Concerning Sword Lore....

[Kell Sangros]

=Moraband=

The Magnetar arrived to the Sith world, the seat of power as it were. Shortly after the Heavy Naga class Dreadnaught returned to real space , a firespray departed heading to the planet. Aboard the Starfighter was Warvanus. The ship made its approach to the Citadel , as it did Warvanus looked down below and could see what was the Valley of the Dark Lords. The Dark Side was still strong here even after four millennia. He breathed in, taking the potentcy of the Dark Side into him.

“Making final approach” one of the troopers reported ,

Warvanus turned his attention to the viewport where the massive majestic yet sinister fortress stood. It was inviting but it was also menacing. The Dark Side was not for the weak. The ship landed and Warvanus disembarked. Shortly after the ship reascended to return to the Magnetar.

Warvanus began his walk. He was here with a purpose. He had studied much in the way of lore taken secrets from the Force. He had grown powerful and knowledgeable, He studied styles of fighting and war, and now he sought a new vein of knowledge. In times of old, Sith would use Lightsabers, and Swords, he knew that some had used materials that would withstand a lightsaber, they were the mighty titans of the Sith Order but now they were gone, he had sought the Archives for lore on sword making and he had come up with little. He would use the archives here and he would consult his Master.

Tormentous had forged his own blade. If any living Sith had a working knowledge it was him. Before seeking the archives he would seek an audience with the Dark Lord. The man was the mightiest among the Sith, he was also wise, and had also shown Warvanus the path to power he had started him on the dark path. A Path he followed with no regrets. He was Sith. When he approached the entrance to the throne room , two heavily armored figures guarded the doorway. There were no words spoken, no force tricks, the guards stood aside to admit the War-Bringer. Even in these hallowed halls the name Warvanus carried weight and respect and even his own level of reverence. All that were bestowed upon him by his deeds and battles and because of the Dark Lord Himself.

The doors parted with a loud groan, the solid metal doors probably laced with Cortosis Ore and Beskar he stepped through and made his way into the throne room. There on his throne was Tormentous, in all his dark glory. He knew he was here he had sensed him probably from before he disembarked. He would hide nothing from Tormentous. He considered himself his living vessel, his wrath, his executioner. He took a couple more steps closer to the throne and bent his knee and head in reverence for the one who sat on the Sith throne.

“My Lord and Master” Warvanus said while genuflecting

[Jacobi Wylcott]

In the time since Tormentous had resumed his rightful place upon the Throne of Skulls, he had not been complacent and rarely had he the time to actually sit and idle. Even when he held the moments of quiet he denied it. He had since devoted himself to the furtherance of not only himself - but the Sith Empire as a whole. Study and research had become second nature and even right now he served the Order of the Sith as it served him.

While apparently he sat in absolute silence it was his mind that was by far and gone into the depths of the Force. Deep meditation as he sought to unlock the secrets of a technique useful in the observation of visions of the future.

Such a task was by and large massively taxing and he welcomed the disturbance in the Force that had come with the arrival of his Warhound. No sooner had Warvanus set his boot upon the landing pad of the fortress had Tormentous felt his presence. Perhaps he would have sensed the arrival far sooner but his attention had been elsewhere and so the War-Bringer would receive no fanfare - not that Warvanus was overly amused by such mundane scenes but Tormentous saw it as the right of a Sith Lord to be recognized and he indeed demanded a return to the day in which a Force Sensitive Lord of the Sith was to be treated as royalty and for good reason - they were the masters of the Empire and they brooked no allowance otherwise.

From the moment the War-Bringer strode forth from the Firespray did the Dark Lord of the Sith commence the long process of pulling his mind back from the meditations he was in and by the time the warrior had arrived at the throne room and fell to one knee in respect, finally did the Dark One’s eye snap open to the arrival’s voice.

It took several moments for the discomfort of the Force’s presence to fade from his mind and once the pain was bearable again he properly acknowledged Warvanus.

