Everything was in order, for everything proceeded as planned. Indeed, for the briefest moment, Darth Manticore’s black lips curled in a smirk of satisfaction. The upcoming event promised to be a grand spectacle, yet these preparations would not have been possible without the assistance of Darth Azathoth, the one who well understood the Sith Riddle of Strength.

“All is ready.” The Zabrak Sith Lord rasped, even as he looked over his shoulder, fiery eyes radiating like baleful orbs beneath his obsidian hood.



Azathoth gave a deep bow to the Dark Lord of the Sith, a similar sly thin smile was plied on the Sith's face. He had enjoyed immensely the various preparations that had taken place for the grand symphony of carnage that was about to unfold. His eyes hovering to that of Manticore.

"The Trial of Power truly begins..."

​

And thus, the stage was set and the torch of ascension lit.

****

THE TRIAL OF POWER​

​

Korriban, Home world of the Sith


Sith Temple

The Deserts of Korriban could feel the pulse of power that charged the very air. The momentous occasion began to unfold in that very moment. A Trial of Power. The Ascension of a High Lord. Two Lords had proven themselves worthy for such a cause. Worthy to face each other, worthy to reach for the prize. The two Lords were: Darth Iudex and Darth Bernael.

​

Through invitation only, the Sith were summoned to the grand event, and so, the Sith came.

All those gathered would know the grand stakes of this duel. That whoever emerged victorious would become an esteemed High Lord. For such was the way of the Sith, to push themselves ever further - to greater heights. The unending vicious cycle of destruction and reconstruction, where both Sith would emerge greater than before.



Sith Grand Arena

The Grand Arena that had been constructed for this moment stood tall. The Emperor's Box was located above the rest of the floating stands, looking down at the now-empty ring.

Shuttles had come in from throughout the Galaxy to bring the Sith Order together for this momentous occasion. Security was tight, ensuring that no unwanted intruders would enter the sanctity of this event. To do so would guarantee the most grievous reprisals.

The rules of the duel were simple: No killing, no drinking of souls. Clash until one Sith yields and the other triumphs.

The two Sith Lords were measured, each according to their prowess and deemed fit for combat.

It was time to begin.

Come then, all ye Sith! Come and witness the Trial of Power, behold the ascension of a Sith High Lord - marvel at the collective strength that would make an entire galaxy tremble.

Tags: @Sinrebirth, @Lady Belligerent, @HanSolo29, @QueenSabe7, @darthbernael, @Silvertough, @DarthIshyZ, @Nehru_Amidala, @E. L.Knight , @Dagobahsystem

 

An invitation to all Sith. Come! Gather! Behold the splendor of the Trial of Power! Witness the clashing of two grand warriors as they strive ever greater to the heights of Power the Sith have to offer. Stare in wonder as a new High Lord is born and the supremacy of the Sith Order is once again reaffirmed.

Glory to the Order!

Glory to the Empire!

Glory to the Sith!

TAG: @Snokers, @PCCViking, @darthhelinith, @Quinlan Vos, @Narancia, @WookieeRage, @Master Vo'Un'Var, @Skya, @Gostwolf

 

IC Underlord Bernael
Sith Grand Arena



Bernael had prepared for this moment for years, he often preferred the shadows but he knew that often a Shadow must do more than simply stick to them. In that time he’d risen in the Order, had been apprenticed to a High Lord, knew the Emperor of another life, when he’d been that worthy’s apprentice as well, both excellent training for this moment. He’d faced monsters, demons, pain, suffering, death, rebirth, love, and gods, including his own Father. And none of it had stopped him.

He’d found a blood brother in the zabrak Dark Lord Manticore, he’d been bestowed the title of Lord Hunger as his brother had become Lord Hate, he and the then High Lord Manticore had been given the honor of being Emperor Insipid's right and left hands in enforcing his will. And when his brother had ascended he knew that he must take the opportunity to fulfill what was needed, to assist the reorder of the Order, to assist its growth and evolution, to bring about a new ‘Golden Age’.

He’d taken part in the initial portion of the Trial of Power, advanced, as had his foe, Underlord Iudex to reach this point, the duel, the fight between two beings that both believed they should be the next High Lord. He could not speak for Iudex’s reasons to desire the position, he would not have been so rude as to read his friend and, now temporarily, foe’s mind. But his own motivations were...well Sith desired power, among other things, but what was power for power’s sake alone but an empty promise and soon an unmarked grave as another took your place. No...power must be grasped to be wielded, not just for your own gain but for the good of the Order. What good is it to become a High Lord and not pledge yourself to the evolution and growth of that body?

