The Old Sith Trials

IC: Trinaya
Location- Academy Outskirts, Korriban

Surprised at the incredible success of her attack on the second beast Trin felt her achievement soured by the sight of her knife being carried away by a stupid kriffing cowardly not-dog. Indulging her heightened emotions in the aftermath of the battle Trin shouted after it “FINE YOU STUPID BEAST, TAKE THE KNIFE AND KNOW I’LL COME BACK FOR IT!” Realizing how ridiculous she probably looked Trin turned back to Volacius with a blush. It was just a knife, she shouldn’t be that upset about it. It had been a very nice knife, though.
Letting out a breath and controlling her anger instead of letting it control her, Trin responded to her compatriot.
“Yes. We have a job to do, you’re correct.” That would be as close to admitting that she had temporarily lost sight of their objective in the face of having an animal steal from her that Trin would go.
Surveying the various… pieces of their younger fellow acolytes Trin frowned. “Maybe we should have brought something to carry them all on.”

darthkain7 , volacius

Tagset: Sinister Sith

The inky blackness was swirling with crimson and green smoke.
The Voices were a whisper.
Constant.
Compelling.
Promising answers.
This place...a space between living and death, was more familiar than the waking world.

Without light.
Without form.
He drifted.

The Dark Side spoke with the Voices of the Seven Witches. Their swirling robes dissipating into the smoke. The song they sang was a fel tune filled with promises and foreboding. Always leading him towards an ancient secret...

New Voices intrude on this dark sanctuary. One mechanical, the other...low and raspy, edged with exasperation and anger.
Now the voices had a different candor and cadence and seemed to come as if from no great distance.

...78% regeneration of tis...

The sounds of water rushed through his ears...

...neural pathways nor...

... recomend two days more...

"Wake him."

The darkness retreated a little. The colors seemed to flow together, sluggishly at first, contracting and expanding in fits and bursts. The song was replaced by the deep hum of sublight engines.
A hot flash of pain as needles penetrated his flesh.
The swirling smoke and robes finally coalescing into a pin point of light.
A sudden rush forward and the light expanded to fill his vision.

Xxys could feel the stim shot course through his veins like lava. Suddenly the world snapped into focus and light again assaulted his eyes, though his vision was blurred by the fluid he was floating in. Short sharp pains assailed his body as the needles were retracted from his flesh and gravity reasserted its grip as the fluid was quickly drained from the healing tank. Xxys reached up and gagged as he pulled the nearly two feet of intubation hose from his lungs.
The first breath after being in a Bacta tank was the worst. Cold and harsh air, like icy needles, filled his lungs. His knees buckled under the sudden return of gravity and his cybernetic right arm hung limp at his side. He reached out and gripped the side of the standing tank to prevent himself from falling on his face.
The second breath is almost as bad and he coughs out the remaining bacta fluid lingering in his throat.
The medical droid punched a few buttons on the console and another round of stim flows through the remaining I.V. in his right arm.
"Were am I?" he croaked "How did I get here?"
The stim works fast and the cloudy haze engulfing his mind is swept away like fog in the wind. He was aboard a medical shuttle. The droid again manipulates the console and the final I.V. retracted from his arm with just a slight pinch.
The medical droid points to indicate a set of lockers and in mechanical tones says,
"Your clothes are in locker #6."
Xxys grabbed a towel from the rack and stepped from the tank. The wound (the most recent) is only noticable amid the scars crisscrossing his body by the angry red edges, and a light purple and yellow that denoted deep bruises. The worst was just where the cybernetic arm was fused to his upper torso. It's metal subframe had dispersed the laser blaster bolt energy sparing his life, but the bordering flesh was still damaged and appeared angry. He could feel he was not completely healed. Quickly drying he steps over to the locker and dressed. All his weapons and equipment were still with his garb however his Lightsaber was not among his possessions. He could sense it was near. All the time he was reaching out with the Force to try and get a sense of his new found benefactor and the person who in all likelyhood... had saved his life.

There was a sense of urgency in the Force and Xxys could feel that events were already in motion that he would soon be a part of.
He turned to the medical droid
"Take me to your Master "



@kai Erlae
darthkain7
dragonsith13

Ic: Kint Dranlor
location: Ninushodojinyaut prison cell

Kint watched persevus’s face, waiting and hoping for a response, tempted to try to slap him awake. The fool, allowing himself to be caught once by kint, then again by the Starweird. He was making this far more difficult than it should have been. But, then, with a reward like the mirror and holocron hanging in the balance, it couldn’t be easy, could it? He sighed, staring intently at the sith lord’s face, looking for motion and signs of life.

