Sith Temple----Temple sub levels----Draconis' private chambers----Three years prior to current events

The glass smashed against the stone floor, as Draconis sat slumped back slightly into a high backed chair bringing his hands up onto his face and dragging them downward, his skin pulling slightly as his hands rubbed his face. A deep breath in as he placed his hands together right in front of his mouth. Draconis was not in his usual temple dress, instead he wore a simple black garment which hung loosely on the floor held upright by a red robe belt around his waist. His long black hair hung down his back un restrained by the usual ties he used to band it with. Aside from the frustration shown in the outburst in swiping the glass off the table in front of him, Draconis was in a clam mood. Bringing a data pad up to his line of sight Draconis observed briefly the data before him and began to speak.

Record.

1800 hours day 125, seventh subject showed vast improvements... ...however I still was unable to further increase grafting of other species biological makeup beyond 47.2% original species total body makeup... Though application of new techniques has yielded vast improvements as mentioned. Giving an average net gain gain of 33.5% more application success.

End record.

Draconis continued to sit in his high back chair, however he leaned forward bringing himself into a better sitting posture while allowing his hands and arms to fall and rest on the table before him. The chamber which Draconis was in is one of several which he maintained, along with his private sleeping quarters. This particular his was a medium sized room, the ceiling was not particularly high only about four meters. The air was cold and damp, dungeon like, in fact Draconis had no doubt it was once used for such a purpose. The temple bowels were a place few others came down to Draconis relished the privacy, not too mention the space allowed since only he and the Gen'Dai Sith Lord inhabited this section of the temple.

Draconis brought his gaze up now looking across the room at a figure, a servant of the temple chained at the wrist and hanging limp against a dark grey stone wall. The particular figure was humanoid in appearance at first. However upon closer inspection one would notice severe scaring and burns on parts of his body as well as a biological makeup of skin and tissue foreign to the humanoid species. Beside the human off to the right was a similar figure chained and hanging though this figure was more alien in appearance, which also showed similar skin damage, but also tissue foreign to its biological makeup. Yet another individual hung to the right of the humanoid alien. This figure was another alien, blood dripped down his arms as the metal wore into its wrists as well a scrapping could be heard similar to metal scrapping stone. Observable on his back protruding outward are two large spikes shaped to shield or act as weapons. Both of which are grafted into the skin almost very neatly. However small droplets of blood seep out of the bandaged metal grafts where the implant into the skin tissue.

Draconis stood up form his chair and began to step walk across the room, pausing at a work table littered with tools and devices of many sorts as well as a stack of parchments. Stained and worn, as well as a large data pad screen which Draconis tapped multiple times entering and selecting different options and commands. Turning back and reading the ancient papers closely Draconis thumbed one side of the top paper flipping it back to read underneath it while shuffling papers with his other hand briefly that were scattered across another section of the table. Satisfied Draconis looked up releasing the papers and stepped closer towards his specimens. As he steps closer indiscriminate moans of fear and pain are heard briefly from the individuals before him as he observes and prepares to continue to apply and refine the ancient alchemy techniques.

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Eight months prior to current events

The wind was ferocious outside, not that Draconis minded being force inside this cavern. The runes and writing above the archway glowed slightly as Draconis stepped over the skeletal remains of a rather large creature. The crude furnace Draconis maintain was surprisingly effective, and the equipment gathered over the past few months had been a quest a specific mission which had given the will to fight off the voices and helped him mask the searing pain from the burns and charred skin covering half his body. A large howl from a creature almost directly in front of Draconis could be heard vibrating through the large cavern Draconis now called home. Hssiss were particularly easy to lure, but exceptionally hard to subdue. Suddenly the crackle of lightning and energy streams across the cavern lighting up its interior brightly as Draconis drains energy from it, bringing it close to death. The darkside dragon screams in pain and writhes to get away and break the heavy chains which bind it, though it is futile. The Sith master before it has sapped its energy and broken it to his will. Draconis steps around to the side of the dragon focusing his energy and calling upon the darkside of the force. All of his studies of the dark arts have led him to this which has consumed him for months now, and now doubt would continue to consume him for many to come. Draconis grips the dragon by one of its protruding horns grasping it tightly while hs focuses his energy on the crystals around the room and attached to equipment. Channeling the energy of the room and the life of the creature before him into himself reaching into the darkside heavily.