Those were the thoughts that passed through Bernael’s mind as he travelled to the Sith Grand Arena, having spent the last evening before the duel ensuring his own energy levels were as full as they could possibly be, minor force users, as many criminals as possible in that regard, had gone missing from the towns that dotted the world around the Sith Temple.

Entering a chamber, he sat for several moments, clearing his head. He held no enmity for Iudex, did not hate or despise the Falleen, but in this they were foes. He would not stop, would not hesitate in this battle. After a short time, he stood, his hands instinctively moving over his cloak and armor. He wore matte black and dark grey mottled armor, streaked with highlights of red. The cloak was of similar colors, save for the red, it was only on the armor. His featureless black mask sat upon his face, not even his eyes visible, though the silver was already fading from them, to black, as battle began to flow in his form.



He checked that his lightsaber hilts sat freely in their sheathes, that his many daggers were likewise sheathed but ready to swiftly draw or have thrown with simply a thought. At long last he was satisfied. One last nod, to no one in particular, as he was alone, he stepped forth from the chamber.

The walk was quiet, until he could sense the entrance to the Grand Arena before him. As his pace carried him toward the ring that would determine which of them would ascend, he could hear quiet susurrus's of sound, the Sith that were, even now, gathering as they found their seats. Stepping out of the entrance that had been set aside for him, he paced calmly and slowly to the ring, ignoring, for the moment, the noise of the stands floating overhead, the Emperor’s box above even those.

One last step remained, literally, to step into the ring, and figuratively, to ascend by defeating his opponent. He took the literal step, entering the ring. Turning a circle he noticed the Peons, acknowledged the Apprentices, nodded in recognition and respect to the Underlords and Lords, before turning to where the High Lords seats were. He nodded in deep respect to both High Lord Syren and his former master High Lord Graul before a quiet look settled on the third, empty High Lord seat for a moment.

Finally he turned, a bow of profound respect to his brother, Dark Lord Manticore and Dark Lady Bellorum before he bowed one last time, to Emperor Insipid, one fist clashing against his chest, a salute.

A thought rolled out, he as the epicentre…

Hail the True Sith Empire,

Hail the True Sith Order,

Hail the High Lords,

Hail the Triumvirs,

Hail the Emperor,

Hail the Sith!

He turned once more, mind already closing out everything but what would come from the other entrance, the Falleen, Underlord Iudex. He stood, still as a statue, as he awaited his opponent and the commencement of the duel.

TAGS: @Silvertough, @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @Darth_wanderguard, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough, @darthhelinith, @Master Vo'Un'Var @Narancia, @Skya

 

IC: Underlord Iudex
Sith Grand Arena

Spoiler: Ambiance

Silence. Silence filled the dreary halls of the Sith Temple. It's inhabitants had long since awoken and departed, departed for what was expected to be a once in a lifetime demonstration of Dark Side supremacy. A duel for the title of High Lord of the Sith through a hallowed Trial of Power. The Temple had been seemingly abandoned for the event, with even the many slave pens dotting the perimeter being ritually emptied the night prior.

Deep, deep within the heart of the dungeons, there remained a single being, a lone heartbeat ringing against the Temple's swallowing silence. The room he occupied was barren, save for a single, faint candle. The walls, floor, and ceiling were but crumbling masonry, hardly fitting for their prestigious occupant. A loud craaack echoed about the chamber, as it had in perfect routine for the entirety of the night. The kneeling figure hissed softly, completing the sequence. Beads of sweat flowed down the figure's face as a faint smile broke the dour expression which had occupied it for the last twenty-four hours.

It was time.

Darth Iudex slowly rose to his feet, dropping a bloodied bundle of knotted rope from his hands as he moved across to the far side of the chamber. Thick plates of blackened Durasteel silently floated into the air as the Falleen glided by, seemingly on their own accord. A heartbeat later, the dense metal lept towards his half-naked frame, viciously clamping down around any hint of exposed skin with resounding clangs. A pained gasp forced it's way through the Falleen's lips as his back, having been ravaged by the ritual, was yanked to and fro by the rapidly sealing armor. A second later, and it was done. He was ready.

