A New Training Center (Warvanus, Training)

With Korriban, the ancient home world of the Sith, destroyed, the Sith Order have retreated to the sanctuary of the frozen realm of Zoist.
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Kell Sangros
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Re: A New Training Center (Warvanus, Training)

Post by Kell Sangros » Tue Aug 13, 2019 1:24 am

“Sith Sorcery was the purest expression of the Dark Side” the words of Darth Bane rang in the mind of the War-bringer. Warvanus had spent weeks, studying, reading the tomes, scrolls and any recorded knowledge on Sith Sorcery, He had also spoken to at length to Sith Lords who were well versed in this ability. In his study he had come across many exacting rituals. He had been grateful for Lord Blood who had encouraged him long ago to learn the ancient Sith tongue. It made his studies easier. He was a warrior, all his training was for abilities that would make him a more efficient killer, a powerful servant of war. Sith Sorcery clashed with his array of powers in the Dark Side, but as a Sith Lord at a level of Mastery he needed to expand on his knowledge. What made him stronger, made the Sith order as a whole stronger.
-Begin Sith Sorcery 600 words-

Warvanus claimed his stake in the power of the Dark Side of the Force, drawing its endless energy to him , letting it flow through him. He was its instrument, its conduit just as It was his to command. He was a being close to bursting with the contained power he had drew into himself. In the Dark Side he poured his every emotion anger, hatred, his lust, his desires, he gave them all to the Dark Side, it all flowed through him sharpening his focus, it had enhanced him in every way. Its whispers beckoning him to lose himself to it, to give into the madness . He kept his mind on the physical realm, ignoring the temptations it tried to use to lure him into the madness.

He traced the symbols in the thin air with his index finger, he could feel it cutting the air, he had committed the runes in his mind as he traced the patterns exactly as he had studied in the texts. He brought his focus to these runes, with the summoned power of the Dark Side acting as an amplifier. Its power all around him as he began opening himself more and more to the Dark Side, the more aware of the growing power he could command. He began the chant required for the ritual of Invocation. Nothing had happened, he tried it a second time which produced the same result, After a third attempt at the ritual he realized that it was not working, his efforts failed. The frustration in him rising as was his anger, it was a ripe succulent thing offered to the Dark Side, it’s renewed power vigorously refreshing the War-Bringer not only in power, but it renewed his determination.

Where had he failed? He had been exacting in the ritual, the attempt to invoke the spirit of his ancestor Darth Desectivus while having failed he was not sure why. He had reviewed the ritual instructions and then he remembered. While he had traced the runes very exacting in the air, he had failed to invoke the summoning in the Sith tongue. He was doing the chant in basic. Anger at himself for overlooking such a simple but vital detail in the otherwise complicated ritual. He would try this ritual again.

This time Warvanus sat cross-legged on the floor, a single lit candle in front of him, With both hands he had carved the symbols and runes in the air in front of him, as he opened himself again fully to the Dark Side his will pressed on summoning the long dead Sith Lord, one he had a personal connection to. Which he knew from his studies that this made it slightly easier but this was not a simple task especially to the uninitiated in the Sith Sorcery lore. He began to mutter the incantation for this summoning as he traced the runes in the air once more. There was no smoke, no noises, He had completed the ritual and it had appeared to produce the same result as before, but the Dark Side was at work, it felt more potent in this room. The candle in front of him danced wildly on its wick. The Dark Side felt so strong that at first it felt oppressive even to this devotee of the Dark Side, it was a potency he had yet to experience until now. Sinister powers were being employed here as a being appeared in front of the War-Bringer, surrounded by a red glow. It was featureless; he deepened his focus his energy on the being in front of him. To his astonishment the being’s details began to sharpen, become more pronounced until the being was standing clear in front of him. Warvanus could see through him, but the spirit of this Sith Lord now stood before him. The Dark Side was still very strong in this room, it went from feeling oppressive to seductive to the War-Bringer, aching to be courted, and lusted after. After a moment, Warvanus stood to his feet, and stood before the visitor. The figure there stood there silent, watching Warvanus, assessing him.

Pause 694/600
The Figure was clad in what looked like armor his lightsaber hanging at his side, his hair long, black, it was in a weird sense looking in a mirror only this was not his mirrored reflection but the similarities in features were there, he had the look of there being a obvious relation just to what extent could not be told.

Who are you” the War-Bringer asked already knowing the answer

The Spirit did not move when it spoke its voice sounded as if a thousand disembodied voices spoke in synch.
You know who I am, you summoned me” was his reply

Indeed he did know, he had learned that the long dead Lord of the Sith he had descended from was of his mother’s side, the mother he would never know, but it was of no consequence.

Darth Desectivus?” Warvanus had said not entirely a statement but not entirely a question either.

He took a step towards Warvanus as if to study him closely , his look was approving , an heir worthy of the dynasty that had been his.

The Dark Side is with you Blood of my Blood, I have been watching you for a long time, even before the Tri-Suns took you prisoner, they had sought to bring my spirit into your body so that I may rule them again” He paused “The Fools, they do not have the power or the means to return me to a living host. what they should have done was empower you with their power so that you could resume my work, Caavan was the biggest one of the lot

Warvanus listened he had been told this Sith Lord was one of his ancestors. He remembered the cult and their leader the one who was his progenator. He had later returned and leveled their temple to the ground. How dare they attempted to lure him, and using Tormentous as bait, falling for their dupe had only increased his anger and hatred

I killed Caavan” he told him but in the back of his mind, why wasn’t he trying to dominate him to command his flesh and live once more? Was he biding his time? He would proceed here with extreme caution.

Desectivus studied Warvanus, his form wavered ever so slightly “You destroyed his body but his essence lives on in another” he told him. “A Younger body, his power is even stronger than when you faced him

How-?” the War-Bringer began before the spectre waved his hand dismissively at the incoming question.

He employed a long forgotten technique called Essence Transfer , that had been Darth Bane’s as well as Darth Andeddu but it is now forever lost, but you must destroy him he will try to undermind what you are doing, you must trap his essence, only then can y ou destroy him once and for all

He nodded “I am much stronger since that battle” he said remembering.

The spirit either did not hear or did not feel it was worth a reply “My time here is almost up, go to Torque in the Gordian Reach, I had a safehouse , All that is inside is yours by right, I must go my son, the Dark Side is with you Blood of my Blood

With that the spirit disappeared and once again Warvanus was alone in the room.
=Resume=

With the spectre’s disappearance the surge of potency in the Dark Side abated, Warvanus contemplated the possible applications on what he had just accomplished. Warvanus had communed with the spirit of a long dead Sith Lord. He was not sure in the beginning if the ritual worked or if the ritual itself was purely fictitious. It had been authentic, and he had completed it with success, the other abilities that opened up before by using Sith Sorcery suddenly seemed like a whole new gateway into power. More study was required, He had attempted one and was successful, but the effort left him exhausted, utterly drained. He would indeed explore other facets of this pure expression of the Dark Side, with his growing knowledge he would find a use for Sith Sorcery but now he needed to rest, recover and meditate on what had happened.