Then, he heard the rakataan speak. Of course, he had no way of knowing what was being said, but the tone and cadence.... a warning perhaps?

Then persevus’s eyes snapped open, and kint reeled back as he stood, seeing the eyes, blacker than night, staring back at him like pools of oil, waiting to drown those who gazed for too long, or got too close. “It’s a trap! It’s a...-“ his words were cut off as the thing that was once a man raised his hand, and a wave of kinetic force rolled across the room, stronger than any kint had ever seen or felt before... the blackness was clearly sentient, and in this new body it could communicate clearly. Perhaps it depended on the state of the possessed host, and the level of mental decomposition.... but he had no time to waste with such thoughts, as the wave bore down on him.

He moved, diving to his right, firing his rocket pack, and launching a cable at the far wall. It was too strong to try to fight it, that was certain. But, like any wave, if handled properly, it could be ridden. Using the force of the wave, combined with the perpendicular force of his rocket pack, and the pendulum of his grapnel cable, he shot in a circle, at speeds he was unable to control. But, he had calculated carefully the spot on the ceiling he had fired the grapnel into.

He shot around the room, flipping himself feet first, the combined force of the force push and the rocket pack propelling him straight at the left side of the possessed sith lord’s back, moving so fast that it was hard for him to prepare, virtually going in blind. But, he trusted in the force, and in his own mind. If they could capture persevus alive, and use some form of flames or electrocution to purge his body of external elements... he could possibly still get the information he needed.

Tags:
@darthdreadwar
Darth Catalyst

GM Approved CHARACTER SHEET



Character Summary

Name: Marrok Chadori
Title: Darth Vizuul
Age: Circa 3,000 BBY. Appears in his mid-30s but true name is unknown due to carbonite freezing.
Sex: Male
Species: Human
Homeworld: Alderaan
Occupation: Sorcerer
Height: 1.78 meters
Physical Description: Not entirely an imposing figure standing only 1.78 meters tall, it is his affinity of the Dark Side that creates the sense of intimidation towards others. His broad shoulders are accented with dark brown colored hair that reaches his collar bones. His eyes, one hazel green, are devoid of color having been frozen in carbonite for generations.
Clothing: In his attire, he dons a hooded cloak dark enough to presume it was made from the night sky itself. He wears no mask. He wants his enemies to remember his face as their life parrishes. His boots are of Corellian leather and his armor plating under the cloak is laced with Dyliniom ore with Cortosis-weave fibracations on his forearms, chest, and back.
Weapons: Though he does not use weapons much, he does keep a lightsaber at his belt for just in case purposes. The design of the hilt has no special qualities other than being a darkened shade but it does have a lengthening knob for shorter or longer ranges. The crystal within creates a blood-red blade once ignited. Other than that, it is his intelligence and creativity that he uses to his advantage when it comes to weaponry.
Description of Abilities: Gifted in the art of Sith Sorcery through his apprenticeship (unfinished) he learned how to channel Force Lightening not only through the usual means but also through his eyes and even form it in to a lightening-ball blast shot from his mouth whilst performing the Force Scream. His focus in the art of Corcery drove him to pursue power in the path of the Arcanist. As his apprenticeship was not completed, he still has much more to learn.
Bio: Born Marrok Chadori from the planet Alderaan, it was clear from a young age that he was strong in the force. Hailing from the lineage of Ulic Qel-Droma it made sense for him to be force-sensetive early on. His family wasn't wealthy but they were also not poor. The Qel-Droma had purpose and pull amongst his homeworld, and it was a grand name one had to live up to, as to be expected. The stories of Ulic Qel-Droma being a messiah of sorts to the Sith Empire, this was an inspiration of Marroks to which he aspired to mimic in some way.

In his early teens, there was a time where his true power had shown thanks to a group of younglins around his age who had been bullying him relentlessly. They teased and beat him for pleasure nearly every day until finally he decided he'd had enough and snapped, unleashing a torrent of force energy that exploded from within. As this happened, it had done much more than one would expect. The exalted Force wave pushed the other younglings in the air against walls, pillars, and a number of other structures breaking their bones to pieces. From that very moment on, Marrok knew he was destined for greater needs and he had a crave for learning how to control and sharpen his skills, making them more terrifying, a power that his enemies would come to fear.