The self-flagellation had but a single purpose. Pain. Iudex's opponent wasn't one to tire out, to be worn down. It was an impossibility. So the Falleen would fight, fueled by the agony which would accompany his every movement. To sacrifice was to be Sith. Such had propelled the Fallen Sith to where he was now, it was only natural that a little more would secure him the title of High Lord. Sacrifice,and Judgement. That is what he offered for the Sith.

Iudex's rise through the ranks of the Order had been paved in the blood of both ideals. His own name, sacrificed upon the altar of his betrayed kin at the lightsabers of the Acolytes of the Beyond. Across the galaxy he traveled, cursing their names and planning their demise. It was only after a chance crash-landing upon the forgotten world of Kesh did he meet Emperor Insipid, and get inducted into his grand Order. Power for loyalty, that had been the contract signed in spirit between the two. Following his teachings, Iudex rapidly grew in strength and power, cutting a bloody swathe through whoever dared to question the authority of Insipid's Sith.

And now, Iudex's most hated foes lay dead, beaten to death by own hands. Judgement has been delivered to his own enemies, and now it was time for the Falleen to turn inward, to pass sentence upon his beloved Sith. The Trial would be his ultimate test, to shape all those in attendance, and all who joined the Temple afterwards. Whether by his own hands, or by his Anzati Foe.

High Lord Iudex or High Lord Bernael.

Either way, Judgement would be served.


Iudex was silent along his walk to the Grand Arena, save for the rhythmic clanking of his heavy armor. Twin lightsabers swung freely from loops along his belt, the Falleen' sole armament, save for a single blaster pistol strapped to his hip. He chuckled, patting the holstered pistol. Nostalgia, rather than practicality, had guided his decision to bring along such a weapon. A reminder of his days before the Sith, if such a time ever mattered.

A large stone archway suddenly broke the monotony of the long hallway he had been traveling. The Arena lay just beyond, if the din of the crowds were any indication. His expression hardened as fresh aches radiated from his wounded flesh. More fuel for the cold fury which burned within. Iudex broke from the hallway, finally stepping out into view of the crowd.

He proceeded up onto the central ring, where upon his foe, Underlord Berneal, already stood watching. Good.

The stands surrounding the Arena were packed, filled to the brim with denizens of the Empire. Keshiri, Hapans, Sith. Iudex's eyes slowly scanned the crowd, offering each Sith a moment of eye contact. His gaze fell upon those of the Emperor, where they remained held. Power, for Loyalty. That had been the contract signed between them, one that had been upheld. Iudex slowly offered him a full-waisted bow, even as fresh rivulets of blood trickled down his spine.

With your blessing. The thought rolled out as he rose, finally turning to face his opponent. Iudex held no hatred for Hunger, in fact, he felt honored to be even considered close to his equal. But such thoughts were irrelevant. The decision had been made, the pair would duel, for personal glory and the advancement of the Sith. Whoever won, judgement would be dealt. So be it.

Iudex offered Bernael a bow of his head, before calling both of his lightsabers to his hands. "My Lord." He intoned, activating his twin crimson blades with quick succession. "Shall we begin?"


TAGS: @darthbernael , @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @Darth_wanderguard, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough, @darthhelinith, @Master Vo'Un'Var @Narancia, @Skya

 

IC Underlord Bernael
Sith Grand Arena

Spoiler

Bernael’s acute hearing picked up the sounds of his opponent’s arrival before he saw the Falleen. The heavy, slow footfalls told him more of what Underlord Iudex had done to prepare than his eyes would have with an immediate sighting. His black on black eyes opened behind the mask as he felt Iudex enter the ring.

The corners of his lips twitched as he took in his foe. He studied Iudex as the Falleen addressed the Sith. He would not speak, not be rude or impatient enough to do so, as his opponent addressed the crowd. He could see what Iudex had done and it was both a brilliant and amusing solution that Iudex had taken to how to face him.

He bowed his head in return to Iudex, respect received and given.

His sabers remained sheathed for the moment as he stood silently, not yet answering Iudex. The silence drew out. And then his shoulders rolled, his voice finally sounding in the ring.

”My Lord, I believe it would be wise, honorable, and in an event with the magnitude of this, right and just to not simply jump into this duel. We have been called before the Sith to decide the next High Lord. Therefore, is it not prudent to allow the High Lords, the Dark Lords, the Emperor himself to have their say? That we wait for the moderator of this duel to announce to the Sith the commencement of this duel?”