End Sith Sorcery App
838/600
===========================================
Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
===========================================

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Kell Sangros
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Re: A New Training Center (Warvanus, Training)

Post by Kell Sangros » Fri Sep 06, 2019 1:10 am

Warvanus had allowed a beastmaster come to his domain on Karza. He needed an animal for the next secret he was going to claim from the Force. When Warvanus entered the arena he could see various beasts in their cages, Nexxu, Bantha, a Wampa, and a Bull Rancor cub, not full grown but not a new born either. Something bout the Rancor intrigued the War-Bringer as he stood In front of the beast’s cage.
Begin App

Warvanus drew upon the infinite energy of the Force,drawing the Dark Side to him, pouring his malice, and his cruelty as a succulent offering to the Dark Side, it was a sweet offering. The Dark Side energy absorbed into his energy field. The same field that surrounded every single living thing. His energy field pulsed stronger, more vibrant, terrible power yearning to be unleashed. The gathered power was nothing short of majestic as it enhanced him through and through. He extended his senses outward, his target specific, his goal also specific.

With the Force he extended his awareness to the creature in front of him. He could feel its life force as It burned strong through the Force. It was like a supernova of energy, beautiful to behold, terrible to be unleashed upon. The War-Bringer was not satisfied; he pressed his focus deeper and deeper until his awareness brushed the mind of the beast. The mind of the Rancor physically small but the strength of will, instinct and its’ hunger was nothing short of impressive. The tendrils of the Force traced the currents of the mind of the beast. Deeper and deeper into its mind he probed. He could feel the Rancor’s base urges, it was such a strong driving force, primal in nature. The longer his awareness lingered the more connected he felt to the Rancor. He pushed his will upon the creature to dominate it, bend it to his will, to obey his every command like a loyal servant. The creature began to claw and tear at its cage , rage building up in the Rancor. It perceived his intrusion and resisted his dominance. The creature would have nothing to do with the War-Bringer’s wishes.

This creature would not bend easily to his will. Another approach was needed. He still felt his mind linked to the Rancor’s he had made a mistake, he would need to strengthen the link to the Rancor. He kept his awareness submerged with the Rancor. He studied the impulses that drove the creature, and had learned much. The creature was driven by Hunger, it was starving, the owner had been cruel to the beast. He could feel its urge to be free and to roam free, the cage confining the beast and something else , something that he knew all too well, something that was as much a part of him as it was now this Rancor, it was the lust for Revenge. The intent was there he could feel it in the mind of the Rancor. Minute by minute as he learned more about the creature the stronger their link became. He would not control this creature by pure dominance.

He pressed his concentration deeper maintaining the link between their minds. He would win the creature over. He would provide its every baser need; he would win its loyalty. Through the Force he made his intent known to the Rancor cub, he would feed it, and free it from its cage. Repeatedly he pushed these intentions through the link that continued to grow stronger with each passing minute.

Pause App 517/600
Warvanus looked at the being who had brought these creatures to his domain, “Release this rancor” it was not a request it was a command. The peddler argued but Warvanus was having none of it. Through the Force he pulled the lever back which lowered the Rancor’s cage. The man began to protest but it was futile to argue with a Sith Lord of Warvanus’ status. He looked at the Rancor who left the cage and smiled, He only had to think the command, and the Rancor ate the peddler. The man screamed as the Rancor not only got fed but had its revenge. He watched with a widening smile on his face as this Rancor though not yet full grown but not small by any means got its desires.
Resume App

The command he had given it through their link was to eat the peddler, it was only too happy to comply. By doing so he had delivered on each of his promised intentions. He continued to maintain the link between them. It was getting easier and easier for Warvanus. The Rancor stood before Warvanus but it was not threatening him, or acting aggressively, it was more like a passive curiosity, at least that was how Warvanus interpreted it. He then sent through the link to follow him. The beast still resisted but only at first then with reluctance followed him to the other side of the arena. The creature was still not sure of its new owner; in the Rancor’s mind this Sith Lord his new owner had treated him better than the last owner. Another suggestion was pushed through the link of the Rancor, this one was to lay down. He sent the thought through to the mind of the Rancor urging it lay down, to be docile to rest. The creature after a couple of minutes would comply and lay down before Warvanus. Who then pet the beast as if showing his approval.


195/600
Total Word Count: 712/600
Warvanus retreated, the effort was taxing mentally on him, as he had pushed his limitations with the beast. Despite it he could feel the Beast and even though he withdrew he felt that connection still. He was positive he had left an imprint on the beast as well.
===========================================
Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
===========================================

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Kell Sangros
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Re: A New Training Center (Warvanus, Training)

Post by Kell Sangros » Thu Sep 24, 2020 1:37 am

Warvanus looked down at the red stone that sat on the table in front of him. The stone was small, small enough to fit an amulet or to be placed on a blade. Something he would definitely explore if this secret became his. He picked up the smooth red stone and closed his bare fingers over the stone. He would not crush it, He hoped that through his efforts that he would not shatter it by sheer force of will. He took a breath and began the ritual.
=Start Darkside Alchemy 700 Words=

His very thought, his whim had so effortlessly summoned the power of the Dark Side where as before it took so much effort. His anger and hatred fueling the infinite power that was his to command. The same power that filled him, filled the room, his private sanctuary, the halls and rooms were not exempt from the power that he had called upon. He closed his eyes as he slipped into a deep meditation, that the ritual had demanded of the practitioner. He let his awareness engulf the stone until the very stone felt like a part of him as much as his hand or foot.

The next phase of the ritual was to baptize the object in the dark side. The ritual decreed full immersion, He let the dark power surround and engulf. The stone being fully immersed in the Dark Side of the Force the energy enveloped it inside and out no crevice was spared. Warvanus continued to push his will even harder to pour more dark side energies, all while verbally calling upon the dark side, to anyone who might have heard would not hear the voice of the War Bringer but the sounds of many reverberating as one voice. It was like positive charging a netural ion, only this was more potent. With the dark side the stone being baptized in the power of the dark side the very power he summoned. This fact filled him with a level of satisfaction, even borderline giddiness. Everything in the room stated to shake violently, from the table and chairs to the decor on the walls, and even the walls themselves reverberated with the power of the War-Bringer. Warvanus did not expect this and felt his focus being threatened with the distraction. His concentration did not slip enough to ruin the ritual, but he had to double down. He took a breath and drew deeper on the Dark Side. He had to maintain the immersion. As quickly as it began the rumbling ceased, almost in a whisper he could hear the Dark Side whisper to move on to the next phase.

The third step in the ritual called for the blood of the Master. Warvanus opened his eyes and his hand and moved it away from the stone not to his surprise it hung floating in front of him through the power of the Force. He picked up from the table the ceremonial knife. The blade being a few inches long no jagged edges on the blade. Without a second thought he then dragged the blade across his palm, the blade doing its job opened his flesh resulting in releasing his life’s blood. Warvanus took the bleeding hand and closed it around the stone again. The stone had felt hot in his hand like a stone that was in the hot sun all day. He closed his hand tighter around the stone. The blood of the War-Bringer coating the stone in the red sticky substance, dropping the knife which fell with a slight clang. He closed his other hand on the stone, as he did so The mantra at this stage was as if it was a prayer, beseeching the dark side for this stone to be imbued with its power, in return offering the dark side his blood as a sacrifice and to bind himself to this object. If the dark side willed it it would be imbued with its power.

