At Hero's End

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Jacobi Wylcott
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At Hero's End

Post by Jacobi Wylcott » Wed Oct 28, 2020 5:34 am

---MORABAND
---CITADEL OF THE DARK EMPEROR

---SHORTLY AFTER THE BATTLE OF RHEN VAR - “FALL OF TION”

An orb of aqua blue with a single bright and round dot denoting the only surface bound city continued to rotate over the top of a cluttered Jakelian oak desk. The rare wood taken from the far flung Mandalorian world of Jakelia was considered a delicate rarity outside its borders. Upon the table sat trinkets and scroll work with parchment maps and the lot. Several candles of plain yellowed wax burned and brought a more natural light than the modernized illumination of power. It brought a certain realism to the scene and the owner enjoyed the flickering tones it cast. A solid dagger of mirror surface and a villainous hand guard sat patiently as a paper weight. The blade was approximately twenty inches in length and honed to razored twin edges and the blade tip was infinitely sharp. The hilt was leather bound with silver twine and the pommel was encrusted with a clear crystal that was uncut and left raw as it had been brought from the mines of Lucazec where the ex-Imperial Citizenry there toiled in the mines until their expiration. This blade had been a long time coming in its creation - yet it was not yet complete.

Additionally on the desk sat a glowing deep red hued holocron - it was open and it hummed gently the promise of the most vile knowledge known to any sentient being as Darth Tormentous himself continued to catalogue his mind’s work. The work of the Dark One.

He sat back in his grand chair and steepled his fingers together in thought. Everything since his return had gone expressly by his design. It was without a doubt that the Sith held great momentum in the grand scheme unraveling before the Galactic Alliance. With the savage attack on Rhen Var concluded, the Alliance reeled at the knowledge that Tormentous was very much still alive and more powerful than ever. That bastard Kenobi had been shown to be incapable of stopping the Dire Lord of Ruin and his friends had paid the price dearly for his hubris. Yet the fool continued to be a thorn in Tormentous’ side, a hinge at every stop, an annoyance at every turn. The do-gooder was just too tenacious for his own good.

Wherever evil dwelt or began to blossom - the legendary Jedi Master could be found. He was ever the noble knight in shining armor. How he wasn’t the most famous man in the Alliance was an unknown but as well he should be. Truly - Ben Kenobi was the single greatest champion of the Light that had ever existed in any history ever chronologically recorded. Luke Skywalker himself held not the weight behind his deeds that Ben Kenobi did. Not even Obi-Wan Kenobi the predecessor of Ben could stand in the shadow of the latter.

His eye narrowed at the rotating sapphire gem in the hologram. Perhaps it was time.

Perhaps it was time that the goal shifted.

A pulse of yellow from the left eye throbbed in his mind and the pain the Force delivered upon him ground his teeth beneath his mask. The thoughts never changed however. Perhaps it was time that the Sith didn’t strike with the goal of territorial gain or material gain - but with the singular purpose of putting down Jedi - but not just Jedi. THE Jedi.

The great symbol of hope and peace. The living legend so revered by all. The man who had stopped at nothing to end tyranny and villainy at every stop. The man who Tormentous held in his grasp once before and had failed to break mentally even through two years of constant torture.

“Soon.”

Tormentous uttered a hiss and banished Kenobi from his mind for the moment. Someday he would destroy the old man, for now he would move onward with his plans. Abruptly he arose from behind the desk and his sword came to him obediantly, already he could hear the telltale whispers of the vile thing to feed its insatiable hunger - he put the thoughts away with some effort and sheathed it to its clasp on his back and then donned his cape and hood, chaining it to his armor and covering his face to let the left eye glow ever brighter in the gloom. Prepared for an outing he walked around the desk and marched for the massive double doors after slipping the new dagger into a sheath on his belt.

As he exited his chambers he never slowed down as an entourage rushed to follow in his wake many steps behind as to not approach too close lest they be consumed by his very aura. He needed no guardian therefore the tailing party were merely slaves of convenience and duty. He spoke in a low warning tone, a slave responded with bowed head and rushed feet. “Ready my ship. I go to the Sanctum of the High Priest. Alert Darth Warvanus, it is time to prepare for war and his trade will be invaluable here.”