TAGS: @Silvertough, @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @Shadowsun, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @darthhelinith, As more than ten tags do not register for those tagged, All Sith otherwise may consider themselves tagged for the duel

 

Words were exchanged between the two Underlords, their positions made clear by their utterances and actions; the moment stretched and dilated as it grew in intensity.

An orison from the Circle of Lords was sought, a consecration to mark the moment. Indeed, such a gesture would officiate the duel of Underlords and serve as a signal to begin in earnest.

 

Double Post is Emperor Approved

**************************
IC: Dark Lord Manticore
Sith Grand Arena



He had arrived a shadow and methodically he rose, steadily, to take his place in the Box reserved for the Triumvirate, for the Dark Lords of the Sith.

The significance of the moment did not escape him, how could it, for it was impossible to do so; all he could do was imbibe it, embraced it. The Zabrak Sith Lord took his rightful place in the elevated box and peered down at the ring. A memory played in his mind, one where he was a mere angry Sith, full of Hatred. He was one of many Sith on that fateful day, a day where in a similar arena, he engaged in bloody battle, in mortal combat. That battle took place so long ago, yet seemed like yesterday. It was his performance in that battle, his anger, his hatred, that saw him worthy to become the chosen Sith Apprentice to the Dark Lord of that time.

He’d looked up then, his eyes alight with the flames of his unquenchable hate, and now, he peered down at the combat circle, and this time, he was the Dark Lord.

Darth Manticore took in a sharp breath as he inhabited that singular moment. Every struggle he had ever fought, every enemy he had ever killed, every victory and defeat had led to this moment- this achievement. This was the way of the Sith.

Moreover, he also understood a fundamental truth. Chiefly, that this wouldn’t have been possible for him at any other point in time, except in this, the Era of Dark Lord Insipid, Emperor of the Sith.

Fiery eyes flashed brightly, yet deep with purpose.



SITH!!!!

Manticore bellowed with unrestrained ferocity, his voice carrying through the arena, enhanced by the force. Being a Dark Lord was not a mere title.

It was something one became.

“Sith!! This is synonymous with Power, with Conquest, with Strength, with Supremacy. We are Sith! For that is what we are.”

Shrouded by his black robes, Manticore opened his arms wide, as if inviting an embrace.

“It matters not your beginnings, for when you are Sith, you are remade, reforged, repurposed and renewed- and through this process, after you are fractured, after you’ve been broken, you are reformed- stronger than before!"

The Sith Lord spoke with unbridled conviction, even as he balled his right fist and squeezed it tight for emphasis, clenching his teeth, baring them in a fanged moment.

“Behold and witness two Sith, Underlords, worthy!”

Fiery eyes gazed with unspoken pride at the two battle ready Lords.

“Lord Bernael and Lord Iudex are proven, beyond any shadow of a doubt- and though both are indeed worthy, only one can ascend to become a High Lord.

And so, you both must decide who shall be thus named, through a trial of combat, a Trial of Power.”

Manticore paused, sensing and feeling the moment, taking-in his fellow Sith, the two combatants, the Lords, and the Circle of Lords. Leading meant moving forward, never back- unless it was for a very specific purpose.

“Therefore, on this occasion, I ask only that you give what you've always given: Your very best.”

A fist is raised high and held there for several heartbeats, then it's brought firmly down like a gavel, upon a gloved palm.

“BEGIN!!”

Tags: @Sinrebirth, @Lady Belligerent, @HanSolo29, @QueenSabe7, @darthbernael, @Silvertough, @DarthIshyZ, @Nehru_Amidala, @Shadowsun, @darthhelinith, All Sith at the event!

 

IC: Darth Azathoth

​

After all his final conversation with Manticore to ensure all the necessary preparations were complete, the Sith Underlord made his to his allocated seat among the Underlords. He was immensely honored and proud that Dark Lord Manticore had selected him from amongst the order to serve as Magistrate. Long had their discussion been in preparation but now they were here, at the appointed hour where glory would truly take root. He was sure they would have a similar fascinating discussion after the duel's conclusion.