Over time he began studying what he could through archived texts he could lay his hands on pertaining to the Force, its histroy, Ashla and Bogan and how to hone his abilities. He then came to realize that it was a Master that he had needed. one to teach him in the ways of the Force, and of the Dark Side itself. He wanted power, craving every ounce of it and he vowed that nothing would stop him from obtaining that which he desired.

His cruelty knew no bounds but as he was cruel, he was also cunning and intelligent using manipulation against others. As time passed, Marrok came across a Sith Sorcerer named Darth Angris who would then take him on as an apprentice, furthering his knowledge and teaching him the ways of Sorcery and eventually, the Arcane Sith Magic. His master, during his apprenticeship, dubbed him Darth Vizuul for his being a cruel visionary but also for his unruly nature against those weaker than he in his quest for higher power. During this time, Vizuul had heard from his Master of an undead spirit of an ancient Sith Lord called Darth Dreadwar, sealed on the forgotten planed of Nilrebmah XII. It was he who had trained Ulic Qel-Droma and it was he that Vizuul wished to learn from. The power he weilded. Since Angris had put Vizuul at an impasse in his training and yet there was still much he had to learn, Vizuul murdered his Master in his sleep. Still craving learn more he sought out for the Undead Spirit of Darth Dreadwar to either be trained by him personally, or at least become part of his growing Sith Army.

Finally finding Nilrebmah XII, unfortunately Vizuul had not been chosen to be trained by the Sith Lord despite his lineage, he was granted permission to serve in the Sith Army which allowed him to continue his personal training in the Arcane arts of Sith Sorcery which taught him how to focus his Force Lightening technique to not only be shor from his fingertips but also from his eyes and in the form of a lightening-ball blast being shot from his mouth powered firstly by a Force Scream. A novice in both techniques, yet barely passed 30 standard years of age by now, without warning or even a hint of a disturbance in the Force, Vizuul and the rest of the Sith Army found themselves captured and frozen in carbonite....only to discovered and awakened many generations later, along with Darth Vizuul and his continuous crave for power.



(Sith characters only)

Rank/Level: Level 1
Class: Sith Sorcery

Skills: Darth Vizuul is nearly a master at cunning manipulation and strategic planning learning such a tool while in the Sith Army. Though still considered an apprentice even without a Master to further his teachings, Vizuul also became a well-abled pilot and skilled fighter in hand-to-hand combat.

Force push/pull – 1
Force Choke -- 1
Force Scream -- 1
Force Lightning – 1
Force Defense – 1
Mind Trick – 1
Form V – 1
Force Drain – 1

Name: Trill
Face Claim: Picture
Species: Unknown humanoid but possibly a precursor relative to Humans, Echani, or Rattataki.
Gender: Female
Age: Born Around the Year 25,816 BBY. Though her body only appears 25 because of cryo stasis, in reality Trill is approximately aged at 25,970 years old.

Physical Attributes: Trill’s body was petite but still muscularly athletic and she held herself upright with good posture and constitution.
Height: 5’11 (In heels) 5’5 (Natural)
Weight: 140lbs

Faction: Infinite Empire
Rank: Level 6 Force User
Class: Force Hound

Skills and Lightsaber Forms:
- Force Push/Pull: 3
- Force Lightning: 2
- Mind Trick: 3
- Force Jump: 2
- Telepathy: 3
- Force Wave/Repulse: 3
- Force Barrier: 3
- Ancient Fencing Techniques: 3
- Ancient Swordswoman Techniques: 3

Primary Weapon: Force Saber with Light Blue ebon crystal meticulously placed into the metal hilt.

Summarized Bio: Born around the year 25,816 BBY, the girl that would eventually would be known as Trill was delivered in a slave camp on Lehon to a mother and father who had been forced to conceive her due to the high chance that she would be born as a force sensitive. Her parents were extremely remorseful after her birth as her midichlorian count was confirmed by her original master which meant she would not be a labor slave like most of her family. The little girl was given the name of Trill and told that she would have the first five years to be with her parents before she would have to be turned over to the Predor that owned the family. Her parents did the best to make those years fun for the girl though they were gone mostly everyday for labor to help improve the capital of the Infinite Empire. When the day of her fifth birthday came and the Predor arrived on the shack porch of the family with his two guards, Trill was tragically ripped from her crying Mother’s arms before watching her father get into a confrontation with the Rakatan guards who would shock the man unconscious. Being led away while looking back at her parents she was able to wave her free hand to wave as even at that young age, the girl would already be aware that she would never see them again. She was being taken to be trained as a force hound and she knew that life only ended in two ways for every person condemned to that path as their slave labor; she would be consumed by her master in a grand feast with her as the main dish or she would be killed during a mission and her name would not be remembered by anyone.