The final phase of the ritual called for the War-Bringer to imprint himself into the stone. This would bind him to the stone. Both his hands still wrapped around the stone, he pressed his awareness into the stone. In the mind’s eye he could see the smooth red surface of the stone, it seemed to glow. He could feel no imperfections in it. He pushed his awareness deeper and in doing so poured his emotions into it. First he would pour his lust into it, His lust for conquest, battle and for the vanquishing of his enemies. He gave as an offering to the dark side his anger. Anger fueled by the lack of conquest, anger at the stagnated state of the galaxy and the Sith Empire in particular, anger that what he had been working towards had to be kept secret. He gave it all. He poured his grief into the stone, he spared no emotion. Abruptly the stone grew so hot that it burned his hands as if he was holding a burning coal with his bare hands. He released his hold on the stone, and the stone continued to float, with his will he lowered the stone on the table.

The stone did not look any different, the glow subsided and ceased. When Warvanus touched the stone with the Force the object felt different. He could feel the dark side embued in this stone it pulsed as if it was alive. He knew it was not alive but the power it emitted could not be denied. He picked up the stone let it rest in his hand, it was cool now to the touch. When the stone touched his flesh he could feel the stone react. It felt as if the Dark Side was stronger in this object when he touched it.

=End Darkside Alchemy=
881/700
Warvanus placed the stone down, and unclipped his lightsaber and the familiar snap-hiss brought the crimson red blade to life. He looked at the stone and then with a quick downward strike, the blade hit the stone. Normally it would have been cut into pieces, in this case the stone remained in tact and undamaged, in fact it was unscathed. He examined his handiwork and grinning he powered down the blade and clipped the hilt to his belt. He picked up the stone. Realizing what he had done, He had dabbled in Alchemy now and this was the result. This stone would make a good centerpiece in a Sith amulet, or could be a piece of a Sith blade. He had wrestled another secret from the Dark Side. It had granted him success in this ritual.
===========================================
Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
===========================================

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Kell Sangros
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Re: A New Training Center (Warvanus, Training)

Post by Kell Sangros » Mon Sep 28, 2020 9:46 pm

Warvanus entered the medical bay where Grison lay suspended in a bacta tank, his arms and legs gone, sacrificed to Warvanus as an offering for what he had done to him. Warvanus with all his cruelty had let him continued to live. He had not decided on what to do with the shell of a man. For now he would be his guinea pig for the experiement he was about to perform. Another effort to wrestle a secret from the Dark Side.
=Start Mindshard 600 words=

He stood in front of the bacta tank, the being inside was less than six feet away, and more importantly was in his line of sight. He called on the Dark Side, It never ceased to amaze the war-bringer on how effortless it became as he continued to grow in control and strength which lead him closer to Mastery. Every secret he wrestled from the Force only made him more a more powerful Sith Lord. Its infinite, sinister, seductive energy was without bounds and his to command as he saw fit. The dark side was as intoxicating as it was seductive, it was the perfect lover for one who craved its secrets.

He closed his eyes and let the Force flow through him, he was its vessel as its power was his. It was the perfect partnership. It flowed from head to toe and everywhere in between, it filled him with strength, cleared his mind, enhancing his focus. He touched the mind of his guinea pig. His probing awareness only brushed the surface of the mind. The mind gave none of its secrets away. He brought his power into sharper focus, willing to go deeper in the mind of his victim. The man in the bacta tank opened his eyes in sudden surprise, the intrusion was perceived. It mattered not to Warvanus who pushed deeper still into the man’s mind. In his perceptions it was a vast network of neural pathways like grouped bunches of cables, or endless highways. He let his awareness probe this new level of Grison’s mind. Through the Force he perceived that much more could be done to manipulate the mind, not just cause pain but much more Avenues he would have to explore another time. Warvanus pushed the distraction aside as he re-doubled his focus on the task at hand. The victim tried to push him out, with great personal effort to resist whatever Warvanus was going to do.

Warvanus perceived the resistance, Grison’s mental barriers rising up to block him in hopes to drive him out of his mind. The effort was notable but in the end It was futile, Grison could not use the Force. Through the Force the War-Bringer thought and willed to drive a knife into the mind of his victim. The Force obeyed his commands as he perceived the blade but in driving the mental blade into the mind willing the blade to stab deeply, when the blade stabbed the mind, the mental blade dissolved into nothing, Grison did not react it was as if nothing happened. Warvanus immediately broke off the link.

Failure was not acceptable, He contemplated his failure for a moment, when the answer came to him. He had not gone deep enough into Grison’s mind. He hated failure, he hated it so much and could feel the anger rise within him. He took that anger and channeled and focused it, to fuel his control and his growing power in the Force. Again he closed his eyes and extended his awareness to Grison’s mind. He was not going to be subtle and focused harder which allowed him to probe deeper into his victims mind going deeper than he had gone previously. It was like a tearing apart paper, He was not severing neural pathways as it was not permanent physical damage. If Grison resisted Warvanus was not aware of it, without thinking about it he looked at the highways of the neural pathways deep in Grison’s mind, and with his summoned power of the Force he willed a group of the pathways to be blocked, in his mind he envisioned those nerves to be grabbed and squeezed. Squeezed tighter than the physical hands could do. With his anger fueling his power he found it easy this time, he kept willing that invisible hand to squeeze even tighter.

=Pause App 640/600=
Grison felt his head pounding and throbbing, and then a pain he had never experienced it was as if his mind was being crushed literally, he would not be able to accurately describe what the pain felt like only it was worse than losing his limbs. Grison gave into the pain and unleashed a blood curling scream. The screaming sounded almost inhuman. His stubs he had for limbs flailed about inside the bacta tank. Warvanus watched with hatred, his intentions cruel, he had no apathy for this man. The man who had him frozen in carbonite, the man who dared to disturb him from his mission the one he was carrying out helping his master. He hated this man, and seeing him writhe in agony, endless agony brought a smile to the lips of the War-Bringer, the more he screamed the more Warvanus fed off of it.
=Resume=

The tighter Warvanus willed the section of the mind to be squeezed the louder and inhumane the screams became. As he had watched his victim he considered his failure, His failure came because he was not deep enough in the mind of his victim, how he could wreck inhumane pain, though this technique would be more of a challenge for an Adept of the Force. He would need to practice. With no warning Warvanus broke off contact. He was exhausted, the technique had made him tired , he would practice at this range, then further back, his goal would be to be able to do this technique and not even be in the room, he did not know if this was possible but he would try regardless. Practice would lead to Mastery.

=End Mindshard App= 132/600
Total: 772/600
===========================================
Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
===========================================

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Kell Sangros
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Posts: 813
Joined: Thu Sep 14, 2017 12:39 pm

Re: A New Training Center (Warvanus, Training)

Post by Kell Sangros » Sun Oct 25, 2020 1:09 am

Location: Ziost

Warvanus stood on a good sized ledge on a mountain on the ice world of Ziost, a snowstorm was raging all around him. His Apprentice Kinta Vetasa had accompanied him as they had spent some of the time with her training. Through the Hall of Archives Warvanus had read about a very destructive power in the Dark Side. It was called Force Destruction. He had spent hours and days of study and meditation, this advanced technique required alot of devotion before the attempt. His apprentice stood behind him about ten feet away.
=Begin Force Destruction App=

Warvanus closed his eyes, and breathed deep, he took a breath in and with it he summoned the power of the Dark Side , pouring his hatred, anger, blood lust, and his battle lust all used to fuel the power and fury of the Dark Side. Even now it still amazed the War-Bringer how easily and naturally this came, it was a testament of his mastery and strength in the Dark Side. His apprentice Kinta Vetasa stood to a short distance, he could feel her dark aura and he fed on it fueling and feeding his own power further. He could feel his own energy field swelling with the rising power. It magnified his natural senses and his senses in the Force making them razor sharp, his mind sharp and clear. He felt physically energized.


