The Brood

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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Silas Karn
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The Brood

Post by Silas Karn » Wed May 19, 2021 7:00 pm

Seemingly ever-present dark clouds lit with savage lightning storms crested the peak of the immense tower belonging to the Lord Sovereign. Vast fields of briars had grown at such immense pace as to choke out any other life in the valleys below the tower. The tendrils of these plants had begun to encase the entirety of the base of the citadel. Resounding throughout both the valley in front and behind the gated keep was a booming foul voice that carried with it the ancient tongue of the Sith.

Adorned in all the fineries and majestic attire befitting his title and duties within the Sith while holding a silver staff of pure cortosis standing upon the pinnacle of the tower was the High Priest. The constant manipulation of the weather during his long stays on Moraband had begun to permanently alter the climate. During these long hours of channeling the Force the Sovereign took counsel from the spirit of his mentor. This day the High Priest was testing the capacity of the influencing of his domain at a fundamental level beyond mere climate manipulation. Long hours had been poured into the study of such an art. Only for these meditations to be interrupted.

“My Lord Sovereign, the Hunter has arrived seeking an audience.” Listening to his com-link sounding off from his left gauntlet Silas looked out across the horizon. ‘For what purpose would Slade return to me? I was certain that after reconnecting he would avoid me at all costs.’ The serpent went to rest his staff against the massive spherical gemstone set upon the ritual crest that had been inscribed upon the tower’s peak. ‘No, I’ll not depart simply to meet with another,’ Silas mused before accessing his com-link.

“I’ll release the locks on the turbolift. Have our guest meet me on the pinnacle.” A vile grin coursed the lips of the priest. Turning back away from the steps that led out from the interior Silas walked out to the very edge of his keep. For Slade to willingly seek the Sovereign his purpose must have been quite dire. To have need of the priest was to need the knowledge that had been lost. Silas began to reach out through the Living Force, seeking the mind of the Hunter. The peerless senses of the Sovereign could not be assuaged. The temptation to dominate the will of those around him had left the priest even more distant as none save for Tormentous held the capacity to resist such efforts and as an Echani that road held…dire implications.

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Slade Xandir
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Re: The Brood

Post by Slade Xandir » Fri May 21, 2021 4:11 pm

The former Dragon King was promptly informed of his approved request, yet he was not informed to remain where he stood. No, instead, the furthest door of the docking port allowed itself to open for him, and he was instructed to continue through it. Seemed he was needing to travel. The Xandir exhaled, and marched forward the several yards to pass through the doors finally, and stood on the civilian ramp of the facility. Immediately, sick damp sweat stuck to him with immediacy. Buzzards scattered about, seeking purchase on his skin with more than enough thirst to be sanguine-related. It was hot, muggy, and way too wet for the Hunter to be fine with considering he hadn't landed on the planet of Moraband. Moraband was dry, dusty, red, but this? He looked forward, watching sandy bonedust dunes blend away into wetlands and bogs among the cursed land. "What the hell are you doing, Priest..." he murmured under his breath. Almost on cue, the spirts writhed within his own being as something touched his essence almost innately. A reminder from the High Priest that he would always be able to reach Slade, no matter how far the Hunter was from him. But regardless of it, Slade had been acknowledged upon stepping out in the wastey wetlands, and that was all it took to confirm to the Xandir that he would have to foot it.

"Lazy bastard," he cursed aloud as he released his own influence in a single calling across the skies above. It was a tether he had pulled upon, a familiar one to Wrath, whom had made his way to the waiting Sire. He didn't allow the lava-blooded war dragon to land in the ground, as he didn't trust a bit of it not to sink or suck the massive beast under unstable grounds. How the landing pad even stood baffled Slade. Yet a Force Jump landed the Sithian on the side of the spiked mount, and after just barely avoiding skewering himself on one of them, clamored up and notched himself just atop hot shoulderblades. He dug booted feet over the red and orange mosaic of pronged scales, and made sure he was locked in before commanding the mount towards the spiraling helix of all this madness several miles forward. Compared to how much space was between his landing point and where the tower peak was, he was glad the many miles could be eaten by the broad wingspan strokes of his personal mount. It still took quite a few minutes, and Slade had to rely on every other flap to pick up his head and catch sight of the tower and it's influence in the far lands to make sure he was heading in the correct direction. Eventually, the lands looked less like land, and much more like something vomited repeatedly over the grounds. As he looked briefly behind him as they flew, it almost seemed as though something massived wormed under the grime, triggered by just them flying overhead. Slade hoped there were no wyrms being kept captive by Silas' influence. Those things freaked Slade out.
Burrowing things were just ergh.