“Rise,” he commanded without doubt that the man before him was worthy to stand tall and with a straight back, “Lord Warvanus, you’ve traveled long.” He took a low breath as his metallic voice growled in bass tones, “Come.”

The Dark One stood from the throne so adorned with the skulls of his most feared champions and reviled enemies alike - he stepped away from it but not before his right hand grasped the leather bound hilt tasked with silver threaded wire of Jidai Maras itself. An echo of sinister laughter cackled into the night as the Dark Side enjoyed the touch of the Dark One to the Sword of Damnation. The feeling of his nerves electrifying in agony shot through his arm and into his shoulder. He had to grit his teeth against the pain but he did so as he’d done so many times before and with a singular motion he swept it around and clasped it to the sheath upon his back. Part of him was thankful to release it once in place. Yet he said nothing and took broad steps to the side passages of the throne room.

They walked in silence for many moments. There was much to be said but even more to reflect upon in that very silence in which they walked. Moments like these, they did not come often and so they were reserved well.

Across the length of the fortress they moved until they arrived at the ‘rear’ of the structure where they approached a vast balcony overlooking a training square easily large enough to fit a thousand men in ranked formation. There before the two stood twenty humanoid beings standing rock still. Warvanus would know these men and women as one of the first of the graduating classes produced by the Sith Academy since Tormentous’ return. He would also know that they were currently enduring their final trial - the test of loyalty and endurance.

“This is the final day.” His metallic chime commented. These twenty were standing in their spots for the last one hundred and sixty-six hours. They had lasted through everything the Academy could throw at them and now for the last seven days they were enduring with absolute discipline, their final hours before becoming Sith Warriors. They were the finest batch to come through the Academy in years - not a single one of them had given in and moved which would forfeit the trial. Such was their dedication and devotion to their Lord, Darth Tormentous, who had commanded they remain so.

After momentarily admiring them for a while, he turned to view Warvanus. “When you return to the Magnetar, bring ten of these warriors with you. From among them you may choose an apprentice should you desire though it is not necessary. The more capable warriors that our fleets can field, the stronger grasp among the stars our hand may see.” He turned back to view his hosted initiates for a while though soon enough he could sense that Warvanus had something deep on his mind. He was seeking something. Unwilling to waste his pupil’s time he spoke once again.

“What has brought you to Moraband, Lord Warvanus?”

[Kell Sangros]

They both rose at the same time and as Warvanus rose his eyes darted to the fearsome Jidai Maras, He had never lusted after the weapon not like Blood had and Force knows who else. For all his knowledge he knew the mighty weapon was bound to his Master and its loyalty would never shift, and knowing this it could never fully corrupt him. He walked in step with the Emperor.

They walked in silence Master and Apprentice, despite all his growing knowledge and power in the Dark Side he still had much to learn, only a fool thought they knew it all. He had never been told but the War-Bringer had no doubt that the glorious Emperor still sought to grab secrets from the Dark Side and claim them as his own. The Sith were undergoing a change, one that he had a role in, from keeping Tormentous hidden until his power returned to his role now. Though if asked he would not deny the role he had in keeping him alive. He would’nt view it as something to boast about but considered it a great honor that he had gotten to serve in this matter.

They stopped at the balcony where the twenty humanoids stood. He listened as his Master explained who they were and their significance. The first batch of hopefuls who would serve the Red Cauldron. He remembered reading texts where Sith Masters would make hopefuls stand perfectly still for hours even days with promises of elevation and prestige only the truth was it amused Sith Masters of old. He knew this was not the case with Tormentous, he did not waste time on such frivolities or useful resources. “This is the Final Day” he had said as he spoke he looked at the future of their order, their Empire. He said in an almost state of awe.

“It will be Glorious, the first class of a new breed of potential Sith, they will serve you well Master”

He then turned as his Master spoke. He was giving him half of the first class, He bowed his head, he was honored that he would have his pick. Kinta Vetasa was close to being elevated to a full Sith Lord not only for her role in Tormentous’ re-ascendancy but the way she had lead the Krath and her growing power in the dark side. It was time to add a few apprentices to study at his feet.