In the realm of the Force there was little that Warvanus could not do. With the understanding and aptitude he possessed it had allowed him to accomplish any feat he sought to achieve. He brought his hand up palm upward as if he was holding something but nothing was there. Warvanus began to channel the summoned power, pulling the swelling energy that engulfed the energy field surrounding him and willed it into his outstretched hand. He had mastered Control, the cornerstone of his training, though his efforts were not in vain as a orb sized ball of energy began to materialize in his hand. The ball of flowing Dark Side energy was faint, unstable and definitely not a threat to anything. The War-Bringer turned his focus on the growing ball of dark side energy that was becoming terrifying to behold, and asserted his dominance over it, He would control the summoned energies, and yet the War-Bringer would continue to siphon the summoned energy of his energy field and with his iron will he would feed the energy to the orb, which now was growing opaque in color,stronger, and the Dark Side was becoming more potent as more and more energy was fed to it.

More and more energy fed into the ball seemingly floating off of the War-Bringer’s hand. The Dark Side had invaded his mind, whispering sinisterly in his mind, planting seeds of doubt and weakness in his mind. It was almost like torment, pure oppression threatening his resolve with the oppression came the pain as if daggers stabbed the backs of his eyes, spreading to his mind its intent on breaking his concentration. He wanted to give in to surrender to the pain and the oppression. Anything to make it stop, He wanted to give in and give up but that was a sign of weakness, Warvanus was not weak.

The lapse of concentration was enough, the ball of energy began to be clear as its potency and energy contained were diminishing. The very task threatening to dissipate He grunted and furrowed his brow and redoubled his efforts, It was not enough as he watched the ball of energy dissipate all around him.

He clenched his hand into a fist, his knuckles bare white as he clenched his fist more and more, The white hot anger now rising like a flood in Warvanus as if the Dark Side itself was working against him and won. As the energy had dissipated so did the pain and the oppression that weighed on his mind like a heavy blanket. Why had he failed? He had read the texts on the technique. None had made mention on what happened. Just as soon as the thought entered his mind, Understanding dawned on Warvanus. It had made no mention because of the cost because if one could not overcome it they were not only strong enough but also not worthy to learn the ability. It was a test and at the moment Warvanus had failed.

Warvanus would refuse to admit he was weak. He would not accept it,He would not be conquered by failure. He would not admit defeat. He was unprepared for what happened. The Physical realm had broken his concentration as the Dark Side had tested his resolve and in that moment had failed. It would not happen a second time. He would not allow it. The Dark Side would yield! Warvanus once again drew on the Dark Side, in it he poured the over abundance of anger and hate. Anger at his failure, Hate for the Dark Side itself for daring to try to make him stumble in his studies. He drew on any energy he could sense, once more his energy field began to swell once more. He opened his fist and with his mastery of control he drew the energy from his energy field to his hand. Once more the ball reappeared clear, unstable. Slowly he had asserted his dominance and mastery to gather more and more energy into the ball of energy. The ball once again getting darker and opaque becoming more potent. Then as expected it had happened again.

There would be a cost for Warvanus’ lust for knowledge and power it would be a price Warvanus would willingly pay over and over.

The Dark Side would not surrender this secret so easily as he could feel the heaviness the Dark Side laid on his mind. Once more it sought to sap his willpower, trying to plant the seeds of doubt and weakness In his mind, then came the pain once more. First it was behind his eyes, and then his head felt as if it were on fire, Warvanus gritted his teeth and took the pain and with his anger and hate he turned it into raw power, power he fed to the growing orb. Inwardly he taunted the Dark Side to give him more pain, taunted it to make it more intense. The Dark Side was all but willing to oblige him. The increased pain was harder to ignore. He could barely ignore the physical pain that now assaulted his very joints, muscles and his bones. He felt as if his body was burning from head to toe inside and out. He resisted the urge to scream, he took it all. The pain the oppression all of it he poured it into the ball of energy, transforming it into power, power for the ball in his hand, more and more it swelled in power the potency of the Dark Side increasing but not in appearance. In appearance it was about the size of a handball but the energy contained was tightly compressed. He could feel it through the Dark Side.

The War-Bringer looked at his creation. The purplish-blue handball size of pure dark side energy rested in his hand it appeared to have a heartbeat of its own as he could feel it pulsing in his hand. He could barely hold it in his hand, his arm feeling heavy just to lift it. He held the ball in his hand, keeping it under his control as long as he could. If he were to lose control again it would be far more destructive at this stage. It could ultimately cost him his life as well as the life of his apprentice. A cost the War-Bringer was not willing and would not pay. With great physical effort he extended his hand toward the mountainside and with all the control he had left in him, he willed its release. The awesome ball of energy slammed into the mountainside with a thunderous explosion. Snow,ice and rock debris rained everywhere on the ledge as the ledge itself had shook. The ball had collided with its destination. When the dust cleared the mountainside had a hole where a tall rock mound once had been. The damage was not significant on a grander scale as it was not something that could be seen at a distance. From where the War-Bringer stood he had blown a hole in the part of the mountain In front of him.

The feat did not come without a price. Warvanus found himself to be covered in sweat, he shook as if he had overextended the muscles in all his limbs. His body ached inside and out. He could barely stand or lift his arms or even his head to examine his handiwork. In one aspect he felt as he had been cooked both on the inside and out. First he found himself laboring to breathe. Next he had hit his knees and then was on all fours as he tried to get his breathing under control again. It was several minutes before Warvanus could barely stand on his feet under his own power. He ached. But it had all been worth it as the War-Bringer had unlocked one of the most destructive powers a practitioner in the Dark Side could learn. He had discovered the secret of Force Destruction. This new ability would not be something he could summon so quickly or easily but it was now in his arsenal and he would make use of it. With practice he would improve and it would come more easier to him.
=End Force Destruction App=
1520/1200
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Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
===========================================

User avatar
Kell Sangros
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Posts: 813
Joined: Thu Sep 14, 2017 12:39 pm

Re: A New Training Center (Warvanus, Training)

Post by Kell Sangros » Sat Oct 31, 2020 12:17 am

=Location: Yavin IV=

Warvanus had made it back to his shuttle, fatigued, famished, thirsty, sore covered in sweat from the experience inside the temple. He held Akaan Burkida in his hand as he laid it on his lap as he had started to eat a meal his first in over a week. After he had gotten some rest and meditated and freshened up. All the while he had thought about the experience he had with the encounter of Exar Kun. No recorded history had fully told what became of him, he was assumed dead and physically he was. Something bound him to the temple or he perferred it. Nobody knew for sure. After some more rest he would return to the Temple to explore.

=Begin Psychometry 300 Words=


Warvanus kept himself open to the currents of the Force as he walked. The hallway in the temple was dimly lit from the daylight outside. He stopped and pressed his hand on the stone wall. It was cool to the touch, a bit damp like a moss stone. As his hand pressed against the stone he stretched out with the Force, extending his awareness, his perceptions never leaving the rock. He could feel the age of the Great Massassi Temple, and the imperfections in the stone, time had seen to that and almost as if he knew what he needed to do, the thought he had earlier meditated on bubbled to the surface.