Adjusting to her new life rather quickly as her Master trained the young girl almost endlessly and cruelly in hopes of making a hound that would boost his own status within the Empire, Trill would take quite a similar personality as her Predor often becoming mean and authoritarian when training with other slaves and hounds. It was in the early stages of her training that she would be introduced to the true pantheon of Gods that her Masters acknowledged and worshipped on a daily basis. The Tale of the Old Gods as it was known as was always a interesting story to hear and the girl would quickly take that influence into her personality as well as she developed zealous tendencies as a young child. Among her favorite of the Gods it was the goddess Vahl otherwise known as The Mother. In the tales she heard of the goddess, Vahl was beyond beautiful and the jewel of the galaxy while also being powerful beyond all means. The want in the young girl to be both of these made her worship and praise toward Vahl an integral part of her training. Trill often traveled to one of the many shrines on Lehon to give praise to the goddess and ask for her assistance in her training to be a force hound. Trill was around eight years old when she met the force hound that was known as Xesh and like their masters, Trill and Xesh would develop an complicated but tense love-hate friendship that both declared as a rivalry. The two being similar in power and grasp within the force, Trill and Xesh was often paired together in hopes that the two would make the other stronger. Deciding to keep a record of their one on one matchups, Xesh won more often than not but Trill always managed to keep her numbers close enough not to draw unneeded attention from their Predors. However, that managed to be a useless factor since Xesh was often a troublemaker who was sent by his master to antagonize other force hounds in attempt to see who among them was worthy to carry out deeds in the name of the Empire and those who should be eaten already. Unknowingly doing this to Trill once, he proved the girl unworthy of being a force hound and it was originally decided that she would eaten by her Master. Realizing that he condemned someone he knew so strongly to death, Xesh made the suggestion that she be given to Predor Skal’nas as a gift and insult to the somewhat disgraced and cruel Rakata Master. When this happened and the transfer of ownership occurred, Trill and Xesh wouldn’t see anymore of each other due to the tense relations between their owners. Trill would learn over time though that Xesh was a devoted follower of Typhojem and that everything he did he thought would bring him closer to ascending past their Master’s and into godhood himself.

As the girl reached 20 years old and was now in the adulthood of her life as a force hound, Trill used her Predor’s resources to figure out how to help govern the slave planets better and keep them from stepping out of line. As a herald of Vahl, Trill often took some of her time to helping young female force hounds get used to their training as well recruit more followers for her Goddess. Seeing as Vahl was known as the mother, Trill felt all women within the Empire should know of the Goddess greatness. However, the hound knew that even with her worship and religion, her job to her Predor was her main priority if she wanted to keep living. Eventually looking through the somewhat constructed galactic maps of the Empire at the time, she used planetary research alongside common knowledge and was able to prove that there were solar systems in the deep core and even one held a rumored planet strong with the force that could be a huge boon to their Empire. However, unlucky for the girl she couldn’t pinpoint the exact location of this force rich planet even after establishing a strong connection with it. Angering her master with her failure, he was forced to consult Predor Tul’kar and his force hound Xesh which led the human back into her life once more in hopes that the four could do something that Trill couldn’t do alone. When Trill eventually found the planet herself in hopes of restoring any lost faith that she had accrued, she informed the group but still bought the bad news that black holes, twisting lanes, and unknown position of the stars would prevent any possible travel to this force rich planet which they learned was called Tython and was inhabited. When the two Predor’s began to discuss sending a hound through the arduous journey in case it was in fact possible and knowing this could be her way to have a tiny bit of freedom and prove her worth fully, Trill readied herself to volunteer when Xesh boldly exclaimed he could do it easy and that Trill wasn’t possibly capable for a job like that. Angering the girl beyond anything she had felt before, she attacked Xesh in front of both of their Masters and was nearly killed before Predor Skal’nas showed his one act of kindness in stepping in and having her life spared while Xesh was given the mission of infiltrating Tython. Exchanging harsh words with each other, Trill would see her rival leave before her very eyes and vowed the next time she saw him, she was going to kill him.