“I am honored Master, they will serve us well” He studied the group for a few moments before the question of his arrival came up. He turned back to face his Master.

“I seek knowledge, as you know Sith Lords of old did not use exclusively lightsabers but also Sith swords, Naga Sadow, Marka Ragnos to name a few, through the ages alot of that lore had been lost, but yet you yourself forged and made Jidai Maras, what brings me here Master is I wish to learn this lore so that I may forge my own blade.” He paused then continued

“I have searched through the Sith Archives, my own library and have found little to none. I even had sent out agents to go to worlds like Onderon, and worlds with a history of our order in hopes of finding a small nugget, and have come up empty. The blade I wish to forge is one that our enemies will come to recognize and fear. I recently have learned the lore of Dark Side Alchemy as well as Sith Sorcery through my own study” He then reached and took out a red gemstone it pulsed as if it had a life of its own, Dark power radiated from it “I imbued this with the Dark Side and wish to set it into my blade” The gemstone rested in his palm so if Tormentous wished to examine it closer that he could.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

.
He spoke the name of his sword and the Dark One instantly felt the itch to draw it and bask in the glory of such a helblade. Refusing its temptation brought a pang of being left wanting and even the sword itself was left displeased, whispers echoed in his mind of the lost souls and he sneered them away to return to the moment. Turning away from the balconies’ edge he looked upon the Lord of the Warhound.

“A Sword of the Sith is not for the faint of will and poor of heart.” He paused and stared upon the War-Bringer for some moments and nodded but once. “You would wield a blade well. I could think of none other that is more worthy to take up iron in his hand to rend the foe asunder.”

With his judgement cast there was nothing more to say of the matter. The Darth was fully willing to grant his ally such secretive knowledge and he would leave none out - even then he would give insight in which to improve on his own technique. But there was much to be done here and Tormentous wasn’t known for his patience. They needed to get started immediately. Though impatient as he was he paused once again and accepted the beautiful gemstone from Warvanus. Examining it in his hand for a moment he could see not only the refined talent it had taken to carve this stone’s edges but the time it had taken in its creation and even furthermore he could sense the stone’s own latent energy - it was quite potent - Warvanus had done an exquisite job here.

Tormentous began walking once more with Warvanus in tow. “You do yourself a disservice. I sense you are not sure of yourself in the creation of a Sith War-Blade.” He extended his hand to the side and delivered the stone back to Warvanus. “With craftsmanship such as this I do not doubt you for a moment.” A rare compliment given and he fell silent for the remainder of the walk which took them into Tormentous’ inner sanctum.

The inner sanctum was where Darth Tormentous did his most serious study, research and private work where being bothered would only serve to distract him. It was also a place where he didn’t have to watch his back every moment of every day and night. A massive oak desk sat at the rear on a dais, wood hewn from the trees of Jakelia in the Mandalorian Sector, they were of excellent quality and considered a rarity on a world like this. Upon the desk sat many trinkets, dusty old scrolls and even maps of star systems. Tion was among them.

Behind the desk was the small tower pedestal in which he’d set his holocron. The - now old device - gleaned with a deep red hue and it reacted to his presence, unfolding and showing him images of the thoughts on his mind. They passed just beyond the pedestal to another chamber - a meditation chamber to be exact.

Once sealed within the two Sith Lords looked at one another and Darth Tormentous slowly drew the Blade of Jedi’s Bane. The thick leather hilt creaked under the pressure of his grip and the Dark Side of the Force shook with glee of the connection between the dire sword and the dire Sith. At once on its own it shone with a mirror surface though as soon as he took it up the blade began to react. A cold chill filled the room until their breath ghosted in their exhale. The sword’s shining blade frosted over with hoarfrost and the souls of so many lost screamed in the distance.