His trip took him towards the outer landing pad where a shuttle already awaited him, two pilots and one crewmember out before the shuttle fell to one knee as he exited the stoneship of the citadel and he came out into the exposed elements. Tormentous paid them no heed - they had already been briefed to his desires and would do as he commanded and wouldn’t allow anything to bar them their duty. Finally he took his seat and still he did not glance at the final courier slave - which the slave was thankful of in truth for the gaze of Tormentous was not for the faint of heart, nor even the strong willed.

“Send word to the High Priest. I am on my way to his Sanctum and he is to attend me immediately.”

Without further acknowledgement the slave fell to his face in gratefulness of his task and the pilot and crew loaded the shuttle, it took off and flew low and swiftly over the Valley of the Dark Lords. All air traffic had been grounded long before the shuttle even began warming its engines and silence befell the surface continent where the Citadel stood - the Dark Lord was moving - the entire population would seek his passing as a blessing in itself. Though no true silence would be observed for as if knowing the Dark One was coming out of his Citadel - so to did the dire demonic sire of dragonkin take flight and with twin heads it roared a welcome to its Lord and Master.

Kraujas Ntima took flight on leathery wings massive and horrific to behold. Torn holes in the skin, tears along the skeletal frame. A long tail of vast and terrifying spines of the most venomous poisons. Twin maws of row upon row of teeth attached to long necks of bulging muscle. A body of many tons that had grown even more large than its last appearance, scales like the most durable armor plating - this monster was the abomination of nightmares. A thing from the past that should have remained in the mythological stories of yesterday - yet Tormentous had summoned the dire beast and to him he bound it. So came the hydra soaring into the skies and screaming the announcement of its ascension. Even the bravest soldier cowed in the hydra’s wake. The very mountains seemed to recoil at the beast’s flight.

Tormentous’ eye fell upon the visage of the monster and he nodded in its direction - silent affirmation of his connection to the hydra of ancient lore’s horror. At the moment of his acknowledgement the hydra soared straight up into the skies and blotted out the sun, lifted its wings, spread wide its titanic girth and spread its talons wide - and it gave a most blood curtailed screaming roar that echoed long into the Valley and into the Force itself.
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Silas Karn
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Re: At Hero's End

Post by Silas Karn » Wed Oct 28, 2020 1:54 pm

Thousands of kilometers east of the valley a mountain ridge hid a project of vast undertaking. The ‘sanctum’ of the Sovereign was not more than module structure thrown together and completely dwarfed by the immense spire that was being forged to properly take that mantle. The construction would normally take cycles yet with an ever growing number of thralls and their ceaseless efforts the foundation had already been set. Chambers beneath the structure were being dug at similar rate to the floors that would be formed racing upwards.

This all while the original academy located on the outskirts from the Valley of Lords was being excavated. Soon two of the fabled Star Maps would be granted a proper home under the watchful eye of the Sovereign. Despite the pace of the build it was obvious that the stores of slaves had run bare under the rule of Blood. It was obviously a result of the lack of raids, attacks, or even movement by the Sith fleet during that era. “It was enough that I was granted this territory with such autonomy however the pace, even with the aid of thralls, is insufficient. What’s more the last incursion didn’t field any additional supplies. Perhaps Tormentous would consider a swift excursion?” Sovereign contemplated aloud as he witness the activity on a datapad in the quiet solitude of the chamber he had allowed his self.

As if his words had been transcribed to the Dark Lord a new message swiftly reached the High Priest. ‘Darth Tormentous demands and audience. He will be arriving shortly.’ A slight grin broke Sovereign’s countenance as he pondered the tone of the message. Setting the datapad down at his desk Silas looked a moment at a small ornate pyramid cast from precious metals. The relic was opened on one side with an inert holocron resting inside of it. The biologically immortal Echani had given little thought to preservation of his knowledge or any attempt to survive a natural death.

Still quite young for his race and possessing an art in the Force that completely negated aging alongside his longstanding attunement to the Living Force, Sovereign had formerly held little value in such efforts. Yet, as the title of High Priest had been restored to him the Sovereign’s thoughts dwelled ever on the past. The ancient Sith Empire was now foremost in the sorcerer’s mind. Regardless as Sovereign departed the shadows of his temporary domain a foul cry met his ears. ‘He would bring that beast,’ the priest mused.