Azathoth had never personally dueled Bernael or Iudex. But both were fearsome opponents of this he was sure. His hours spent in the Sith Archives, reading of their exploits, gathering knowledge as was the way of Darth Azathoth. Azathoth's eyes wandered to that of Manticore, his eyes squinting to see if he could make out the rest of the Dark Lords and High Lords. He was sure they would make a presence at this wonderous event, anything else would be most unexpected.

And so a small, sly smile drifted unto Azathoth's face, his eyes glinting with a slight sadistic glee as he brought his mechanical arm to his side. The soft clicking noises as his drummed his fingers on the seat.

Thus it was beginning a new era for not only the Sith, but also both Underlords. Such was the Way of the Sith.

TAG: @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125 @Lady Belligerent @HanSolo29 @QueenSabe7 @darthbernael @Silvertough @ All Sith!

 

​

IC: Apprentice Impetuous
Broken, in the process of reforming.

​

"Blood on Blood."

"Ashes to Ashes."

"Dust to Dust."​

These were the things Darth Impetuous whispered to himself in his own mind as the event was beginning; anticipation had filled the air, the tension was thick, and the energies of the Darkside was truly alive in the arena.

What a time to be alive!

A new high lord would be crowned at this very arena; Impetuous had never seen an event like this before. But he wasn't going to miss this in any reality.

Impetuous would have made his entrance grandiose and epic; however, he was trying to pace himself after his fight with 3 Sith Lords in the Rancor pit. Dark Lady Bellorum's words affected Impetuous as the Impetuous of old would've misconstrued her message of one that'll inflate his ego. But at that moment, Impetuous felt different; what he felt was responsibility.

In Impetuous's mind, Bellorum was trying to convey the importance of his passion and its effect on the Sith and the importance of learning to master himself to become a master within the Sith order. So Impetuous was trying to conquer his weaknesses, but he couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy for Azathoth's position as the Magistrate for the event. Impetuous was even contemplating whether or not he could catch up to Azathoth and become a true rival. In fact, it didn't even feel like a rivalry at times; instead, it felt like Impetuous was using Azathoth as a bar of measurement to push himself towards, and the gap was still massive as Impetuous was only an apprentice while Azathoth was an under lord.

But Impetuous had to try! He needed to push himself and he had a plan; it was a long shot and required a lot of luck, patience, resources, and lots of trial and error to pull off, but there was a plan in place. Whether or not it would pay off would remain to be seen. Impetuous, however, couldn't worry about that, nor could he make this event about him. As this event belonged to the Sith, to the two lords at the center of the arena, Berneal and Iudex so Impetuous bowed before the under lords, lords, and dark lords in attendance, especially his master High Lord Graul, his former master Lady Syren, Emperor Insipid and the arbiter Dark Lord Manticore before taking a seat of his own.

So all Impetuous could now do was bid his time. All he could do was watch, wait, listen and learn...

TAG: No one.
(OOC: Since everyone is already tagged.)

 

Underlord Bernael
Sith Grand Arena

Bernael sensed as more of the Sith entered the stands, felt the energy surging, but stood, silently facing Iudex, the silence drawn out after his questions. The silence was finally broken by Dark Lord Manticore’s roar, his announcement ringing out across the entire arena. As his brother gave the order for the duel to begin he saluted, fist to chest.

Now was no longer the time to wait, it was the time to act. He advanced on Iudex, hands free. That armor, even if it was light, made the taller, massive being even more massive. His eyes roamed it, seeking its weak points, which were few. But every set of armor could be breached.

When he reached a pair of paces from his opponent, his hands were suddenly no longer empty. Both saber hilts were in his hands, neither lit yet. A cold smile rose to his face, behind the mask and he touched the Force. He blurred slightly as he moved, racing around Iudex’s right side, a pair of sift strokes, along the creases of the armor melded to his back. Before he was even sure of whether either had hit or not, his speed took him past the Falleen and a few paces to Iudex’s left.

His sabers spun in a circle around him, “That must have been quite painful, adhering your armor to your flesh.” he said in a flat , toneless voice, softly enough that it passed only between him and Iudex.

TAGS: @Silvertough, @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @Shadowsun, DarthIshyZ, @Darth Cocytus, @darthhelinith, All Sith otherwise may consider themselves tagged for the duel

 

IC: Dark Lady Bellorum

She coalesced from the shadows, fashionably late, and clothed in black from head to toe. Her choice of diamonds added some sparkle, a tiara might have been an option, if this had been a night at the opera. Instead she went with an elegant thin diamond diadem, that she thought was perfect for a newly named Empress, and this was an important occasion. She walked over to the seating area with Emperor Graul escorting her.