Inverting Jidai Maras he then released the sword and held it aloft with a grip of telekinesis. There the sword hovered, slowly spinning in place with now cold air drifting from its surface in a visible white mist.

“Before you gather material you will need to decide on the sword’s image. Be it a single longsword length blade. A double bladed warsword. Or be it as mine own, a hand and a half sword. Or even a greatsword.” He paused as he examined his own blade, still proud in what he had achieved, “This will be the final sword you ever make. See that it fits your personality as much as your personal expertise.”

“The first material thing you will need is sandstone from Moraband. This will bring with it the legacy of the ancient Sith. In each grain you will feel the presence of an age long gone. The portion will have to be exact and you will need much of it. Too much and you threaten to weigh your iron down too much, too little and the very essence of the Dark Side will be lacking. How much to be exact - this you will have to meditate long on.”

“This done, you will need sword steel. The active mines on our worlds of Gala, Lucazec or Vjun are suitable for this. You will require a very large stipend of iron ore from these worlds for you only will desire the finest product and there will be much waste. In my own efforts I took up an entire freighter’s worth of ore - for a single sword and I barely had enough for I would only accept the best of the cache. Obtain ingots in their purest form.”

“Next, there is a key here and you will have to search the depths of your soul to learn them truthfully.” He eyed Warvanus intently, “and you’re not going to like it.”

“You will need three portions of blood. Your own, from the one you hate the most above all, and from the one of whom you love the most - or loved. These three ingredients are crucial to the alchemical portion of the process.” Again he eyed Warvanus, “There can be no exceptions either, you must find these things. If Kell Sangros’ betrothed cannot be used then the blood of her closest kin. I have no doubt that you will find what you seek in your meditations.”

“Next - you will need to choose a location for the forging. Deep within the moon of Yavin IV can be found the sword forge of Exar Kun himself though there is danger in utilizing it for that ancient spirit still dwells within and may try to tamper with your machinations. Secondly he will pester you continuously and his temptations are very real and difficult to overcome. But his forge is of fine operation and I recommend it greatly. This is where Jidai Maras was formed.”

“Once the location and these materials are chosen - go there and see to it that the alchemical brew is to the exact specifications of which I will grant you. Keep the concoction boiling at all times through your own will, use no natural means in this process, only the Dark Side for you are making something that should not be, you must use the power of that which is considered unnatural. You must then go to the forging process. You must turn solid iron into folded steel. Fold it continuously and purify it. Use the most pure steel to form the core of the blade and then when it is ready to he toned in water - you will use the alchemical brew instead. Combined with the sandstone, blood and the steel of the sword you will slowly submerse the blade within all while affecting it with your mind, imbue the blade with the Dark Side itself. Then pull the blade and return to the forge, form the exterior of the blade and fold the steel again to purify it too. Douse the blade many times in the brew and in this final moment draw upon the lessons of Sorcery to tie everything together in its finality.”

“Finally in the end, you will name it and in its name you will give it life and power.”

“This process will not take hours as a blacksmith would hone a longsword. This will take many days and it will test your will at every turn for once you begin the process it cannot cease lest you break the essence of the sword and it will fail to be anointed in the Dark Side. In my case it took six weeks. Depending on the depth of your own process it may be earlier, just as long or even longer. The Dark Side can be fickle, you must commune with it and it will give you the strength to endure.”

With the basic instruction given, he awaited further questions or whatever Warvanus would seek. In every section of spoken word, Warvanus within this chamber would perhaps be able to see the distant memory of which brought the creation of Jidai Maras. Examples of which the War-Bringer would be able to use in the furtherance of his research here.

[Kell Sangros]

The Judgment laid on the Warhound by the Emperor was final and law as far as the War-Bringer was concerned. He had been deemed worthy He bowed his head in a gesture of gratitude and it pleased him that he had found favor with the returned Emperor. Had he not he would have been killed just for arriving unannounced. Had he not been deemed worthy he would not be given the lore he sought. He followed his Master as they walked as his Master examined his handiwork of the stone at which he had gotten the rare high praise, and considering the source it did not get any better than this. He took the stone and put it back into a pouch on his belt and as they walked again. He pondered on his Master’s words. Was he unsure?