Eventually, he made it to the obelisk-like tower, a chasm of build that spanned a lot farther than one would initially imagine would be expected. It was a fooling into modesty, a cathedral that would swallow you whole if you didn't pay enough attention. Angling higher, Slade felt the turbulence of the wet winds pick up, sizzling against the hot flesh of the Wrath. Only once he got close enough to the tower's peak landing, did he jump, and absorb as much of gravity as he could before outwardly pushing his influence below him in resonation with gravity's expectant crash, and null the fall enough to land safely. A soft plap announced his arrival once booted feet hit the stone of the tower's flooring, and he silently shooed Wrath from this decrepit place. Honestly, he didn't trust Silas near Wrath, or anything else living. Hence why he needed him for today's lesson.

The Xandir stood there, silently waiting for the Priest to regard him with more than just Force connections. He wouldn't interrupt the man as he worked.
"𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒, 𝐼 𝒶𝓂."

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Silas Karn
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Re: The Brood

Post by Silas Karn » Mon Jun 07, 2021 6:48 pm

In a call back to their first meeting Silas turned toward Slade and extended his right hand. A bolt of lightning lit the skies, yet not from emanating from the hand of the Sovereign but the clouds themselves, cascading down upon the claw like fingers of the tower’s peak just behind Xandir. “A…enhancement granted to me by my latest sojourn beyond our borders.” Targeted weather manipulation, it was a spectacle to behold but certainly not the subject for the Hunter’s arrival. Accessing his com-link Silas was forced to recant his earlier instructions as the youth had taken extraordinary means to reach him. Placing his staff down in front of him the cortosis stave held firm as if by an unseen hand.

“Of course seeing the advancements of my studies is not why you have troubled yourself to reach me. Why then does the Hunter seek my counsel?” It was of course the most obvious question but it carried with it a great weight. “None of your generation have sought me out. Why then do I once more find you amidst my company? You already were restored and all but vanquished entirely that which plagued you. What is there left for you to seek that the Dark Lord could not illuminate for you.” Eclipsing the remaining distance between them the High Priest looked upon the youth with great intrigue. For a Sith to be given knowledge, to be granted what another possessed, always came with a price. Silas was quite curious as to what the Hunter could offer and even moreso for what would spur the youth to walk so willingly into his domain in order to make such an exchange.

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Slade Xandir
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Re: The Brood

Post by Slade Xandir » Tue Jun 08, 2021 7:55 pm

Slade stood as firm as he had the day the platinum wraith scalded that blink of lightning beside him upon the Malevolent seemingly eons ago. The only thing different was the slight bulk of weight sleepless nights of trainings and attempted assassinations had left muscles upon him, and his blinded pearlescent that almost seemed more heartless than the man who bore it. It held even less amusement for Silas' memory of frightening flatteries than Slade, watching the Priest with missionless remote longing in clouded depths. Slade wasn't afraid to die, anymore. Silas had nigh killed him atleast over one hundred, but did not release his soul. Instead the snakish Sovereign flooded his barely able body with souls, random thralls and slaves, academics, warriors who were merely passing by, even other ensnared Lords writhed in the catalyst of this body of Slade, and the Hunter endured the voices as they all cried for release. New sights, sounds, smells, sensations that did not belong to their own bodies plagued them as much as it had Slade to harbor his organic form with them all. But he had no choice in the matter.
Silas ensured it.
It had gotten so miserable that Slade had wanted almost nothing more than to step back into that crackle of lightning, to sear himself into dust - But he was almost positive the Priest would find a way to construct him even out of the ash he had became, and make him loathe his existence that much more.

"I-" He held the rest of the sentence in a throat that had no function. As though swallowing mere spit was too much to be capable of. Whispers of laughs made fun of his inability. The Dragon King inhaled, and made another attempt. "I wish to learn your method of Sorcery, specifically resurrection of creatures past due. To bring life into the-" someone in his head began to cry, mourning his decision to follow this heartless echani into an afterlife of dark science and spirit commune. It was almost as blatant as asking the Priest 'I need to know the step before the step of you resuscitating me so many times.' It was shameful. But knowledge was knowledge, and Slade wanted to know it. How else would you beat the bully, unless you knew how they bullied? "-dead.[/d]" his baritones finished out the request almost as hollow as the husk he was becoming.