Soon after these events, Skal'nas lost communication with Xesh and the ship he took and began to grow more and more angered as he felt the boy had betrayed the Empire and gone rogue. When Trill came to make her report of a local matter she found her Master in what seemed like a drunken and extremely explosive rage and when his eyes locked it wasn’t hard to tell who the target was now. Skal’nas brutally threw Trill around the chambers as he vented his anger for an opponent wishing to supersede him or simply making him look bad in general. Feeling ribs being broken and her body bruised all over, the young woman knew if he kept this up she would be getting gutted and roasted by dinnertime if her body was beaten past the point of meaningful repair. Getting up from the last throw, Trill claimed that she would track Xesh to his destination and either eliminate him or make sure he finishes the mission. Skal'nas was assured that she could track her broodmate and sent her off with a ship and his warning that if she failed it would be better if she didn’t come back. Praying to Vahl for safe travels and the power to accomplish all her goals, the herald would take off from Lehon and head into the known galaxy where she would do her best to travel to different planets while on the way to Tython and hoped that she received clues that would point her in the positive direction definitely. Landing on the planet of Krev Coeur, Trill could feel the force presence of Xesh coming closer and closer; she knew they were on the same planet. Catching the tail end of a fight between Xesh and Daegon Lok versus the Je’daii Journeyer Sek’nos Rath, Trill would appear before the Je’daii and help him back to his bearings before he noticed her force sensitivity and inquired on who she was and what she was doing there. Using a mind trick and concealing her identity she was able to convince the Je’daii Journeyer to bring her with him back to Tython while relaying any information she had back to her Master.

After making it to Tython and blending herself in with the Je’daii order she often came across Xesh and though they dueled with the intentions of killing each other, most times it was stopped by others around them who figured the two was just really into sparring with each other. Two years would go by and her routine would be similar in the case that she would train, eat, explore, and report all findings back to the Infinite Empire. Being among the only person on the planet to know that the Rakata planned on invading besides Xesh and neither moved forward to tell the Je’daii Council because though they had reservations about being with the Rakata anymore now that they knew what freedom was like, both of them honestly didn’t think the Je’daii would survive the invasion and the might of the species who conquered most of the known galaxy with divine intervention. When the invasion finally did happen and her Predor was in the middle of the fighting, Trill would go into battle alongside the Je’daii with her force saber in hand and a wicked smile on her face. It wasn’t until halfway through the battle that she saw the Je’daii starting to advance on the forward base her Master was currently holed up in and at that moment her conditioning as a loyal slave kicked in fully for her Predor. Turning on the Je’daii she would slaughter most of the unit she was assigned to before making the trip to her Master and receiving his praise for a job well done. Informing her that during her time gone however, he took a new hound with a lot of potential and that it was Trill’s time to be consumed since her services were no longer needed. Being shook to her core when learning that after the invasion, she would be the main dish during a grand banquet that would take place here after the invasion was officially over, Trill was stunned into a silence that she didn’t even know how to break herself out of. Her good mood being ruined by that statement caused her to see the mistake she made in betraying the Je’daii and she knew that she didn’t want to be eaten. Realizing she could survive if she was assigned to a new Predor, Trill had Skal’nas walk into a trap and he was killed by Xesh and his master. Praying to Vahl for forgiveness as she knew murdering her Master was extremely wrong, the girl would begin to take the steps to fully ensure her survival as the invasion force started splintering and turning on each other. Trill was able to find sympathy in another Predor and she returned to Rakata space with him as they reached the stronghold planet of Byss during a shattered retreat from the planet.

She reluctantly grew used to life as a slave again as the Empire was starting to feel the effects of the plague going through the Empire. Wondering if this was a sign from the Gods for their failure on Tython, Trill visited the shrine to the Mother on Byss and remain there for a few days as she was considering herself on a spiritual retreat. After returning with a clear head and mind, she would notice many of the Rakata losing the grip on the force and it began to give her a false sense of power since she was seeing her former Master’s lose their power right before her eyes and she could now overpower most of them. Her Predor noticing this decided to give her a suicide mission that would hopefully either kill the girl off or find the miracle cure to the force plague. Having Trill placed in cryo; a very early version of carbon freezing, she was placed on a ship that was bound for Korriban and told that she would need to get the purebloods to agree to help the Rakata and that they were the key to learning how to control the dark side and prevent the plague from fully cut them off from the force. It was said that through Daritha Venomis, the Rakata would be able to survive and maintain the Infinite Empire for millennium to come and that Trill could find him and seek him out on Korriban without raising too much alarm to the purebloods. Her ship would eventually make it to Korriban but not after being shot down by early air missile defense made by the purebloods which caused the vessel to crash in the mountains but the part holding her stasis pod was fully stable, functional, and had a self sustaining solar powered battery. Due to the somewhat inaccessible and unimportant territory, the pod was never touched but now after such a long time with erosion and the failure of the self sustaining battery due to the immense time that passed, the egg was finally ready to hatch.