He would not make excuses to his Emperor, if he was unsure it was only because he did not possess yet the knowledge in making a blade worthy of serving not only himself but Tormentous. He nodded, he knew that his Master knew his reasons. Once he had the knowledge he would excel in it as he did everything else.

He entered his inner sanctum and he was in awe of it. He wondered how many beings had the honor of seeing the Emperor’s personal sanctum. He was pretty certain the number was very low. Tormentous honored him with this. He took it all in. The Desk, the holocron, one day he would attempt to build his own. He continued to follow him until they were in his personal meditation chamber. It too looked majestic. If Warvanus did not feel honored by sanctum he was now that he was in the Emperor’s personal meditation chamber. Once sealed within he listened and observed as he drew Jidai Maras. He listened as Tormentous went into the involved ritual in creating such a weapon while he listened he examined the War-Blade. He listened to all that was involved. He knew he was capable of performing this ritual but he would have to prepare first, and as his Master said meditations was the first step. As safely guarded he kept this knowledge so Warvanus would do in kind as well. He did have questions and when his Master was done he asked.

“I already have a name for the blade, I will call it Akaan Kuryida” He began and as he said it he knew that his Master would know the meaning of the name as it was in the Mando’a as it translated to “War-Slayer”

“With the sand from Moraband as you said will connect it to the Ancient Sith, could the same be done with Mandalorian Iron? If I were to be able to secure a quantity of pure Beskar? Could it in theory also invoke the warrior spirits of the Mandalorians? I want this to be a blade of War”

he went on explaining that he wanted to have metals from the warrior cultures of the galaxy. He had no intentions of making substitutions It had been part of the reason he went on the pilgrimage and that ultimately led him to Tormentous. There was so many possibilities, but one thing was clear he would need to meditate he did know that the gemstone he had imbued with Darkside Alchemy he had named it the Eye of Akaan. He thought about the forges of Yavin IV he knew of the existence of the one Exar Kun had used.

“Was the forge the same one used by Naga Sadow in his experiments when he was stranded on Yavin?” if so that was a very ancient forge, and would suit him just fine. He would probably have even more questions as he studied this ritual in more detail. Even now questions were bubbling to the surface of his mind, but despite this, he knew one thing was certain the more he learned about it, the more convinced that he could do this.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

He grumbled in thought for a moment. Tormentous lacked the knowledge of the ancient iron of the Mando’ade though Wylcott knew it quite well having toiled in the forges himself to set the slat of his own armor. While he lacked the actual application of the iron, he did maintain the basic knowledge of its rarity and difficulty to utilize with the hammer and anvil. “Your suggestion holds promise.” With that notation he added, “The theory is correct in that such an added element would take the properties of the Mandalorian spirit though it will certainly not be as easy as sand stone from Moraband. I recommend a alchemical mixture of the two. Perhaps two to three parts sand with one part iron from Mandalore. I say this not only for the ease of its smelting for beskar iron cannot be so easily obtained in any quantity and then to lace the blade would prove difficult even for a master swordsmith. Though to mix the quality you will much easier entwine the blade’s steel. Be it known that beskar, phrik and cortosis are not necessary in the Sith Sword to make it resistant to a light weapon.” He pointed a finger to his temple. “It is your strength of will that will grant this property.”

A moment longer he thought on Warvanus’ theory and there was much in the way of merit. “There is also something essential to note. The Mandalorian spirit will not aid you as a Sith spirit would. They are a warrior caste as you know but they are bound to their traditions and their worlds by core values that the Sith lack. Honor plays a large role in their lives and while we practice a sense of honor the Mando’ade worship it. To serve our ways will not sit well with a true Mandalorian spirit. As you combine the finished blade with the spiritual aspect then you must seek not the hardline of their race but those that had allied with the Sith long ago.”