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Kell Sangros
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Re: At Hero's End

Post by Kell Sangros » Wed Oct 28, 2020 5:48 pm

Location: Karza, Warvanus’ castle, Sanctum

Darth Warvanus , had sealed himself in his sanctum when he returned to his domain. There was much to focus on, much to do. He stood behind his large metallic desk, with a throne like chair behind him. His sanctum was adorned with shelves full of texts, data disks, tomes, and in between each bookcase stood a statue of past Sith Lords. Darth Revan, Darth Bane, Exar Kun, Darth Vader, Darth Sidious. Behind his office had a statue of Naga Sadow but behind the statue was the entrance to his inner most sanctum. In the center of the sanctum sat a table and a pair of chairs. This was one of a few sanctums he had. This world was his domain, and all that it contained. It had been a gift when conferred on the title of Sith Lord. He had recently ascended to the title of Darth and been named Hand of the Emperor. It was a high honor bestowed on him and it had been during an exciting time, as he could feel the currents of the Dark Side stirring, as if an awakening was about to commence. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Enter” he commanded

The door opened and a trooper entered standing at the doorway. Warvanus studied the intruder of his thoughts the trooper bowed his head. “My Lord” he said with all reverence

What is it Lieutenant” Warvanus replied stepping away from his desk.

My Lord, we have received word from Moraband, The Emperor commands you to come to the sanctum of the Sovereign and to prepare for War

Had it been anything less he would have considered punishment for this intrusion. But this was a summons from the Emperor and his word was absolute. He looked at the officer

Prepare my shuttle, and signal Kinta Vetasa tell her to prepare the Magnetar for my arrival and summon the other Captains of the Warhound and tell them their Lord summons them to Moraband

The Lieutenant bowed “As you command my Lord” and then took his leave to carry out Warvanus’ command.

An hour Later, Warvanus was on the bridge of the Moraband with the rest of the battlegroup assembled and now enroute to Moraband. It was a short trip to Moraband when the battlegroup returned to real space, Warvanus’ shuttle deployed heading towards the surface, to the coordinates of the Sovereigns sanctum. The descent happened without incident, once landed Warvanus would disembark and be escorted to where the Sovereign and The Emperor were.
===========================================
Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
===========================================

Jacobi Wylcott
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Re: At Hero's End

Post by Jacobi Wylcott » Thu Oct 29, 2020 6:33 am

The shuttle landed in a hiss of hot steam and a gush of dust - Darth Tormentous was out of the passenger hold and storming down the gang ramp with a flourish of his cape. No sooner had he departed did the shuttle begin prepping to launch once more should the Dark Lord desire to take his leave at any instant.

It was then that the scale and scope of the vast construction project took hold, a thousand acres of Moraband had been relegated to the domain of the High Priest whose own design was going into the very bedrock itself. It was to note that the lack of sufficient slave labor for a project so vast and enormous. Tormentous did see a contingent of Verpine and he was not pleased to see the more valuable technical slaves out here dying in the heat of Moraband’s sun. This was not indicative of anything Sovereign had ordered - it was instead a failure of coordination on behalf of the Overseers and Task Masters. Though he did spot a few dozen of the strong backed Tanaab slaves and he was surprised that they were still alive - surely a testament to their vitality and inner strength to have survived in such conditions.

At the end of the day it came down to the pure and simple fact that the Sith Empire’s stock of slave labor was under par from what it ought to be at this point. Either the stock should be replenished or droid labor would have to be brought in - a more expensive solution and one that was unacceptable for the current creation of droids was geared towards combat models or pilot models, not workers and construction droids.

An annoying logistical problem to say the least.

Slave labor was not Tormentous’ reason for being here however and so he continued on without another thought on the lesser beings that toiled away their lives. They were insignificant in his sight though he also knew of their importance as a strategic resource. Their expiration only meant that they needed more - there was no other concern than this. Perhaps a different flavor of alien filth next time to fill the ranks, the Gamorrean for instance were mindless animals to be prodded forth with electrical cues or perhaps the enduring Wookie that could last many years under hard labor before needing to be swapped out for other samples. Human labor was well balanced and also a good choice.

What would honestly do best would be one of the Empire’s city builder droids. But often times said droids were more difficult to obtain a single one than ten thousand slaves of any walk of life.

The route through the construction zone was intriguing enough as it brought a rare insight to a future monument of the Sith Empire. The Great Spire of Sovereign would be magnificent to behold. While the Great Citadel of the Emperor could be seen from low orbit the Spire would touch the clouds and more all while utilizing thermal heat from Moraband’s core as potential power sources.