“What Became of Exar Kun?”

He closed his eyes drawing on the Force. Warvanus had heard of techniques to look into the past by physical touch of an object, some called it Force Echos or Retro-cognition. He deepened his concentration with the thought of the Ancient Sith Lord’s fate reverberating through his mind, shutting all other thoughts out from his mind. His head began to pound as if his head was on fire on the inside. He had a migraine headache, the very light threatened to cause him to lose the contents of his stomach as well as it threatened to distract him. He kept his focus he pushed the throbbing in his skull aside. First came the burning smell of lit torches, and then the sounds he could hear the crackle of the torches as their fires raged. He could hear the sound of many footsteps as if it was a busy hallway, the pain in his skull did not let up, it remained steady. The sounds becoming more pronounced by the minute had ultimately forced Warvanus to open his eyes. It pained him greatly as he tried to focus on what he was seeing unfold, only to find himself face to face with a tall thick Massassai warrior, He could not move out of the way in time, the warrior had passed through him as if he was not there.

=Pause App= 346/300
Warvanus followed the warriors until he reached a central chamber, the chamber was flat with a stairway going up to a small platform where two Massassai warriors stood and in between them a human, The War-Bringer at once recognized him as Exar Kun. He made for the stairs and climbed them. His fascination with what he was witnessing seemed to bring the pain in his skull to a duller roar.

“The Republic is in our space. Ulic betrayed me” he said “Did you gather everybody?” The Massassai spoke in a tongue that Warvanus recognized. It was the Sith tongue. Through listening and what he already knew Warvanus put together that his apprentice, the High Priest of the Krath, fallen Jedi Ulic Qel Droma been caught on Ossus and stripped of the Force had switched sides and had lead the Republic and the Jedi here to take the Dark Lord alive. Kun would not go quietly, He had also surmised that Exar Kun ordered all his subjects to gather so that he could perform a ritual that would destroy his enemies.That he would not be confined to using traditional means of travel. He watched as Exar Kun enacted the ritual in which he had shed his spirit from his body and binding him to the Great Massassai Temple.
=Resume App=

The Vision ended abruptly as the pain overtook him. He steadied himself as he fully came back to himself. Gone were the torches, the occupants. Warvanus found himself in the temple alone. The pain in his head started to ebb away, He had read to the uninitiated that the headache was to be expected, headaches or seizure. This was not something he could summon on command even though it appeared to have happened on his whim. He knew if he were to try to force it on him again that it would not happen. At first he thought that maybe it happened because he touched the same stone that Exar Kun himself had but he only saw the Sith Lord when he moved to the main chamber. He then deduced that it had been a stone that one of the ancient Massassai warriors had touched. He did not know if this would happen again or not, but either way he would be ready. He would need to meditate on what just occured and the ability that he had been granted.

=End App= 180/300
Total: 526/300
===========================================
Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
===========================================

User avatar
Kell Sangros
Full Member
Posts: 813
Joined: Thu Sep 14, 2017 12:39 pm

Re: A New Training Center (Warvanus, Training)

Post by Kell Sangros » Tue Jan 05, 2021 12:14 am

***MASTER POWER: DEADLY SIGHT 5000 Word Req***
A Pair of guards wheeled a portable table into the small room. The portable med table had a patient strapped to the table with old fashion leather straps. The man contained within did not offer a struggle, even though he was conscious. The guards that transported the man bore the crest of twin lightsabers criss-crossing with the emblem of the Sith Empire in the background. This crest on their uniforms belonged to Darth Warvanus, the hand of the Emperor. They were performing instructions given to them by his senior apprentice Kinta Vetasa to place this table deep inside one of the many non-descriptive rooms located deep in the stronghold on Sojourn’s primary the world designated as Karza, the domain of Darth Warvanus. The table now was positioned in the center of the room. The man who had been responsible for Warvanus’ imprisonment in carbonite now laid on the table. At one time in another life when he was still Kell Sangros this man was like a brother. They had fought together, defended their homes from raiders together, saved each other’s life on multiple occasions, and unbeknown to Kell, had been in love with the same woman. Now, This man was hated above any other in the eyes of the War-Bringer as he represented what he once was, before the Sith found him, before Darth Tormentous had claimed him as his apprentice. He was weak, the fact that they both loved the same woman bore no significance to this feud. The circular room had no windows and dimly lit the only illumination coming were from the torches. The gray tiled floor shone in its immaculate state. Grison laid on the table helpless to move or even to attempt to escape. The prisoner was without arms or legs and with no synthetic limbs, he would not be going anywhere.

Against one of the rounding wall was another table. This table was littered with old texts laid about along with notes and various accounts. Pieces of information and musings on past Sith Lords who had attempted what Warvanus was about to do. Standing by the table of the scattered pages stood Kinta Vetasa, who had the distinction of being Warvanus’ most loyal apprentice. She had been bidden to bear witness on the experiment that her Master was about to do. She took it as a great honor to bear witness. The sound of crackling torches was all that animated the room. The War-bringer had entered the small chamber mere minutes later. Everything had been prepared. The entry of the War-Bringer had seemed to amplify the rising terror in the man who was strapped to a table. His breathing became quick, shallow breaths. It had seemed to add to the majesty of the chamber. Warvanus’ presence commanded as such, as he radiated power, and was battle hardened, He was among if not the top General in the Sith. He was devoted to the Dark Side, and to his Emperor. “The Dark Side of the Force is a gateway to many abilities that some consider to be un-natural.” These words belonged to Darth Sidious, Warvanus remembered them as they not only gave a simplification on the nature of the Dark Side but they also applied here, as he would tap into something that was very dark and by its very nature was un-natural and deadly.

This experiment was something that went against the very laws of nature itself. It was a corruption in the realm of the Force it was like a Dark stain on a pure white wall. A Terrible but rare power even in the Sith Empire’s past. Time and obscurity saw to it that this power had been considered lost through the ages. Past Sith Lords had tried to accomplish this very rare ability they all had failed. In their failure they had recorded their own notes and knowledge which had been kept in the Hall of the Arcane. Darth Warvanus had assembled the knowledge from these pieces, among them the jewel of this collected knowledge had been the notes from the Dark Jedi Saris, the only known practitioner of the ability. His own notes and theories on the ability also laid among the gathered lore. His own theories were untested, something that would soon be rectified. He had studied and in theory had learned it but to truly possess a power you must perform it. This was just another secret to rip from the Force to claim as his own. Only it wasn’t. This was the most destructive and deadliest power he was going to attempt. Even more so than Force Destruction. its very nature aligned deeply with the Dark Side. Darth Warvanus would use all his potential to learn this power. He had first learned of its’ existance in the Halls of the Arcane during his apprenticeship. Mentioned only in passing it had stayed within the mind of the then Sith Apprentice. In those studies he had come across the power of Deadly Sight, a power if performed successfully could kill a person or a group of people just by looking at them. Anyone and anything in his sight would suffer while performing this power. In some accounts the victims would smoke as they burned and as they burned they would de-atomize, in others the victim deatomized or evaporated as it happened. From his studies the latter would occur if the wielder was exceptionally strong in the Force.