Tormentous shook his head. “Your search will not be an easy one for many of those spirit have gone on by now or have deteriorated among the sands of time. Though they will exist and I feel this is what you should seek.” He drew back and nodded now more confidently. “Which again is why I suggest the mixture for it will grant a sufficient link and your alchemical content and your spiritual content may blend properly with the physical content.”

As time progressed so did the questions and Tormentous was willing to share his knowledge in this. He recalled his foray into the jungles of Yavin IV and the treachery he faced there. Warvanus would not meet the same resistance of assassins though there was the lingering guardian spirits that despised Kun’s lair from being disturbed. Yes - if Warvanus desired to forge his blade here then he would be tested and tried - if he wanted it then he would have to prove to himself that he was mentally strong and steadfast - he would also have to appease the lingering guardians through martial prowess or mental strength.

He nodded, “The forges are the same. I once strode among the great temple of the massassi and you will do as well. You will not find a welcoming scene there as the spiteful remain and will desire to infect you with their essence that they may finally leave that place. You will have to prove yourself superior. I have little doubt that you will. You have been well trained and in the field well proven. They will suffer for their insolence though you should not let your guard down for they are Sith and will employ every deception to gain your blind eye to their will.”

[Kell Sangros]

Warvanus listened as Tormentous spoke, only a fool would not heed the words of the wise, Tormentous was wise, and Warvanus was not the fool, if he had been the fool he would not have made this trip to seek out the lore. This blade had to be worthy not only to serve the War-Bringer well but in turn serve his Emperor. Every nugget of knowledge he dispensed to the War-Bringer Warvanus committed to memory and to heart. He would do as he suggested when it came to Beskar. One part Beskar three parts Sands from Moraband, it made sense. While Warvanus himself did not have intimate knowledge of the rare mineral he did know enough that it would be difficult to mold and combining it with the sand made sense.

“If I am able to secure some Beskar I will do as you suggest Master” He paused “Ever since I first forged my armor, I have been scouring the galaxy for some” His armor was not made of the material. He revered the prowess of the Mandalorians he always had. He understood what he was saying about the spiritual aspect it made sense.

He gave the forges on Yavin some thought. “I have walked on the jungle moon, even from where I walked I could feel the power of the Dark Side coming from the Great Massassi Temple. Its guardians will not corrupt me or my creation but as you say Master I must be mindful” The more he listened the more it made sense and the better prepared he would be.

He had more questions and he asked and to his gratitude his Master answered them all, if he was successful in this ritual they would be the only living Sith who would possess such lore. He agreed it was not for everyone. Finally a question had bubbled to the surface.

“What made you decide to forge Jidai Maras?” He realized he did not know. When he had forged it, it was during a time from before he became a Sith back when he was Kell. He wondered to himself if his own reasons for doing this were the same as his Master’s or if the idea popped into the War-Bringer’s mind out of vanity, but in the end Warvanus was not a person of vanity.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

Why indeed.

Regardless of the span of time he could still feel the heat of the sparks as his hammer fell upon the Sword of Damnation. Each blow illiciting screams of the Dark Side that he knew now was woes that foretold of what the sword would one day do and even become.

His mind traveled back to the jungles of Yavin IV and to the greatest of the Massassi Temples where he had ventures and mentally sparred with the spirit of Exar Kun for the right to use the forge within. It had been a close run thing back then - but as he looked at Darth Warvanus he did not fear for Warvanus would be more powerful at this stage in his learning than Tormentous had been at that time - or so. Perhaps in the future Tormentous would make another foray back to the temples where he would commune with Kun once more - as knowledgeable as he was currently he knew that the souls of the past always had something new to show.

If anything it would be a trip in which he could collect more of the Massassi remains in which he could once more create the dominant species of Massassi he’d used in his first term as Dark Lord. The berserkers of Yavin IV were superior shock troops and it had been such a shame to lose them all over time.