What was a disappointing scene though was the modular set up of Sovereign’s headquarters. It was grand enough and would serve its purpose yet it was just so plain and bland for now. All Tormentous really cared about though was their privacy from the eyes of the lessers or even spies.

The arrival of the Dark One to the temporary sanctum of the High Priest was without fanfare yet somehow it was appropriate in this instance. He addressed the Lord of this host, “Priest, your project is coming along well. Behind schedule by a week - you should encourage the Task Masters to get back on schedule lest it try on our limited patience. I have much work for the High Priest to accomplish, it will not do for any delays.” The comments were mostly rhetorical but he gave pause should Sovereign deign to add anything though Tormentous had a feeling that Sovereign was already lighting a fire under the Task Masters for that very reason - perhaps in some cases literally.

“Today we must advance the capabilities of our minds. I have come to both teach and be taught to the furtherance of our goals. It must begin here and culminate in the zone of conflict. To accomplish a deep ritual - it is wise to set things in motion beforehand for being prepared is the difference between victory and absolute failure.”

A rush of thundering engines could be heard and the following minutes brought the Hand of the Emperor, Darth Warvanus himself. Tormentous turned to acknowledge his apprentice as he entered the inner yet temporary sanctum of Sovereign. His glowing left eye stared at the expected intrusion and the Dark One nodded his head in welcome. “Darth Warvanus, join us.” He motioned with a gauntleted hand in this direction.

Now the trifecta was complete.

Tormentous had been the first of this trio to have tampered in the dark arts of sorcery followed by Sovereign and then Warvanus. Though Tormentous had been in the study of different advances such as the ultimate knowledge of the Thought Bomb and so Sovereign’s own knowledge had gone further in this respect in regard to Sith Sorcery. Though there were still certain vile techniques in which Tormentous held firm to that Sovereign knew not of. Today he was going to unveil a portion of that knowledge in which he had studied in the latest hours within his own domain.

He drew the dagger from its sheath and set it down on the table that they surrounded. It held the look of a warblade yet small and compact. Such as it was, it was far more than a blade of war but it was a blade of destiny that would tear apart the very future of its victim. Warvanus and Sovereign would recognize the blade as kin to an actual Sith Sword - but it was the purpose of the blade that they were all here for.

A howling came from outside as Kraujas Ntima roared again and then a quake as the beast landed some distance away, claws latching upon the erected layers of the grand spire. “The hydra will be key to our purposes.”
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Kell Sangros
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Re: At Hero's End

Post by Kell Sangros » Thu Oct 29, 2020 12:50 pm

The Emperor’s hand walked through the construction zone, It appeared to be an awesome undertaking. When completed he had no doubt that this compound, this fortress would be worthy of the Sith’s High Priest. Like the others he too had noticed the lack of good slave labor. Something to remember the next time he decided to pillage or raid a world. Good slaves would be an excellent gift.

As the Hand walked his boots echoed. He had been clad in his usual armor minus the helmet that he often wore concealing his face. He was on Moraband the Emperor and the High Priest were two beings he would not conceal his face, they both had seen him without it, and being on their own territory he had no reason to conceal himself. During the long walk to the inner sanctum he had been flanked by a pair of troops one on each side, not that the Emperor’s hand needed a guard because he didn’t.

He approached the sanctum itself the guards had stopped as the War-Bringer continued on alone. The concentration of the Dark Side was so potent that it was intoxicating. He came back to himself as the doors creaked open all but announcing his presence but he had no doubt that both the men inside already had sensed his arrival. He stepped in.

My Lord Emperor” He Bowed his head He then was greeted by the Emperor and obeyed as he approached all the while he bowed his head in acknowledgement “High Priest” as he approached the table he noticed the dagger that Tormentous had laid on the table, it did have a similarity to the legendary “Jedi Bane” His eyes were locked on such a beautifully crafted blade, even as the Hyrda could be heard from a short distance. He turned his attention from the blade when Tormentous spoke again about the Hydra. He examined the blade once more before looking up at those gathered and waited for the Emperor to continue
===========================================
Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
===========================================

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Silas Karn
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Re: At Hero's End

Post by Silas Karn » Thu Oct 29, 2020 2:30 pm

It might have pleased or at least humored Tormentous to survey the inside of the modular domain of the Sovereign. Aside from his yet unused holocron there was not but dust alongside the schematics for the construction project. Vain as the High Priest was it seemed he possessed immense patience. Of course the sore point to this wait was brought up immediately as he met with the Dark Lord. “Yes, it seems even as will deprived perpetual motion engines that thralls have limits. It seems they are best suited for hard labor devoid of complication. As for the task masters…well I have been assured they are pushing this project at peak efficiency.”