Bellorum took a seat and wished Insipid and Manticore good evening before opening her hand bag to retrieve a pair of opera glasses trimmed with onyx and pearl.

“Have we seen a report on our revenue so far from the merch for this event?” She asked her fellow triumvirs as she raised her glasses to study the duel below.

Tag: @ Sith Empire

 

IC: Underlord Iudex
Sith Grand Arena

Iudex's focus remained fixated upon the Anzati's face, even as more and more Sith made their arrivals known. Intending disrespect was the last thing the Falleen wanted, but he had seen the aptly named Hunger fight. Witnessed first hand his savagery towards those he considered foes. No, in the end, keeping Bernael directly within his line of sight was worth the risk, political consequences aside.

Upon the order of the Dark Lord Manticore, the deadly stare-down had officially concluded.

"And so.." The Falleen whispered, rising to his full height. "It begins."

Spoiler: Ambiance II

He blinked, and the Anzati was upon him, dashing with incredible speed around to his rear. Iudex remained facing forwards, turning only his head to track Bernael's movements. The Vampire was fast, blindingly so, but this was simply a test of his defenses, nothing to get worked up over.

Iudex's lightsabers lept from his hands in an impossibly tight arc around his flanks, their blades passing mere centimeters up along his armored shell. His own blades descended opposite Bernael's, batting them out of harms way at the last second. The Falleen finally turned, once more facing his foe head on as he recalled his lightsabers to his open palms. A simple defense, for a simple attack. Back to square one.

"A rather primitive solution, I confess.." Iudex responded coldly as he began to slowly advance, his lightsabers held forwards in a protective 'X'. "We'll see if the tree produces fruit, together!"

Before the words had fully left his tongue, Iudex lept into action, closing the gap with a single Force-assisted stride. Once more his lightsaber hilts had vanished from his hands, tossed up into the sky to crash down upon the head and shoulders of Bernael in spinning twin arcs. They were but a distraction. Iudex lunged forwards again, exploding into a blur in motion, leaving only a dramatic trail of writhing electricity in his wake.

White-hot lightning surged from Iudex's outstretched fingers, directed near point-blank into Bernael's chest. There was no fanfare or pointed remarks, not this time. The Dark Side would provide, as it always had.

TAGS: @darthbernael , @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @Shadowsun, DarthIshyZ, @Darth Cocytus, @darthhelinith

 

IC Underlord Bernael
Sith Grand Arena

Bernael truly had not expected his initial attack to cause damage or even strike Iudex. It had been, as with all things, a test. And the test gave him even more to work with with regards to Iudex and what he would do in this situation. As the Falleen closed the distance the small smile returned to the Anzati Lord’s face.

Suddenly Iudex was before him, the other’s sabers disappearing although he could sense the blades spiralling down at him at the same moment that lightning speared at his chest. His hand twitched as he grunted, the lightning impacting and his nerves dully crying out even as he stepped. But not backward out of the way of the descending sabers. He was suddenly between Iudex’s arms, one hand planted on his opponent’s chest.



Black lightning, colder than the frozen depths of Hoth, burst forth from his palm, against the armor. His other arm snapped up, black saber blade clashing against the two descending ones, to knock them off their course, certain Iudex would use his mind to compensate for his movement. Using the rebound of his saber from the blades, he stood, both enveloped in a corona of superheated and supercooled lightning, his other hand twisting and the tip of the saber diving for one of Iudex’s eyes.

TAG: @Silvertough

 

IC: Dark Lord Manticore
Between Circle and Box

The Zabrak tore his attention from the battle between Underlords, which had begun in earnest, much as he had expected. Both Bernael and Iudex knew that one false move was all it would take to declare the other the victor. Manticore did not wish to miss the fateful moment, yet he now operated on a different plateau than he had before- and must need comport himself accordingly.

“My Lords…” the recently elevated Dark Lord rasped in greeting, still getting used to the ways of Sith Court.

As one would expect, Dark Lady Bellorum was arrayed magnificently, as befitted one of her station. However, it was the Sith Emperor’s appearance that caused the Zabrak to raise an eyebrow. He had never seen Darth Insipid appear so ‘dapper’. What a curious transformation, then again, the event itself was justifiable cause for it.