With his reflections complete he returned to the moment and his eye traveled up and down the length of his sword. For a time he sat and admired it - it wasn’t often he had the time to just sit and stare. The craftsmanship that had gone into the sword had been in the time when the hammer weight in his hand was firm. Each blow was measured and it had taken many days to smelt the glassed sand into folded steel. Every inch of that sword held a part of him - literally in fact. Be it his sweat or his blood the blade was as much part of him as he was part of it.

It was said: so long as one survived, the other would ever endure.

The Sword.

The Hydra.

The Man.

But the question remained, why?

“A lightsaber,” He had used one before, a saber staff to be exact and his use had been expert in its trade, “is simply a weapon. A tool in which to carve a path through the enemy.” His hand traveled up and his finger tips caressed the mirror sheen of the blade, wherever he touched left an afterimage of hoarfrost in his wake. “It could even be a badge of office within the Sith Order. Well enough it is powerful and it is sufficient for the purpose of a Sith Lord.”

“But in the time of my ascension from the mundane - from the typical Sith unto a level beyond my so-called peers. I was in need of a symbol.” He was satisfied with this description and so he offered further his explanation. “A symbol of who I am and what I was capable of. Where a saber can only do so much,” his hand expressed this notion with passion, “a sword like this had potential to be endless.”

“I needed something that men would fear as much as they would fear me. I needed a conduit to magnify my power so that mine enemies would wail as tragedy befell them. I needed something more than a badge of office. I needed a weapon that was capable of matching my fury and a lightsaber only paled in comparison to the majesty of what a Sith Warblade could be. This weapon IS me.”

[Kell Sangros]

He understood the reason in regards to the lightsaber, some of his own reasons were similar. He wanted his blade to be a symbol of who he is, plus he had felt he had ascended beyond the need of a lightsaber, he would still carry it but it would no longer be his primary weapon. He nodded in understanding as his Master explained his reasons.

They had continued their discussion for awhile longer, Warvanus was grateful for the lore and information that Tormentous had shared. This was not common knowledge and he had pledged to keep it closely guarded as he had with the knowledge. The audience had come to an end when Warvanus told him that he would return when he had forged the blade and present it to him for his opinion. When he was given his leave, he took it, he had work to do…

=Three Weeks Later=

Warvanus had returned to Moraband, he had arrived at the fortress the citadel of Tormentous, He was granted admitance and once more he entered the throne room where the throne of skulls sat. He would notice that Warvanus was slightly changed. His lightsaber still hung at his side but sheathed to his back was a sword. Not an ordinary blade, but a blade forged and imbued with the Dark Side. His body language would say that the ritual had changed him in some manner. His boots echoed as he approached the throne. When he approached the throne. He took the knee as he always did when bade to rise he did so.

“Master I have done it” he began and with that he drew the Sword in appearance and size it looked like a broadsword. The Blade sang when it was drawn, the Jewel on the hilt, the blade silver in color, seemed to pulse as if it had a life of its own. He held it in his hands and offered it to him for his inspection. He held it reverently.

“I named it Akaan Burkida” Which he would know it translated to “War Incarnate” He continued “I Hope you find it a worthy blade to serve you” He now awaited Tormentous’ judgment.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

The Dark Lord looked upon his Apprentice and his eye traveled up and down the length of the blade, runes glistened in the steel and the finery of the blade’s length was perfect. Without a word Tormentous stepped down from the throne and accepted the sword, instantly he noticed its incredible weight. It was many times that of a heavy hammer - this was very typical of Sith Warblades but apparently Akaan Burkida ever moreso reflected this characteristic than others, though by the way Warvanus had carried it and offered it up - it was his touch that this blade desired. In this alone he would have approved - yet there was so much more to this sword than what the eye could see.

Raising up the blade to look down its keen edge it was laser point straight, even when he touched it to the whetstone for the first time he had executed to perfection the edge. Even as he held the sword he could hear whispers from the spirit realm where this blade’s soul dwelt and while he couldn’t make them out he felt they were familiar.