According to the texts it was not known if the field of this unleashed power could be narrowed. In the way he could pick and choose who would die by his gaze, to look at one who he did not target while using this power and have nothing happen but to have the target stand next to that person and be de-atomized. This line of thought proved to be a distraction, this was not the time or place. This would be something the War-Bringer would explore in greater detail and with more energy at another time. First he needed to learn how to use this power first, then he could meditate on his theories on it in regards to its use and limitations, At a time when he has mastered Deadly Sight then he could explore the subtleties of it. Warvanus had learned to kill in many different ways throughout his studying, and training. He had learned to be quite efficient at it. Deadly Sight was another and a very different to kill a target. It was no surprise that this appealed to the War-Bringer, Just by a mere look this would be something new. It would be godlike, claiming this power would elevate him to the level of a true Master. The power to kill by a mere look would install a new wave of fear into those who crossed his path. Fear he could transform into more power. Fear he could use to further his own goals, fear he could use to impose his rule. He had to have this power. He lusted after it, as a man would lust after a woman. He would stop at nothing to claim it as his own,it was his by right to claim it. He had stumbled on the notes left by Saris shortly after his ascension to the rank of Sith Lord. During his apprenticeship he did not have access to the information he had sought. He had been the one to begin the chain of events to bring the lost ability back to the galaxy. This was his to claim as his own, he would make the ability no longer lost. There would be a new practitioner. A distinction that Warvanus craved. He would leave his own mark in the annals of Sith Lore and History. His name would forever echo with reverence in the halls of the Sith not only for this but for his prowess in battle. This ability was unlike anything he had ever accomplished or attempted. Warvanus approached the table where Kinta stood and reviewed the notes one more time. He then turned and approached the center table.

He stood over the helpless man strapped to the table. He looked down upon the man as if studying him and committing him to memory. Grison was pathetic, a shell of what he used to be, all of which he was became forfeit when he went after Warvanus. The fact he had at that moment had the upper hand brought a fresh wave of anger and hatred in the man, and anger at himself for allowing such an indignity. In the look he gave Grison he showed his contempt and his hatred. A hate that was unrivaled to any of his enemies. He would need it as this ability was fueled on Anger and Hate. Soon Grison would experience the full wave of his cruelty. The War-Bringer called upon the Dark Side of the Force, a mere thought had summoned its’ vast infinite intoxicating seductive energy, ready to be bent to the will of the caster. With his will the War-Bringer started to gather the power to himself as it absorbed into his energy field that surrounded him, like it surrounded every living thing. It would not only surround his energy field but his energy field would grow in potency, strength and power with what he was doing. He was like a magnet, the Force was being drawn to him.

The Dark Side was alive in him. It flowed through him, he could feel its’ seductive power coursing through him, energizing him, sharpening his senses, heightening his awareness and sharpened his mind as well as re-enforcing his iron clad will. It never ceased to amaze him how second nature it had become for him. it was natural for him. The Dark Side was a very strong and big part of him just as his limbs were a part of him. Through his training he grew stronger, experienced and knowledgeable in the Force. He brought his gaze downward again for another brief moment. He could feel the fear pouring off from Grison. It was rolling off with the intensity of tidal waves destroying all in it’s path but, it was also like a raging flood. It was much like a wounded animal whose scent had been found. Grison was the prey and Warvanus was the apex predator. The air was succulent with fear. He gorged himself off his foe’s mounting terror and building hysteria. He transformed it into even more power. He took it in and added it to the many offerings to the Dark Side, it would add to His own energy field which was swelling like an engorged tick about to burst. It would not stop Warvanus. He radiated power. He could feel the power of his apprentice and he fed off her power adding it to his own. Never had the War-bringer had absorbed so much power, anymore and it would certainly destroy him.

This was even more power than what he had summoned when he discovered Force Destruction. This surpassed that effort by leaps and bounds. It was intoxicating he found if he surrendered to it that he could lose himself in the currents of the Dark Side never to return. The thought of absorbing his being into the Dark Side would make him even more powerful, it was not a temptation Warvanus put any stock into. He felt as if the universe itself was his to manipulate as he saw fit. He was like a god ready to unleash his will. He could feel something trickling down his face. An absent wipe from his nose would reveal blood. He paid it no mind. The barely contained power was beginning to take a physical toll on him, but he ignored it for he was drunk with the power of the Dark Side. He felt like a god. With his potential he would accomplish anything he set his mind to. Crossing into the threshold of true Mastery was in his sights. The Dark Side would concede or he would die trying. He cast his radioactive sickly yellow iris’ on the embodiment of his hate once more. It was time to begin.

Warvanus could sense Grison through the Force. He knew this man, in another life this man was like a brother, now the embodiment of his darkest emotions like hatred and anger. Two powerful engines to fueling the power of the Dark Side. He had no empathy for Grison, his sole desire was to dish out the full potency of his cruelty. His presence in the Force was static, his imprint was nothing of significance, destiny did not swirl around this pathetic shell of a man. His presence felt like a house of cards, in appearance stacked and solid but weak ready to crumble at the slightest wind. His purpose was to further the needs and plans of the strong. In this case Warvanus. Grison did not walk in the currents of the Force and after the trauma that had been inflicted on him, his presence had diminished even further like a vibration that was losing strength in its potency. He could sense the screaming nerve endings in what was left of his limbs, no doubt causing pain from the loss of his limbs. He could feel his blood flowing, his heart beating, his mounting fear that was close to birthing outright terror.

He pushed his senses deeper, past the physical, he had to sense him to the level down to the very cells that made him up. Down to the Midi-Chlorians themselves. In Grison’s limited number of them he could perceive them just barely as he attempted to deepen his focus. He’d push his senses deeper to a more precise level as if it were a sniper shooting the fly off of a apple. Errant thoughts however threatened to break the concentration of Warvanus. Idle thoughts, matters of state and the Emperor’s goals tried to bubble to the surface of his mind. He was distracted as a result. He could barely perceive the organelles that ran interference for the Force. He could still sense Grison but only at the base level and even that was now becoming more difficult. Warvanus poured his re-newed anger into his efforts. Allowing him the will to allow him to drive those distractions down and to re-affirm his focus. He saw immediate results when he once again could perceive the organelles clearly. He could not manipulate them. In one sense he could try to goad them to shut his body down, much like Darth Plageuis had done to King Verona of Naboo. To do that would end in utter failure as he concluded this was not the right approach. He brought his focus on the cells and the task at hand.


The War-Bringer began to put this summoned energy to use but only expending some of the gathered energy from his energy field. He let it surround, envelop, and permeate the man laying on the table. Grison was immersed completely with the summoned power of the Dark Side. Power that was bent to Warvanus’ will and would only obey the War-Bringer. Warvanus would not extend all of it. He would do enough so that his will would be carried out for the task. Grison was not a force sensitive so he could not perceive what Warvanus was doing. It was as if the clay was ready for the potter to mold and shape it as he saw fit and if needed he would destroy it. Such was the same with Grison. He would bring him to the state of being clay though not literally clay, and then he would smash it completely, he would put him in pieces. The principles according to his study was very similar to Combustion but it also had similarities in technique to Pyrokinesis. Deadly Sight was a marriage of these abilities, but it was more than that, taken to a new extreme.

