread when he was last before one man, the only man who had truly given the kiffar direction...and a sense of power. There was no mistaking the feeling it had to be him, his former master had returned, the kiffar could feel his dark presence with every moment, some kind of unholy bond told him that he was near as if calling to him like a silent siren blurring only into his head and no other.

 

It was then that he heard the voice...there was no mistake, no trick it was him, Darth Mortis Diabolus was back to reclaim Lucifer and begin his training anew. Without a moment's hesitation Lucifer opened his mind and spoke like an echo through the force, he would find his master and answer the call.

 

''Master, it is I Lucifer I thought you dead or that the beasts of Byss had claimed you, when I searched the caverns you were nowhere to be seen regardless of the many months I looked...am glad to know that I was wrong in my assumption and that you still live. I lay in the mountains hiking with many other apprentices unworthy of your presence, lead by some kind of cyborg twi'lek, a distainful filthy species to my recollection and opinion...yet he is a Sith Lord like yourself. He possesses some form of power or ability I have never encountered before...the ability to enforce his memories, selected naturally upon any who oppose him and let those who experience such a memory feel his past pain. It is a experience I shall not forget quickly.''

[Torin]

The pace of the march quickened as the group progressed. Torin pulled his minions along neglecting the weak that fell to the side. Several seemed to be slipping away. Tobias, Thule, Pein, Lallu: all of their footsteps seemed distant and slow compared to two that remained. Lucifer had already been dealt with, although Torin sensed something strange about his current thoughts. Someone had spent some time with the boy, but his understanding of the Force was flawed and weak. It infuriated Torin that the arrogant child seemed to be the most worthy so far.

 

There is another.

 

A newcomer to the group, Samuel, held pace with Lucifer, the defiant son. Torin had not noticed Reily at the beginning of the march, or at least not until he showed respect to Torin's first victim. At first, the Sith Lord had brushed the display off, assuming Sam would die soon afterwards, but he was proving stronger than previously perceived.

 

The climb had only just begun though, and far too many acolytes had fallen away. Torin wondered for a moment if he was to blame, were his teachings not connecting with his pupils?

 

No. He would not blame himself for their failures. It was the way of the Sith. The strong survive by taking what belongs to them. If these few did not want to reach out it was their fault.

 

In an attempt to get his pupil's attention, Torin stopped on the hillside. Grey, rocky mountains rose up behind him leaning towards the group as if at anytime they would crash down like a monstrous tidal wave.

 

"I sense a lot of pride in this group. All of you feel you are superior to the person standing next to you. I feel it. I know it to be true. Some of you here feel your experience and knowledge makes you worthy, and yet others of you take pride in your principles. Pride is a good thing. You should know you are strong and exhibit what makes you so."

 

Torin paused for a moment. His audience could not see his twisted face, and his voice flowed ominously out of shadow.

 

"However, how can you exhibit your stregenth if you are never given the opprotunity?"

 

As he spoke an invisible energy had been surging up behind Torin, unnoticable to the apprentices. The power rose up, mimicking the shape of the distant mountains, and as Torin finished asking his question he released the wave of Force power, dropping it on the group and throwing them to the ground.

 

"Fools!" he bellowed as they crashed into the dirt. "This is your opprotunity. The conflict facing you is climbing this mountain. It is by testing yourself that you grow and evolve, discovering your true power and freeing yourself from your bonds." His words echoed off of the hills. "Instead you are all sitting back like Jedi, refusing to grow, and if you're not growing, you're dying."

 

A dead slave, who had finally given in to death upon the crashing of Torin's force wave, rose into the air and hovered over the group.

 

"Rise up! Look!"

 

"This is what happens when you refuse a challenge. You are refusing to grow. You are refusing to learn."

 

"They say old dogs can't learn new tricks. I say old dogs die! Rise up, see the task ahead of you, and conquer."

 

Torin suddenly disappeared from their eyesight only to return to their vision several hundred yards away, running at a great speed into the mountains. His quick legs finally stopped a half mile away, but his booming voice cascaded down the hillside.

 

"Be the first to reach me and be the first to take a step towards freedom."

[Keenava Dira]

((yeah and I am falling behind because of Homework so sue me ))

 

Lallu mulled about her existence among seemingly pitiful standards, but found other things to occupy her time while the atmosphere around her began to fester under the humid air of pain and torment. While the taskmaster strained his eyes from her form, leaving the black twi'lek to herself, Lallu moved her small fingers to the brace at her neck and began fiddling with what seemed an effective punishment at the time of its implementation. It took no real length of time though for pieces to start falling from it and as her work progressed, the device's effectiveness slowly followed its rapidly disheveling frame.

 

The Task master strained a glance now and again towards her side of the organized line, but Lallu was careful about her task and moved slowly, backed to her stance of attention, ignoring the master's suspicion. "You hiding something from me maggot?" he said during one of his bouts of violent scrutiny. Lallu, brushing up her eyelashes to push a face of extreme innocence, looked at the taskmaster as though his statement was without a grounded sense of morality.

 

The Taskmaster looked back at her, his face curling into a sneer and without a word stepped aside to the other slaves, ignoring her continued attempts at seeking comfort.