Rolling it around now that he was satisfied with the tone of the blade. His eye came to the guard and it was finely done. Not a single hammer mark, perfectly smooth and the proportions were sound. He gripped the hilt and where Jidai Maras was hand and a half, this sword was of familiar hilt length though the blade was several inches shorter and had a heavier depth to it - a broad or longsword design. It was just as well - very fitting for Darth Warvanus. The leather was of the finest quality and the guard would shield the hand well. At this point he tested balance and was proud to discover its perfect twang, the blade even seemed to hum in its own pride that it was of perfect balance. Tormentous supposed that if weighed on either end it would reflect his suspicion within the ounce.

Moving down once more he viewed the pommel and the gemstone within the setting was gorgeous, it caught the eye and he could even sense the potential in the stone itself. This stone and Warvanus were linked. All in all this was impressive work by any swordsmith’s standards. Warvanus’ work was exquisite and he considered killing the man responsible that another sword of this fine craftsmanship could never be made again - hence making this sword a relic in its own instant of birth. Obviously slaying Warvanus would be a waste and the thought was only that of a material view. The War-Bringer was far to valuable to be wasted on such materialistic desires.

Taking up the blade - Tormentous made one swipe diagonally and rolled it into a flourish back to present position. It felt good even despite its massive weight. He handed the blade back but did not dismissed his Apprentice.

It was time to prove both Akaan Burkida and Darth Warvanus. Tormentous knew the latter was worthy already but now - without one - there was no other.

Slowly Jidai Maras was removed from the clasp on his back and his gauntlet brought it about, he gripped the mighty sword of damnation in two hands. He held it before him and looked to Warvanus. From his position on the stairs he would be able to bring down a blow even stronger than normal. What better test to christen this blade.

“Let us see, Darth Warvanus, if your blade of war is ready.” He didn’t need to instruct Warvanus where to hold the blade for he would hold it above his head with the shining steel set on his forearm and his right handed grip on the hilt. It was to block a massive incoming blow. But Tormentous knew that Warvanus was also eager to see his creation in action. If done correctly, the blade would have more effect than a lightsaber and while the kinetic blow would be severe, the blade itself would not shatter and Warvanus would not be clove in twain.

“This is where the truth behind the Warblade is to be revealed. It is not simply a length of honed steel. If it is but a sword then its metal will shatter or it would never turn away a blaster. Through the Dark Side of the Force you must focus you will and melt your own power into the sword. It must be your anchor to the Dark Side. A conduit. Draw the Dark Side to go from the aether and into the sword to channel finally into you - you shall feel your own power surge with this and a new world shall even be opened to you.”

“It is essential for you to understand that where we draw from the Force to empower us, the sword must amplify this and in turn it will take a piece of you into it. You will become less - though with it in your hand you will become ever more than you could have possibly ever imagined.”

He granted Warvanus a moment to collect these thoughts. “Go unto the blade and focus yourself. Energize the sword and fuel its essence with the Dark Side of the Force. You will feel its very molecular structure alter, the mirror surface may even change to reflect your being. At your command it will turn away anything that may come for you.”

Just as Tormentous spoke those words he too channeled his mind into his own sword and its mirror surface became charged with the Dark Side of the Force, it went away from the beautiful physical sword and began to glow deep red all while changing the temperature around it as cold started clouding away from it and even another element as Tormentous summoned the Dark Side and commanded Force Lightning itself.

While some would see lightning spout from the hand and attack, in this method the lightning began to play across his sword and Warvanus would know that his liege lord would hold nothing back. Tormentous did not desire to kill Warvanus, but he had never pulled himself during training before. Either Warvanus would prove himself worthy - or he was weak and deserving of death.

Once he sensed Warvanus was prepared, he moved with swiftness and came up and around with a massive overhand swing. Jidai Maras came screaming down to Warvanus’ head, defended by Akaan Burkida. Now it was all up to Warvanus’ will - he would thrive in this instant, or meet oblivion at last.