Not desiring to admit how many ‘incentives’ Sovereign had doled out for the cascading series of delays the priest let the subject remain on a more positive note. Surprisingly the conversation shifted towards what could only be assumed as knowledge within the realm of the Force. This was a stark shift for the Dark Lord and Sovereign caught on to this fact immediately. Something severe had to be the impetus for such measures. Though it was certainly true that Tormentous had been the first of the three to truly master Sith Sorcery he had not been the first to access its domain. Silas had long been heralded as the black-hand in no small part due to his earliest efforts with the art as sorcery had been the Echani’s first gift within the Dark Side. Even before the priest could feed from the darkness he had touched upon the ancient art. However, in earning the ascribed moniker Silas was nearly destroyed by the technique.

Moreover after averting such a fate the ties formed from it use nearly consumed Silas so much as to forever taint his left arm. Even after feasting upon the weak and restoring his full vitality and appearance it seemed that appendage would carry the scars of his tampering until the Sovereign’s dying days. After Warvanus’s arrival, one that did get acknowledgment and the faintest bow from the priest, Tormentous procured and odd dagger. As the Dark Lord placed it on the table Sovereign immediately surmised its make. A pulse rippled through the priest’s armor as if calling out to the blood forged relic, armor forged in kind though intentionally denied sentient will. If the blade wasn’t distraction enough soon Tormentous’s mount arrived and sullied the top of Sovereign’s keep with its filth. The High Priest’s history with the beast notwithstanding, Tormentous finished his opening statement affirming need for the animal. ‘Well this should be interesting, I’d love to dissect that creature,’ Sovereign mused.

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Re: At Hero's End

Post by Jacobi Wylcott » Fri Oct 30, 2020 5:25 am

“If you had but the tools to break Kraujas Ntima open then I would welcome you to do so, Priest. Yet, you do not and so you must settle with the task at hand.” He motioned to the blade on the table. “We are going to imbue this blade with a great malady - for whosoever this blade pierces shall find himself at the apex of misery though the envenomed edge should not kill the foe but keep him alive. We must make an example of the victim. He must be made to cry out to all and rebuke his own beliefs, such will be its potency.” Now was the obvious nature of the need of the hydra for the monstrous Sithspawn held a terrible venom not of natural blend but of the Dark Side of the Force that secreted from the spines on its tail and the housing of the fangs within its maw.

Tormentous did nothing lightly and he had called forth Warvanus and Sovereign that they would all enact this ritual together. Three would conduct the rights for there was no room for error in this. Even the slightest misstep could unleash chaos among them as much as the end product could their targeted victim. It would also mean that these rights would be thrice bound to the blade and therefore should the Jedi or any other being capable of attempting to counter the rights would be faced with an daunting challenge that would already be iron clad to begin with. Thrice bound - thrice without peer.

He looked one to the next of his fellow Lords. “Take whatever time you need to prepare. I shall gather the chemical component. Sovereign, we will need the full use of your sorcerous ability, begin the rights and prepare us an area in which we may conduct the enchantment. Warvanus, take up the blade and temper it in the energies of the Dark Side that the alchemical process shall not be impeded.”

After awaiting the acknowledgements and additional commentary from both his companions should they have anything to add, he dismissed himself from the room. Once outside his single eyed gaze lifted to the heavens where the mighty Kraujas Ntima rooted within the unfinished construction of the Sovereign. “Hydra,” he announced in a booming voice, “it is time. Approach.”

On leathery wings the two headed viper came down with an earth shattering slam. Beautiful masonry commissioned by Sovereign himself was demolished as the titanic figure of the full grown and still growing battle hydra unfurled its massive weight and presence. Twin heads reared back with growing snarls, claws as long as a man’s body curled and scratched the earth and stone as if it was but sand, gigantic wings bent and shaded around the Dark Lord of the Sith - its blood bound master, the long tail landed and slowly swept around to curl and now Tormentous was fully surrounded by the beast of his own creation. The vile Kraujas Ntima.