“The match has begun.” Manticore informed them of the obvious, mostly to deflect from his initial reaction. He then turned back to gaging the match, even as he listened to the casual conversation in the Box. A smile slowly blossomed upon his black lips at seeing Iudex respond to Bernael’s probing with pressure of his ow, then seeing the Azant countering the challenge with aggression. The smile turned into a grin, even as their ever mounting ferocity became quite exquisite to behold.

Upon hearing that there was ‘merchandise’ from the event, Manticore stiffened for a split second. He had not been aware of that, but it stood to reason that a Grand Sith Empire needed a financier to keep it running, for such was indeed a titanic endeavor. All Sith, especially the leadership, were duty bound to contribute to the Sith Order’s wealth and he did have a few ‘ideas’ of his own, thought that was a matter for another time.

Below upon the combat circle- before his fiery gaze, the battle for the seat of High Lord was in progress, and as the Sith Battlemaster and Judge of the event, he had a duty to perform, one he planned on fulfilling to the uttermost.


Tag: @Sinrebirth, @Lady Belligerent, @darthbernael, @Silvertough, All Sith

 

IC: High Lord Aryan Graul
The Box

Dressed smartly in a black tailored suit with a crimson cape draped over his right shoulder, Aryan swept into the box at Dark Lady Bellorum's side, his expression an impassive mask of stern stoicism. This was a grandiose event—unlike any other that he had previously witnessed alongside the Sith—and so, it was imperative that he not openly project his thoughts or opinions about the proceedings. While it was true that one of the combatants was his former apprentice, that did not give him the advantage in this instance. Bernael would have to prove his worth if he wanted the glory; the same as Iudex. The victor would eventually ascend to the coveted role of High Lord, after all.

It would be a grueling process, one which would require their undivided attention to render the proper results, but for the moment, Aryan turned to regard the members of the Triumvirate and bowed his head in greeting. Insipid was his usual unflappable—if eccentric—self as he laughed and reveled in the festivities while Manticore, ever the ardent and devoted servant, remained focused on the task at hand.

However, the object of his affection remained Lady Bellorum, who served as his wife and confidant. Even now, he maintained their professional veneer as he leaned forward to inspect the diadem she had chosen for the occasion. "Huh, I don't remember that one," he murmured under his breath, one brow lifting accusingly. Nevertheless, he recognized that this was not the proper time to delve into such trivialities.

Instead, he reached below his seat and produced a bag that contained an amber-colored bottle of whiskey. "Whyren's Reserve, sixteenth vintage," Aryan relayed to the others with an impish smirk. "I figured that we could indulge a little, especially on such a monumental occasion."

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IC: Dark Lady Bellorum


Aryan leaned in close to inspect her diadem with a comment.

"Huh, I don't remember that one,"

Bellorum smiled slightly at Aryan’s comment, “well, I guess you haven’t seen everything…,” she turned to the side and motioned to a servant and met Aryan’s eyes and with a sultry tone finished her statement with one soft word, “…yet.”

The servant entered carrying a large charcuterie board and a tray with a bottle of wine. “I’ll leave the whisky to you boys, but I’ve brought plenty of snack to share.” The board was covered in exotic cheeses, cured meats, and fruits. There were small jars of jams and mustards on one side, the other side had piles of breads and crackers.

She stopped for a moment to watch the combatants exchange attacks, then remembered she had picked up gifts from the merch counter.

“I have gifts for Insipid and Manticore,” she handed them small packages that contained briefs from the Sith line being
offered to those in the audience. “They should go well with your new shirt, Emperor,”
she smirked at Insipid.



“For Aryan,” she handed him a small package containing cuff links.



“You can visit the concession for the briefs if you decide you desire a pair,” she laughed playfully before reaching for a slice of bleu cheese and a thin cracker while asking, “have we seen any clear victor yet?”

Tag: @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125 @HanSolo29


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IC: Darth Azathoth
Questions

Azathoth turned his attention ever so briefly from the ensuing combat, which had thus far proven to be excellent, although was only just beginning, to that of the Triumvirate and High Lords. A chuckle escaped from his Azathoth's lips as he watched the Emperor burn something, which appeared to be undergarments, ablaze. His eyes squinted however as he realized that it was indeed the Emperor. He had never seen his former Master's face prior to this moment. Not that he could think of, and he looked so... familiar.