Sept of Ramage, Korriban, nighttime

Ermir straightened, straining, hefting Arcane towards the shaft. Who knew Cathar were so heavy? It made sense, the shaking Sith Master supposed; feline predators were gracile yet massive. Ermir, on the other hand, was rather out of shape.

Nothing greeted Arcane's cursory sweep of his paw, except for smooth stone, a fine coating of centuries-old dust, and a few dried, withered leaves. The new chamber was clearly spacious, sufficient for Arcane to stand up in without stooping, and as Ermir joined Arcane in climbing into the room, the Sith instructor's lightsaber flooded the chamber with sanguine illumination, revealing a rectangular stone chamber some sixty feet long and thirty feet wide. Marcus could faintly see an exit - nothing so decorative as an archway, more just a cobweb-laced hole crudely carved into the drab brown rock - on the far side of the chamber, but that was not what immediately claimed his attention.

There were people in the way.

Standing between them and the exit were six people. Or rather... Standing wasn't quite accurate. They were walking - or had been. But it was as if they had been frozen midstep, utterly still, utterly unmoving, some with hands extended in various positions. The two humans wore cowled robes of midnight black, with red lightsabers held in their hands, ignited - yet the blades did not flicker or thrum. The way the fabric hung off their arms was unnatural, as if their voluminous sleeves had been in motion, but no longer.

The others were an assortment of aliens in spacers' garb, suggesting smugglers, pirates or treasure-seekers; they were closer than the two humans to the exit, and three of them were looking over their shoulders behind them, expressions of fear and bafflement on their faces. A Falleen was pointing to a Nikto six paces behind him. A Zabrak was reaching for the blaster on his belt.

Around their feet was a strange brown haze that Ermir realised was dust kicked up by their steps - yet suspended, stationary, an inch or two above the ground.

On the far wall, above the exit, Ermir saw an inscription: "Châts nuyak jen midwan, won Jen'ari Darth Ramage, chwituskak dzukut." Again, the ancient Sith language, he perceived, albeit in the High Galactic alphabet of Basic rather than the indecipherable runes of Kittât.

"What the kark is this?" Ermir said.

IC: Trinaya and Volacius
Location- Academy Outskirts, Korriban

Still keyed up from the skirmish with the Tuk’ata and it’s outcome, Trin spun abruptly towards the voice of Darth Malos. Peeved to have shown both the anger at a beast for stealing from her and her surprise at the presence of the malevolent and creepy Sith in charge of both herself and her fellow acolyte, Trin felt her blush returning. Perhaps her years of controlling her emotions in a court setting hadn’t truly prepared her for controlling them in more action packed settings. Giving Darth Malos a brief bow out of both respect as well as to hide her the pink tinge in her pale face, Trin spoke to both of her companions. “It would feel like a waste to chase the dogs away just to have them return later for a meal. I would vote for burning the bodies and being done with any pests coming to scavenge them if we had a way of actually lighting the fire. If not then it would seem most time efficient to press on after those who would attack even an acolyte of the temple.” Deep inside she repressed the thought of her older sister, brutally murdered in the same ways that these children had been. Her father had never allowed her to see the bodies of either her mother or sister, but servants had whispered within Trin’s hearing about how badly they had been tortured and how awfully they had died.
Being stuck in the past wasn’t getting her any closer to her goal, however. Trin turned towards her stoic seeming partner and waited to see if he had thoughts or feelings on the matter.