“I need your poisonous essence that I may cripple my foes.” Anger spiked from the hydra and Tormentous knew why, “You are a tool far to vast for this purpose and your fully potent venom far too powerful for the task of finesse that I require. Be sanguine Kraujas Ntima, I shall unleash you to feed soon and underneath a new star’s warmth - your contribution shall not be without reward.” Still outraged that its master would choose not to wield it as his primary weapon - the hydra acquiesced to Darth Tormentous’ demands.

The thickened tail came forth and rose over Tormentous’ head to come gently down before him, spines began to glisten and even extend from the scales. Heat rose from the spines as the venomous condition of the deadly appendages came to the forefront. Such was the raw decaying potency of the poisons that the stonework underneath the tail at the point where the spines protruded began to discolor and even disintegrate.

With two fingers outstretched a spine came free from Tormentous’ will. The scales beneath folded over and already a fresh spine began to spawn within the great tail of the mighty hydra as the spines were a ranged weapon or even a detachable melee dart. Floating in the air before him he kept control over it. Even Tormentous dared not put even a hand concealed in a gauntlet on the spine. So immersed with the pilfered item that he did not bother to thank the hydra and instead waved it away which it obeyed with an enraged snarl - though it did not leave without taking up a slave in each maw - something to chew on later as consolation.

Spine in tow - Darth Tormentous began walking back towards the sanctum.
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Kell Sangros
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Re: At Hero's End

Post by Kell Sangros » Fri Oct 30, 2020 4:11 pm

Warvanus listened intently as Tormentous listed his intentions. He did not have to say who would be the receipient of the blade’s malady but he had a strong suspicion and as he laid the plan for the ritual out it made sense to include him. Each one gathered was a recognized expert. The High Priest in the Alchemical arts of the Dark Side, Tormentous, the glue that binds the Sith, and Warvanus the Lord of War, who better than him to temper such a well-crafted blade? There was none better than the War-Bringer. He bowed his head acknowledging his charge and his mandate.

As you will my Emperor” he said before taking the blade to carry out his Master’s will. With the dismissal Warvanus took his leave. He would go to the planet’s surface. Tuk’atas were known to roam around the edge of the Valley it would be a good place to immerse this blade in the energies of the Dark Side.

Once he reached the surface, he remained alert, he walked without caution on the planet’s surface. He could not sense the beast. However the presence of two apprentices bubbled to the War-Bringer’s perceptions.

They will make an excellent start” he had said to nobody.

He could feel them draw near, he stood blocking their path. No doubt they might have already sensed him it did not matter this was not going to be a slaughter to assert his superiority, but this was a sacrifice to the ritual that he was to be a part of. He stood there the dagger drawn already.

Stand Aside” one apprentice spat

Warvanus did not acknowledge them the apprentice spoke again

Do you not know who I am? I am the apprentice to the Emperor himself” He could sense the lie from where he stood. Warvanus smiled.

Your uniform suggests otherwise” Warvanus said pointing the dagger to the apprentices shoulder patch indicating that he was an apprentice of a low caste Sith. Then pointing the dagger to himself he asked them

“Do you know who I am?
” he asked, to which they shook their heads side to side.

Let me educate you before you are sacrificed” he said with a sneer.

I am Darth Warvanus, Hand to the Emperor” the color in their faces went white as Warvanus could feel their fear. “Defeat me and you can take my place” he said relying on their lust for power and their greed

They needed no more incentive as they both drew their training weapons and went on the attack a stabbing motion Warvanus easily countered with the dagger blocking the sloppy attack. The other at the same time went for his head at which Warvanus changed his footing and at the last moment moved forcing the first apprentice to move into the blade’s path. The wound to the apprentice did not kill him but it did wound him, and stunned him enough for him to drop his weapon. Warvanus wasted no time and took the dagger and stabbed the apprentice in the throat. He dropped to the ground gripping for the weapon, choking to death with the blade still lodged in his throat. From the second apprentice he had dodged an attack and then another. Warvanus gestured with his hand and the apprentices blade flew from his hand. Then with another gesture called the dagger to his hand. The first apprentice was already dead. With the dagger he charged the apprentice and after a brief one sided struggle Warvanus had him in a choke hold where he took the dagger and ran it across the apprentice’s throat. He dropped dead almost instantly. Warvanus had not broken a sweat but took a moment to examine his handiwork, and then the blood soaked blade. The blade would need more.

Nothing personal” he said “your Emperor thanks you for your sacrifice” with that, Warvanus left. In search of more to sacrifice. He needed something stronger in the Dark Side.