Fortunately both abilities Warvanus was well versed in. With Grison fully immersed in the power that Warvanus had brought upon him, Warvanus pushed his will. He employed the engines of the Dark Side and poured his hatred and fury as he gazed at him with a glare, one filled with a unrivaled level of hate. His Radioactive Iris’ locked on the face of the man who did not deserve to die, no he wanted his pain to be eternal. Had he had the level of knowledge in sorcery he would make it happen, Willing the victim to start to burn from the inside and outside. Sweat was forming on Warvanus’ brow as he began to exert himself in the effort. Grison laid there, there was more than fear, there was terror but also resignation. Resignation that he would not live to ever see freedom or to rejoin his hand-picked crew providing they still lived. What Grison did not know was his crew was dead. Killed by Warvanus’ Sith Forces. He noticed Warvanus glaring at him. he could feel his skin begin to feel hot, like a sunburn. Warvanus grinned cruely he was doing it, soon all would fear him. This power was his now, his to do with as he willed, As soon as those thoughts bubbled to the surface the power lessened as it had slowly abated. The attempt collapsed like a house of sabbac cards. Warvanus’ mind was focusing on the end result which would be Grison’s death, as well as letting his pride cloud his efforts and as a result his focus and concentration had broken again and as a result the attempt failed despite his best efforts to prevent it. He would have to try it again from the beginning.

He slammed his fist on the table. The fist landing inches from Grison’s head. Frustration apparent in his features, as well as His rising white hot anger. He would have started to beat the man to a bloody pulp but he needed him alive. If he was to succeed in his experiment Grison had to live and he would need to figure out what he had done wrong. So beating the man to death despite the primal desire to do so was definitely out of the question. He had to walk away and collect himself.


He Walked back to the table with the texts and tomes he once again studied them in the attempt to figure out where he went wrong. Why had it not worked? He don’t know how long he poured over the notes, nothing he read gave any indication on where he had gone wrong. Failure was the best teacher it was said. He even used it in his own teachings to the Acolytes who studied under his feet. It was what some called Jedi Wisdom but it was true, through his failure here he would learn from it and he would be successful and he would reach his goal. He could feel the terror rolling off of Grison, his frustration continued to mount in its intensity, as no answers or revelations were coming to him, He could not bear the rising maelstrom of anger any longer. He waved a hand and a chair went flying smashing against the wall. The chair had flew over the table Grison was strapped to and had it been wooden it would have shattered into pieces. The sound of the chair gave Grison a start which did nothing to calm his terror. Not that Warvanus was inclined to make his guinea pig feel at ease. Though it helped in burning off some steam, enough to get his head back into the task at hand. What Warvanus also felt and did not expect was that his apprentice flinched, though she did not physically flinch, the gesture the releasing of his frustration did put her on edge.

He went back to the texts. Reading and re-reading, studying them along with his own notes on his theories on the power. Only one Force user had mastered this ability. He had failed to consult the notes that Saris had recorded. Warvanus had to succeed here where others had failed he wouldn’t and his foolishness was conspiring against him. How had Sariss been able to do this and as he read the answer began to dawn on him. The reason for his failure now clear as day. He had taken a completely wrong approach all because he had mis-read Saris’ notes which had caused him to believe certain aspects of the power could be preformed a certain way which had caused the completely wrong approach. He had tried to narrow the target, like a sniper but he could not do that. This was almost like a wave in the way that living being who was in his path of vision would be victim to it. He could’nt do it from the inside out like he had been attempting. The revelation came to him as clear as day. How he had been a fool. He had to pour his hatred into the stare. He had to corrupt the wave of power he was going to project. That any caught in it would burn and vaporize and it all had to be triggered by the stare. He did not fully understand but he was starting to. He had been taking the wrong approach. It was increasingly becoming clear as more and more understanding started to become clear to Warvanus. Despite the ability being fueled on emotion he needed to have his mind empty of distraction. He needed to have iron clad concentration, iron clad will, and white hot anger and festering hatred. He had to have tunnel vision when performing this as so he would destroy anyone he did not wish. He closed his eyes and started to clear his mind emptying it of doubt, the frustration. In this revelation his confidence grew. In his attempt moments ago his concentration was not truly iron clad. His head not fully cleared he should have not made the attempt to perform such a thing. He was a fool for attempting such a rare powerful dangerous ability with no respect or reverence for what he was trying to do. This ability could easily destroy him as well as his target and he had made a careless approach. He was a fool. He would not make the same mistake a second time.

He took a breath and let it out. Then another. After several breaths he felt ready. He slowly returned to the table where Grison laid helpless. He did not look at him. Once again, Warvanus would try again. First he would clear his head of any lingering thoughts that would distract him. Nothing mattered, except destroying the embodiment of his hate with just a stare. This was all that mattered. He brought his concentration and will to bear. Everything else was of no consequence, Nothing but performing the experiment. Nothing else existed but the task at hand. Warvanus once more called upon the Dark Side of the Force, Once more he started gathering energy feeding it to His energy field. He was Effortlessly willing more and more energy to swell his field once more like a tick gorging itself. Like a Balloon growing in size, only his field was growing with power, such dark power. Dark power that would be bent to the fire of his will. He fed off of the fear that Grison was feeling which was growing more intense by the minute as even he knew that something would be happening or that maybe he perceived his end was very near.

It was deep seeded fear, the kind that nothing could calm. If Grison had the means he would have been trying to run, logic and rationale was not with him, this fear was an emotion, it was raw primal emotion. It was raw emotion Warvanus would use and with his will would transform into power. Once more feeding off the energy of his apprentice as she lent her efforts once more. More and more power gathering to his energy field. As it swelled he closed his eyes tighter as he erected mental barriers that would ensure that his mind would remain emptied of things that would cause him to fail, his mind and thoughts that would act as distractions were cast aside. Once more he was breathing in and breathing out. This was his time to commune with the Dark Side he had to come into it with an empty mind, a willing vessel but with a unbendable will, so that he could perform the experiment. He could feel the blood once more trickling down his nose, both nostrils were bleeding now. He was barely aware of it, in his mind he took it as a good sign as he was absorbing dangerous levels of Force energy. He ignored the realization and casted it aside. He cast aside the temptation to lose himself in the madness that were the currents of the dark side, they had begged him to surrender himself to it. He had to remain in the physical, grounded. Once more Warvanus began to surround and envelop Grison with the Dark Side. It surrounded him, penetrated him, there was not one part of him inside and out that was not exempt from the Force. The Dark side oppressed Grison, and Warvanus both. It was like a heavy wet cold blanket on a humid day. It was a crushing weight on their minds. It was all that and more. The difference was Warvanus was a practitioner of the Dark Side and while he felt the oppression, it did not cause him to falter. The power bent to his unbendable will. His awareness of Grison were deep in his perceptions but they were not critical for the task but it did not help, it kept Warvanus grounded on his task, on who his target was.


Through the Force he gathered the stored energy he poured his anger, his malevolence into it. The heat of his anger and hatred burned. It burned hotter than anything he had ever felt, he asserted his dominance in pouring his will into his efforts. He summoned his hatred of this man. It was a level of hatred he had never felt for anybody living or dead, not even for the man who claimed to be his father. Warvanus opened his eyes and cast his gaze downward at the man on the table. The sight of him incited even more hatred. The kind of hatred where killing him just once was not enough. He wanted to kill him over and over, a thousand times would not be enough. The stare from his radioactive yellow iris’ held a stare of a fraction of this hatred. The eyes could not express the full intensity of hatred he felt for this man, now words could give enough emphasis. He was exerting more and more effort into it. His summoned hatred was so potent, fueled not only for his hatred of Grison but of all his enemies, of every single being who had done him wrong, or who stood in the way of his goals, it was all channeled into the stare with it being fueled by the Dark Side which had transformed into deadly energy. His gaze locked on the eyes of his prey. He did not concern himself with focusing on Grison which was where he had erred in his last attempt. He had wanted Grison in his perceptions so when Grison died that he could sense the glorious pain he would be enduring. The energy from his energy field was unleashed like a wave. Not visible to the eye but it hit and went through Grison. He knew something was different with this attempt but it was not until he could feel that Grison’s body began to break down. Warvanus’ will and his will alone was being done. He narrowed his eyes as He fed the flame of his hatred.