 

This was all irrelevant though as it seemed her time with the slaves was to be cut short for the moment. A strong call went out to her and other beings throughout the work camp to start walking off the site and up towards the distant mountains. Lallu, looking slightly pleased with herself and a renewed interest in her situation, started to saunter off in the indicated direction when her taskmaster came up and grabbed her by her arm. "Where do you think you're going you shit head?" said the tub of lard as if his insult meant something. Lallu said nothing, but deep within her ruby eyes a raging fire burned. Its flames furrowed deeply into her retinal sockets and as if its nature could seep through the master's hold, he let go quickly, retracting from what seemed like a mighty burn.

 

Lallu smiled slowly and although their interactions had all but ceased for the moment, Lallu quickly turned back to her now angry taskmaster and showed off her work. The black twi'lek reached up to her neck and then, with one pull, she managed to rip the collar from its resting place and toss it back to the man whose already steaming expression grew redder in its intoxicating level of anger.

 

Mmmm”¦ Such an amazing level of hatred”¦ Nothing that can't be dealt with later though”¦

 

It meant little to Lallu though as she turned her back on the pig and wandered up to the group of fortunate looking slaves and began walking with them up towards the mountain top. The pace was undesirably crude, but something about the group drew faint interest from other parts of Lallu's psyche. Then, without warning, one of the aforementioned slaves was struck down quickly by the leader of this group who was the most curious of them all. Lallu found time to stare at her new charge and she felt inevitably uneasy by his unsteady composition. The leader was a twi'lek by the looks of him, who'd been bastardized beyond repair and sewed back together into what looked like an agonizing array of metallic surrogate limbs and organic parts. Lallu's curiosity was not without consequence though as the others seemed to out distance her while her thoughts were occupied.

 

The black twi'lek, although her innate desire was to play the rest of the game, saw this act as a direct threat to her wellbeing as was seemingly displayed by the dead man on the ground. So, seeking her place amongst the group, the black twi'lek rushed up to the group, pushing her sore legs to their limit and garnering a lead upon the majority until she received a rather large face full of rocks.

 

The impact of the scream and its decibel weren't of that much significance to the Twi'lek however as it seemed her form was now a few meters from the site. The few rocks that managed to actually penetrate her skin though, reached areas of her body that had not yet been touched by mortal torture implements. It was not enough pain to send her voice in an arc, mimicking the exhibition that had landed herself in her present position, but it was enough pain to actually register in Lallu's mind, which was a task in and of itself.

 

This was not the end though; as it would seem that the leader of their group had apprehended the culprit of the deed and was giving him a strong pulse of judgment that resonated throughout the entire area.

 

”œOoooOOooohhhh”¦ You see, this is what I've always been trying to get you to understand child”

Edited February 6, 2010 by Guest

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Within moments of sending his message Lucifer felt himself crumble to the ground as a wave of force energy washed over him. He felt the pain yet he did not surrender, instead he used his pain, consumed it and made it his fuel...his strength.

 

At hearing Torin's words bellow into his ears from afar Lucifer sprinted forwardc without hesitation, without remorse or pity for those that fell behind, for in the kiffar's mind those that fell deserved neither they were but a obstacle removed, one less rival to overcome or destroy. Picking up pace the young headstrong kiffar sprinted towards Torin and the mountains that loomed over the sith.

 

He did not look back once. If the others would not grab freedom of their bonds then they deserved the chains given to them, at least that was Lucifer's mindset. He would not be chained or held back as the others, he would not be some man's pet but be a living god embodied in a mortal body. Lucifer's legs kicked up a dirtcloud as he carried on his sprint leaving nothing but dust and debris in his wake and the other apprentices behind in his shadow, he would not be as them, unable to move and too weak to grab what is their's by birthright. Within moments the kiffar was upon Torin standing by his side and looking out below to the mindless rabble that he had left...pitiful...weak, insignificant and unworthy of the gift they so desperately wanted, it was a wonder how they had even survived this long. Lucifer's imperial training ahd taught him to be strong, to never underestimate anyonone or anything, in his former line of work to do so wold often cost you your life, such was the life of a imperial inquisitor...yet now he was something more, he had purpose and no beureucrat, jedi or any other apprentice was going to stop him from ascending and gaining what he so desperately desired....power that was raw, untamed, unrelenting, and completely unstoppable, those that considered such power as corruption were either stupid or naive, Lucifer was neither.

 

He noted another twi'lek, a female black in colour who seemed to have a innocence about her, however Lucifer knew this was probably from the truth, afterall looks were often decieving. Yet again he did not hide his distain for her instead using his anger to fuel his desire and strength that he may face the challenges to come. To hi mshe was just another obstacle, a piece of garbage to be thrown out like the rest that he had left behind. The kiffar would not let her get the better of him nor would he let her think she had won...he would wait until she made a mistake and exploit it to further his own gain, such was what he had been taught to do and such was his nature...as macabre as it was, for a momen Lucifer was almost tempted to rip out her spine but he thought better of it, afterall why end the suffering so quickly and spoil all the fun when you can wait and let them suffer a slow, excruciating torment.