Though not entirely startled by Malos’ appearance, he found himself irritated that he had been unable to sense the Sith Lord’s presence. Even during the heat of combat, he should have been able to detect someone as powerful as Malos. Unless of course, Malos had deliberately made himself undetectable. He gave his superior a short bow as Trin voiced her opinion. Frankly, Volacius cared little about the bodies and what would we done with them. After all, dead was dead. Even so, now that he had a chance to examine the bodies more closely, he couldn’t help thinking back to the carnage he had witnessed many years ago on Ossus. He pushed the thought out of his mind just as quickly as it had entered. This was no place or time to think of such things.
“If that is how you wish to proceed,” he stated flatly. “I have nothing with which to generate said fire, however.”

“I guess we follow these footprints then.” Heading towards the tracks Trin scooped up her glaive and checked it for any damage before returning it to her back. She waited at the trailhead for Darth Malos and Volacius

darthkain7 , volacius

Tagset: Sinister Sith

IC Brooke
Mines of Corbos 

Brooke lowered her head as the rest of the group talked around her. They seemed to be in agreement that the left path was destined to be more beneficial. An unsteady hand reached out to Corvar, grasping for his arm. “I don’t want to go back to the darkness,” Brooke began sobbing. “The black and cold reaching out and grabbing, holding me down and digging into my head. Slimy tentacles twisting and squelching.” All three of the darksiders would be able to feel a bubble of fear and anger welling up within the girl, ready to burst and potentially bring the caves down around them.



And then it was gone.



Like the flip of a switch, all of Brooke’s fear and anger was replaced with an impossible serenity. The power that was threatening to overwhelm the disturbed teen suddenly transformed from a raging vortex to a tranquil breeze. She stepped slowly down the left path, each footfall sending up a small cloud of dust. The echo of her steps reverberated unnaturally in the stale air. The pale light of the glow rod sent long shadows further into the depths of the cavern. The deathly silence that yawned in front of the quartet seemed to grow more oppressive.



Brooke kept walking past the discarded glow rod, the lack of light not hindering her native force sight. It lay on the ground for anyone who decided to follow her to pick up. Deeper into the mineshaft she strode, the path never veering from its straight course. Fifty meters deeper into the cave, she came to a sudden stop. In front of where she stood, a cave in blocked the way. Gigantic boulders that were easily resting there for thousands of years had settled from an ancient collapse. Any evidence of what had caused their structure to weaken was long since lost to time. Brooke stood still in front of the pile up, waiting. The tranquility that she emanated was now directly contradicting the look of determination that she wore on her face. This was the way.

TAG: trentongordon, darthferos , darthkain7

Virulent Valley, Korriban

“Leaving them to rot?” Malos inquired upon finishing his work on the dead Tuk'ata. He had drawn the blade across the bellies of the dead beasts, removing the tough hide and carving large enough pieces to feed both himself and his fellows should they need to eat on the journey. He stuffed the fresh meat in a sealed container, which was now safely held inside of a leather satchel that hung from his left shoulder.
He, of course, was referring to the dead children. He expected them to feel sentimental, to want to give the younglings a proper send-off. But they realized that doing so was a waste of time. Good. They were learning quickly.
“Alrighty, then,” Malos chuckled. “Let's not waste anymore time. We'll probably lose track of the prints eventually, so I hope you two prepared for a lengthy search. If we're lucky, the killers will come after us. That way we'll get this over with quickly.”

Trin would notice no real damage to her glaive; not even a nick to the blade on the weapon. A welcome sight, now that her knife was stuck in the face of some beast.

Volacius seemed eager to press on, in his own way. He wasn't leaping about, beaming with excitement. But Malos could tell that he was the brooding type, and that silence meant he was simply ready to get on with this. Malos felt similarly, though he obviously expressed himself quite differently.

Darth Malos motioned for the two Sith acolytes to follow, the darkness of the night doing little to demotivate the trio of darksiders. The footprints were faint, slowly being covered by additional layers of sand. Malos was right that, in time, the footprints would be gone. Hopefully by that point, there would be another lead. If not, there were far too many options as to where these killers could have gone.
But these killers, and Damian Kento, had to be found. Foul creatures that would dare to attack younglings under the tutelage of Darth Dreadwar's Sith Empire had to be punished. And while finding Kento was secondary, he was still an asset to the Empire. Losing such an asset would only be a waste, and a quick glance at the rotting corpses of the other younglings only showed that there had been enough waste today.
“We have a job to do, lady and gentleman,” the Sith Lord spoke. “Let's get on with it.”