It was pathetic how telling his heart beat. He was almost furious the Priest had this illegal knowledge. It was also vexing for him to be stuck so far in this Sithian's debt. To be chained to this man who had so quickly tried to kill his Sire so soon after he had been defeated, who had taken it upon himself to attempt ridding Blo-..Slade of the throne so soon after he had secured it. To claim Slade's own life, and prevent him from being free to no longer be stuck in this timeline they remained in, serving the Cauldron even as his purpose, he believed, was up. Tormentous held the throne now- what need was there for him? What use was there for a Lord of Perseverance in a time of moving forward? What was there to persevere against when it was they who aggressed and provoked? No idea could soothe the Dragon King, but his left knee planted before the Left Hand's standing staff, other leg supporting the weight as his right leg bore the rest of the weight's heft. His kneel was unplanned, something commanded of him by something he didn't necessarily have full control of. He wanted to throw up. "I have a reel for you to teach me your ways of Sithspawn upon, and you may keep it. Yet I need to learn sorcery for my fallen coven of dragons." He wanted to keep the Reel, having raised it personally, but after the snake had begun to turn on him, he was not willing to risk being swallowed by the reptilian. He and Silas would be besties, surely.

As he desired to stand, his knee remained concreted to the tower's stone beneath them, his body almost feeling as stiff as the building, itself. He could not rise, as gravity held him there, and he swallowed finally. Why was he unable to stand? What made him kneel in the first place? For frakks sake-

"I have no generation with me. I am the only one. Krox is dead. Warvanus is dead. That miraluka is dead. Rahab is dead. My spawn are dead. Sojourn is dead. Only I have remained." he spat the names with ... irritation? What was he upset about? That he was the only child now? Or that he had been betrayed by them all? Or what? That he had to face everything he had gone through, alone? That they should have all risen together, and defended the Cauldron as a leading organization? What was it?! "Tormentous does not have...the knowledge I seek, right now. Only you do." As though the admittance released his body from a casting of stone, his muscles relaxed and his free will was restored. All of the echani's questions had been answered, and Slade was allowed to stand as whatever unknown puppet master released the taunt strings that held him in place. Standing, blood returned to flow in places it had been absent momentarily, and he almost felt lightheaded.
"𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒, 𝐼 𝒶𝓂."

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Silas Karn
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Re: The Brood

Post by Silas Karn » Tue Jun 15, 2021 9:14 pm

Vile laughter met Slade’s ears after the Hunter reminded Sovereign of the divide separating his self from the newest blood. “Well perhaps the cycles are slipping away from me or my bloodline betrays my sense of their passage. It’s true in a more limiting manner that you are not of the same flock.” A moment’s pause was given before the priest continued, “You would do well to not parse injustices or loss with Tormentous or I. Sojourn was but one world and you have been fully restored to a state prior to its loss.”

The Sovereign’s words carried a distant air. The truth of his and the Dark Lord’s origin ever lingered within the consciousness of the High Priest. What would be required to restore them was almost an unthinkable series of events likely to never pass. “As to the purpose of your arrival. I will begin by dispelling your misconceptions.” The Sovereign stopped and made sure to meet Slade’s eyes before he continued. “No power of sorcery or the dark side can resurrect nor create life. Indeed such a gift is relegated to those who would likely see its use as perverse.” Silas all but spat in disgust to even think about the order of fools to whom he spoke.

“However, in what sorcery lacks to create it far exceeds in its capacity to corrupt, influence, and alter. So that which you seek might still be achieved.” A smug, exceedingly arrogant grin coursed over the countenance of the Sovereign. “Yet, in order to succeed you will need to procure the necessary foundation for that which you desire to build as it were. You see there is no creature suitable to the task which inhabits Moraband. You must track down a beast that bears as much a resemblance to what you seek to create as possible or procure such a multitude of sacrifices to bridge the gap that you would surely draw the eye of the Dark Lord. So in other words it is time to leave this place. I’d recommend a cheery locale like Dxun, Kashyyyk, or perhaps even Tatooine!”

It was obvious that the Sovereign expected the youth to give up at this point. Though the High Priest was fully aware of the Hunter’s capabilities and his request was not beyond Slade. Notably the Sovereign was not guarded in the teaching of sorcery, a boon to be certain should Slade come to master it.

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