The wave of Dark Side energy released by the stare Warvanus gave Grison went through Grison. As it went through him he could feel his insides heating up first it was like heartburn, then the pain spread feeling like a sunburn consuming his body. It was more intense than anything he had felt ever in his pathetic life. His skin turned lobster red as if severe sunburns then blisters and sores started to appear on his skin then his skin started to turn black as if he had third degree burns devouring him. Inwardly he could feel the same as he did on the outside, it was as if his insides were on fire. Smoke started to rise as did the fires. He could not speak he could only scream. The scream he released was unlike anything a living creature should ever have to release. The pain he was enduring could not be expressed. It was guttural primal screams of an animal being tortured, mutilated and slowly burning alive as Grison’s body began to breakdown, dissolving before his very eyes, though at this point Grison could no longer see, but Warvanus kept his gaze as Grison’s body dissolved slowly what remained of his arms fell off into ash, It would have been a mercy to end his life quickly. Warvanus would not take his gaze off of him. Extreme exertion was evident in the features of Warvanus as was the look of smug triumph. It became more difficult to maintain the effort. His concentration began to waver again, and the heavy use of the Force was taking a heavy toll on Warvanus. He was so tired but he had to continue. It took all he had to maintain what he was doing he had to finish it as the fires of his will would not be extinguished not until it was completed. He grabbed the edge of the table with his hands to steady himself. More and more it became more of an effort to stand on his own power. The table now was supporting him on his feet.

As the screams began Kinta Vetasa discreetly made her exit. The screams were not contained to the room, but anyone within a couple of rooms away could hear the guttural screams. In those screams it wanted to be released from the mortal shell aching to be free of the pain, he wanted release. The smell of burning flesh began to fill the room. It would have sicken the apprentice but to the Master, it was another threat to his concentration. A distraction he cast aside without a conscious thought. As the flames continue to eat the flesh of its victim so did the screams persist, until they had ceased. Grison was dead but even after Grison died the fires burned and then what was left of the body of Grison began to all at once dissolve in the grand finale of the experiment. It did not explode as an object under Combustion would have but the building blocks of life no longer held the integrity of the burnt corpse together and it had collapsed, like a mountain into a pile of rubble but instead was a pile of ash with a set of leather straps laid bare on the table. Had Grison been burnt alive by natural means the body would be charred but intact.

Warvanus was breathing heavily from the exerted effort. Sweat had been pouring off his body, going down his face. He had brought a hand up to wipe the sweat from his eyes, his right hand went through his sweat soaked hair, the sweat cleared, had looked at his hand which had mingled blood and sweat which was in the field of his gaze It too began to suffer the same fate as Grison had. It began to burn. His hand continued to burn even as Warvanus was trying to turn off the power, to let go and come back to himself, anything to cease what he was now doing. Even in his failed attempts to stop, his hand had then started to dissolve. His right hand as well as half his forearm dissolved right off his arm. It dissolved like ash. The pain in his exhausted state was too much, the shock to his body of losing a limb was too much to shut out even with the Force. He had tried to turn off the pain with his mental conditioning but He was too tired and his efforts futile. He just did not stand a chance in his exhausted state. The thought to close his eyes never dawned on Warvanus as the Dark Side gave him a new ability but it had exacted a heavy cost. The Dark Side’s way of telling Warvanus that this was not ripped from the Force on his whim, but that the Dark Side had granted him what he wanted. As This was no ordinary secret he had been granted. The Dark Side also showed Warvanus who was supreme to put him back in check. Until now there was no living practitioner of the Force power Deadly Sight nobody since Saris could do what he had just done. Warvanus not only collapsed from the effort but his sudden loss sent him over the edge as he hit the ground as unconsciousness quickly overtook him.

Warvanus was not aware of his surroundings or how much time had passed. The last thing he remembered was ending Grison with the new secret he had taken from the Force. No not taken, been granted. What had been different from his previous efforts was the Dark Side this time demanded a hefty price, a sacrifice. As consciousness started to return, a dawning slowly bubbled to the surface of the memory of the Emperor’s Hand. He had done it but had suffered incredible pain immediately afterward. Then he remembered clearly as wakefulness continued to creep into the War-Bringer. He had done what he sought to do but then after wiping sweat from his eyes with his hand he had made the mistake of his hand being in the field of his gaze. He had lost his hand and part of his forearm as a result. He had not turned off the power before turning his gaze somewhere else and as a result of his folly he had paid the price. Not folly but complete stupidity. He should have let go. He should have closed his eyes after Grison’s body turned to ash. A being fueled on so much power and emotion it was exceedingly difficult to just let go and he had not been thinking clearly due to the drained state he was in. Slowly and cautiously he opened his eyes. He blinked slowly as he was coming back to himself. He slowly sat up, he was on a medical bed. He had tried to use his hands to sit himself up to find the attempt failed. The loss of his hand not fully dawning on him as he made the effort. He winced inwardly as he was in pain. His apprentice standing by the door. The loss of consciousness had “turned off” the power. He slowly raised his right arm to his view. He could not accept the fact he no longer had a hand. It was strange for him to look at his arm and not seeing his hand and half the forearm. It like Grison had just burned and fell off. With his good hand he grabbed on to the side of the med-bed to sit himself upright fully. He was still heavily exhausted, drained, and still in pain. The effort had taken a heavy toll on the War-Bringer. He would have to hone his swordsmanship with his left hand, that is until he had a prosthetic outfitted. He could not think about that now. He had to deal with the mental trauma of losing his hand. Being a Sith he would not wallow in it, he would become stronger for it that is what he reminded himself but whether he liked it or not or knew it or not he would have to come to grips with the lost hand.

He would learn it was his apprentice who had found him. Had she witnessed his folly he would have had to kill her to see him falter in such a stupid amateurish way. He rested until he was strong enough to walk on his own power. Warvanus returned to the room and slowly Warvanus approached the one table where the texts and tomes laid. He had never felt more spent then he did right now. He had known the ability would take a strain on the user more-so when it was the first time performing the ability, but he never imagined it would be at the level he felt. Even days later he still felt the exhaustion and strain the effort had put on him. He couldn’t levitate a datapad if he had tried as it had taken that much out of him. It was perfect time for him, for he would reflect and he would have to practice now that he had done it successfully. He had brought Deadly Sight back into the folds of the galaxy. He had hoped that he would find the next attempt a bit easier maybe even a little less draining. After a little rest and recovery he would meditate on the events that transpired within this room. He would commit the lessons that failure and folly brought him, and in the end he would be stronger for it. Future generations of Sith would maybe use this as a good example of failure being the best teacher. For now, Warvanus needed to recover and meditate.
***END DEADLY SIGHT APP 6334/5000***
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Darth Warvanus
=Lord of War=
-=Emperor's Hand=
=The War Bringer=-
-=Master of the Warhound Battlegroup=-
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