They were not so fortunate in their search. The Sith had lost the footprints only a few hours after they began to follow them, leaving them without any inkling as to where they went beyond the same direction that the killers had been heading: north. While that was a possibility, there were at least half a dozen caves between where they started the search and where they were now.
None were officially marked as Sith tombs, making them less dangerous to search, yet no less time consuming. The killers could have gone into any of these caves. It was quite maddening if one was impatient. Thankfully, Malos was already quite mad.
Along the side of the valley, the three sat at a campfire. Malos leaned towards the flames, cooking a piece of the meat he had saved from the Tuk'ata before. It was not the best cuisine possible, even in the situation they were in. The meat was tough, and the wild game flavor was unmistakable. But it was still better than starving, regardless.
It was early morning, possibly five or six hours past twilight. The Sith had searched two more caves the day before, finding nothing but shyracks and k'lor’slugs. The more caves they searched in vain, the more Malos began to doubt that these killers were even in one of the caves. But he could not be sure. What if they simply traveled north for kilometers more, missing the murderers along the way?
He simply wished they had more to go on, and he was sure that the acolytes did, too.

Sparking conversation where there was none, the Sith Lord spoke after another unsatisfying bite of meat, “We've got to change tactics. At this rate, Kento will be an old man by the time we find him. Any ideas?”

TAGS: cliojayne , volacius

IC: Volacius
Location- Wilderness, Korriban

The light from the fire flickered in Volacius’ eyes. He stared at it, the dancing flames the only mildly interesting thing he had seen on their journey. They reminded him of his life, the inferno of pain, suffering and perseverance that had forged him into who he was now, and who he would become.
Volacius had hoped this task would at least give him an opportunity to prove his strength in the eyes of his superiors, but after three days of endlessly trekking through caves and cutting down the occasional beast, his limited patience was wearing thin. It took an extra moment for him to recognize that Malos had addressed him.
“If it were up to me, I would abandon this search altogether,” he offered, his eyes still fixated on the fire. “At this point there is no chance we will find whatever assailant was responsible for the murders. I would instead install surveillance at the scene of the killings and station some expendable sentries as bait to see if the culprits return. In my opinion, that is most efficient. Either they return, kill the sentries and give us a fresh lead, or they don’t, in which case they would no longer be worth the trouble of hunting down.”

cliojayne, darthkain7

IC Darth Hypnos and Lemmy
Prisoner cell, Ninushodojinyaut

Hypnos knew this voice. He knew what brought the fear to the stalked eyes of his Rakatan companion. All normal beings should feel fear in the face of Darth Venomis.

Darth Hypnos was no normal being.

He had the unique advantage of being former lieutenant to the Lord of Rot. He was immune to the primary source of Mngall-Mngall’s corruption. He was privy to the tricks the monstrosity would use to defeat its enemies. He would not fall for the same trick twice. The Force Scream that radiated through the air was one that Hypnos could wear. Nanosecond of reaction time allowed him to dampen the audioreceptors of his chassis and Force Defense would help him weather the rest of the attack with hopefully minimal injury. Hypnos could feel the nanites travelling through the infected blood of what used to be Persevus. Hypnos could still sense electromagnetic activity within the Sith Lord's skull as well. There was still a chance. Hypnos just had to be quicker than Venomis.

While the Rot controlled Persevus’s body, Hypnos would endeavor to gain control of his mind. The nanites had to be accelerated. Hypnos had thankfully injected them near Persevus’s spinal column. They only had a small distance to travel to reach the Sith Lord’s brain. Hypnos silently directed them to gather around the branches of Persevus’s nervous system. Then all they had to do was latch on. It wasn’t the optimal technobeast conversion method, but it would cause the body of Persevus extreme pain. Hypnos only hoped it was enough to coerce the consciousness of Persevus to regain control. He willed the nanites within Persevus to each generate a miniscule electric shock. Individually, none would cause more than a minor sting, but the combined force of thousands of them could potentially have the power to disable Persevus.

While Hypnos appeared calm and collected, truly there was little outward reaction to the possessed Persevus’s onslaught, Lemmy’s response was almost the opposite. He dove to the ground to avoid the bolt that bounced towards him, issuing forth a string of Huttese profanities. “KARKING BLACK TAR POODOO!” He rolled through the muck of the floor and into a corner of the room. He knew he wasn't going to be good for much in this fight. The goop that assaulted them was more than he bargained for. His main goal at this point was to survive. Retirement sounded better and better at this point. For now though, he just needed to get out of here.

TAG: Darth Dreadwar, gorzan