Hours had passed when Warvanus returned to the sanctum of the High Priest , the dagger sheathed, he had made his way back to his Emperor and withdrew the dagger which was bloodstained. He reverently laid it on the table and then addressed Tormentous.

The Blade has tasted Blood” he began “ Devotees of the Dark Side and Beasts made of the Dark Side have been sacrificed for you my Lord Emperor” With that he took a step back and waited
===========================================
Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
===========================================

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Silas Karn
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Re: At Hero's End

Post by Silas Karn » Fri Oct 30, 2020 4:36 pm

Had Tormentous taken the effort to read the priest’s surface thoughts or had the Sovereign’s face betrayed what he was thinking? Not since his days working with Kraiov had the Sovereign worked with anyone that could read his motives. Either way with new orders the High Priest unleashed a great burst of telekinetic energy and swept away the few semblances of life toward a far corner of the primary chamber of his modest sanctum. Then with a violent clap Sovereign brought his hands together as he summoned forth the ‘gate’ to the domain of the damned.

Calling forth the peak of his near-peerless connection to the Force, the High Priest stretched out his hands. The domain of the Sith’s true calling expanded out in a perfect sphere of malevolent energy. The mere presence of the miasma warmed the surface of the durasteel floor. Using his own body as the epicenter for the art the Sovereign’s armor reverberated and soon the whispers of the ancient Sith tongue began to fill the chamber. The craft behind such profane armor, though intentionally divergent in make, seemed to have grown stronger over the many battles the Sovereign had partaken in.

Possessing a singular spirit, malicious will, or sentience on any level nearing that of the Jidai Maras, should have remained impossible. Yet, the longer the Sovereign wore the cursed plating ever more coherent the words spoken and the response sharpened to the darkness that emanated from the High Priest. Pushing away such concerns the Sovereign sat down and lifted the sphere of his influence just overhead. Effectively a portal to the realm of the collective knowledge, will, and power of the Sith of old made manifest. For the purposes of the Dark Lord such a gaudy display was overly compensatory in nature and as such the Sovereign took hold over the sphere and compelled it to collapse ten-fold.

The reduction took inordinate strength of mind as the ‘gate’ compelled with great seduction to allow it to feed and grow ever greater in magnitude. It seemed each of the greatest gifts within the Dark Side possessed such inherent temptations. It was a wonder the young Echani ever survived the mastery of this sorcery. However, at his lords command the sphere was set in place and held down by the might of the Sovereign’s own will. The final component of Tormentous’s plan was now at the ready.

Jacobi Wylcott
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Re: At Hero's End

Post by Jacobi Wylcott » Tue Nov 03, 2020 5:40 am

Examining the results of Sovereign’s toils, Tormentous approved and set the venomous spine within the spherical aura of forbidden sorcery. Doing so was not without absolute care - levitating the spine above the table where the initial ritual would take place the spine was hovered immediately above and as Sovereign held the sphere, Tormentous made his own incantation and so added his own knowledge to Sovereign’s own. Lowering the spine the very tip came to touch the sphere and had it not been for Tormentous’ words the sphere may have collapsed in a titanic and most violent bone shattering eruption. Or so it may have done normally though with Sovereign providing his incalculable influence over the sphere it may never have even fluctuated.

The bubble was pierced and a verdant green light seared the air above, the spine began to lower into the sphere and every centimeter that descended into the sphere it vanished into a sizzling green hued smog.

It was the representation of the physical being destroyed and what they were now seeing was the Dark Side of the Force itself made visible. The envenomed malady floated within the top portion of the sphere and churned like pooling water. Tormentous had a moment.

He stepped away from the sphere and nodded to Sovereign, without instructing the Priest he knew that the Echani Lord would already be drowning the mixture of venom with the Dark Side. No doubt he would be twisting the concoction to his own mind’s machinations. It was this autonomy that would make this ritual all the more horrific. Tormentous had enlisted Sovereign here to tamper with the recipe knowing full well that another mind would only make the binding even more difficult to overcome.

Another mind that thought differently from Tormentous was given leave to meddle as he saw fit so long as the end goal was achieved.

Likewise Darth Warvanus was present and this was now Tormentous’ primary focus. He approached Warvanus and accepted the blade with both hands and from here he thoroughly examined it. Over and again not only his physical eye but his mind observed the blade. The steel was tempered with inky stains both from the physical blood spilt upon it and the ethereal stain of essence that dominated the blade’s aura. Finally he broke sight from the blade to see Warvanus, he nodded approvingly and then motioned to where Sovereign was sitting.