...the energy begins to calm as Draconis releases the dragon and steps back. The once living and breathing creature is now grossly distorted, missing skin expose bones as the now carcass smolders slightly. Draconis reaches up running his hand across one of his previously badly burned shoulders, which is now smoother, a different texture. Certainly not humanoid. Infused, altered by the dark arts. But at least on its way to being healed.

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~The Sith communicating with the Tuk'ata is the first to reply, shouting out in the tounge of the ancient Sith "Fine. You have delivered your warning. Now go, traitor. For whatever Sith religion you think has become weak, make no mistake - I - AM - NOT! Any who dares broke my way, shall taste the very pits of the Dark fires, as I fling them into it!" Her voice rings out in the night, echoing in the ancience language. High above the scene the dark figure, along with two more Tuk'ata, look on...no doubt effected by the words.

The fierce Zabrak replies next,"Tell us who is your MASTER!!" He demands of the beast. Lord Manticore sent his words both verbally and through the Force. "Tell us, lest you be reminded of the 'weakness' that conquered YOU!"

The large Tuk'ata narrows it's eyes, no doubt angry at the words spoken. Slowly it turns it's head back to look upon the dark figure atop the ledge. Before any words could be spoken...a small distraction is executed at the hands of an undead Sith, no doubt prompted back to life, or at least given a taste of life, during the Dark Lord's interaction with Azharan.
Quickly the attack is dispatched and another joins the team, brining their numbers to four. Though the Tuk'ata cares nothing. Instead, it answers the question demanded by the Zabrak...~

"Our Master...waits high above. You will meet him now."

~The beast grows back. There is a pause as it looks to it's counterpart, both beasts then rear their heads back and howl an ear piercing, eerie song in the night. For a moment there is silence.

The wind whips and curls, shifting the red rocky sands of Korriban. The dark figure atop the ledge, along with the two Tuk'ata, are no longer at the top of the ledge...rather the small group are moving in a blur to the side of the other two beasts on the floor of Korriban. In what feels like an instant...the cloaked figure stands before the small Sith group unmoved, unintimidated. Two Tuk'ata stand at either of his sides, poised ready to attack...yet they do not. It is almost as if this cloaked being has control of the savage beasts.

The moonlight bathes over the grouping in the wilds. With the winds still whispering, the cloak the being wears is pushed back slightly, revealing it's face; indeed the cloaked being, seeingly controlling the ancient Sith beasts, is a Kerestian. The beings empty black and amber eyes contrast to it's unusually pale skin. With an uncomfortable snorting sound, the being draws in a breath.~

"You will bring me before your Lord of the Sith. I wish an audience with him. We have much to...discuss."

~In a slothful and stringy tone the Kerestian speaks. He sounds unconcerned, unintimidated...and very serious.~

"I am but a harmless and humble messenger for those who hold the true power. The power conquer you, your kind, and your planet. Though, all can be avoided if you only take me before your Lord of the Sith. I have travelled across the Galaxy, for I have heard your Dark Lord is one of reason."

~The being continues to speak, his rather grotesque face still shadowed by his cloak. He does not appear to be armed, aside from the beasts at his sides, and within him there is no sense of deception. Even if there was deception within him...the Sith would be unable to sense him; oddly the being is absent from the Force, so far as their senses.

There is silence...there is tension. Much rests upon the shoulders of the Sith in the wilds of Korriban. These beasts before them ask for something quite large...but as large as their request is it is not impossible to grant. No doubt the Dark Lord's apprentice, Lord Manticore, will be inclined to grant such a request...as he no doubt knows better than all how the Dark Lord enjoys....reasoning with outsiders...~