Now and again without words of instruction, Warvanus was to approach the sphere of sorcery and begin to influence the epicenter himself as for now the green misted cloud was spreading through the sphere and tainting the beautiful scenic crystalline clear that Sovereign had made. With both Sovereign and Warvanus’ tamperings the actual make up of the ritual would become ever so foul and twisted.

Darth Tormentous faced the sphere with both his mightiest allies contorting and cajoling the sphere together. He granted them two hours in which they could toil away and allow the sphere to marinade with the venomized malady. For two hours he stood though not silently for he spoke in low tones and called upon the aura of the dagger. He turned the solid steel into a pliable maze to be molded and affected by the vilest of things - those things that Warvanus and Sovereign were making just before him.

When the arrival of the two hour mark approached his tones rose in volume until he held the blade telekinetically aloft before him. The blade was glowing now with cracks running through its length. An audible bass hum reverberated aloud as the blade’s tone was vibrating as if it had a vibrocell. Soon the iron splintered, fractured and then swiftly disintegrated before their eyes. On the ground was left nothing but dust which blew away in a wind that was not there. Though its’ physical blade was gone, a shadow of the blade remained and it was this ghostly phantom that Tormentous sought.

It was time for the second third phase of the ritual.

This time, Tormentous spoke. There was no room for error here for the vile energy he was about to summon could very well kill them all. “Set the sphere to a calm state. It will maintain itself for a time. In this time, I need you both to focus on what I shall do - I am going to call the Dwomutsiqsa, the smoke demon of the Sith. It is not to be set free. Soon as the smoke is conjured we must move.”

“Warvanus, you will bind the demon. Seize it. Restrain it.”

“Sovereign, once bound you will then entwine the demon,” the smoke bladed dagger drifted higher for all to see, “to the blade. Tether it. Bind it forever to this edge and the smoke will once more take solid form.”

He eyed them both, “We stand at the precipice of the greatest achievement in history. If we fail here then it is clear we were never worthy to begin with and so shall end our false rule over the Sith Empire. Should we bind this demon to the blade then it shall echo through eternity, we will have mastered that which cannot be. Over the natural and unnatural we shall have displayed our dominion over all. We shall affirm that we are indeed - worthy.”

Once the demon was within the dagger they would turn their attentions to the sphere behind them. For now, the biggest challenge of their careers as Sith awaited them. The Dwomutsiqsa was the unspoken and forlorn dire shadow of Darkness. It was the Dark Side of the Force made manifest into a malevolent and sentient form. It was the dreambeast, the great exiled knowledge that should have never been.

The Dwomutsiqsa was one of two very ancient forms of Sith Sorcery that Tormentous had devoted himself to learning. While he was giving up one such secret, he still held one more that wouldn’t be shown here today.

He extended his left hand, open and facing up. With his right hand he stole a hand gesture from the ancient ways and with three fingers clawed in form he etched a single circle above the left hand. As he traced the circle it left a black smoky scar in the air. Pure evil could be felt from the circle. With his right he plucked edges from the circle and wrote forgotten runes in the air at several points in perfect spacing. Spirits of old began to chant in the room, faces long gone and never to be known again called among the darkness and gave strength to the vile ritual. One final time he looked to both Sovereign and Warvanus, there was no going back. “Do not look it in the eye or it will take you in the time it takes your heart to beat.”

With his right hand he took two fingers and drew the smoke scar through the air - in a second larger circle and directly through each rune he’d just written. The runes smeared and churned, began to glow in the air and then he lifted his left hand up into the smoke circle where he closed his fist clearly on something unseen. Rolling his hand over to face down he opened his fist and while nothing dropped, the sound of broken glass definitely sounded.

From the earth came that same blackened smoke scar. It came through the cracks in the floor, it came from the air, it came from nothingness and it formed nothing at all but a cloud of dire energy. Two or perhaps a hundred split eyes emerged from the mirth and to those who looked upon them they would find only madness.

Darth Tormentous was busy fending the creature off already in a mental duel, he fought to hold the demon in place and it was everything that he could do at this point. He could not motion for Warvanus nor could he even signal him through the Force, the War-Bringer would have to act on his own instinct. This was the moment where they crumbled and failed forever in a pathetic instant and damned all of Moraband in a single two hour ritual - or they seized a victory where it never should have been found in the first place.
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