​

He was surprised but the likeness he bore with the Emperor. An idle thought passed in the Underlord's mind, before being quickly dismissed.

No. Impossible... he thought darkly to himself. Whatever the case this was certainly not the time to be thinking such questions. This was the Epic of Iudex and Bernael. On that and that alone is where his attention should be focused at this time. His mind came back to the continuing duel, his mind pocketing his thought for another time as he basked in the glory of the two Underlords.

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IC: Dark Lord Manticore
Judge and Sentinel

Sabers clashed as they snarled vehemently against one another, electricity coruscated, then crackled with unfettered fury; the ozone pulsed- thick with power!! Manticore remained standing, enraptured by the struggle below, for it pleased him greatly, yet the zabrak managed to find his vaunted discipline and turned in order to respectfully nod at High Lord Aryan Graul in greeting.

The recently married man was always attired sharply, that was no surprise; however, the crimson cape against the black suit was especially becoming, and quite so! It was in that moment that a servant was called, bearing edible treats and wine. Manticore wasn’t feeling particularly hungry or thirsty at that moment - for good reason.

To his own surprise, the Zabrak suddenly found himself accepting a most curious gift from Dark Lady Bellorum, which in that instance, rendered him mute, even as he simply blinked twice, before once again finding his lost voice.

“Empress…” He rasped, then offered a nod, the accepted gift now smoothly placed on his empty seat. As the Judge of the event, Manticore had resolved that he would remain standing, in order not to miss a single moment.

A sentiment the Emperor echoed in his own fiery way. Manticore did glean the more nuanced layers from his pronouncement as well, yet he too turned back to focus on the battle- he could feel a critical moment approaching. Despite that, there was something else that brushed at the edge of his perception, yet he could not quite describe it.

Insipid’s countenance. The Emperor’s visage had been a mystery until now. Why then did it seem somehow….familiar?

The matter was immediately filed, for his attention was being tested. It was for this express reason that he always stood alone when observing duels, except this event was ‘the’ exception to that rule. No, he would not fail in his duty and would brook no more distractions.

In a single motion, Manticore brought both his arms, wrapped in Sith robes, and folded them over his chest. This gesture would speak for him, possibly with more clarity than any words he could utter.

Manticore’s eyes lit afire once again, even as his smirk returned slowly, now that he immersed himself yet again in the duel, eagerly measuring, and spectating the struggle of supremacy for the grand prize.


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IC: Underlord Iudex
Sith Grand Arena

Iudex hissed sharply as Berneal's own black lightning flowed through his exposed breastplate. His skin cracked and warped under the polar charge of the attack, the lightning being so different than the kind he could produce. Iudex blinked, surprised to find Bernael not only deflecting his own attacks with ease, but charging forwards. His lightsabers had been knocked aside, and Bernael rushed in for the kill, intending to spear him through the eyes with his blade.

Iudex's snapped his hand forwards, clasping it tight around the hand Bernael had placed against his chest and yanked backwards, intending to pull the Vampire off balance as he retreated a step. A low growl rippled through the Falleen throat as he twisted his head to the side, managing to avoid a fatal thrust, if only barely. The blade's tip easily sliced through Iudex's face-plate like a hot knife through butter. The skin along Iudex cheekbone ruptured and fused within milliseconds as the immense heat of the lightsaber completed its thrust, twin sources of agony which rippled through his mind.

A small sacrifice to add to the pile. If the Vampire wanted to get in close, Iudex was happy to oblige.

Without warning, the hundreds of blackened bands of weighty metal that made up Iudex's chestplate exploded outwards in a concentrated hail of deadly shrapnel. Bernael's nature-defying frozen lightning had weakened the bonds holding his armor together as it was. A concentrated Force Push did the rest. Iudex simultaneously recalled one of his own lightsabers to his free hand, mentally directing the other to slash horizontally against Bernael's spine.

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IC Underlord Bernael
Sith Grand Arena

At the moment that Iudex’s hand closed around his, Bernael released the flow of his lightning. A growl sounded as the hand closed, his lighter armor’s inner surface pressed against the flesh of his arm, reddened from the amount of lightning the two of them had been exchanging. The grab could mean only one thing and his mind snapped a concave arc of a force shield, the bowl of which faced his foe, between the two of them as Iudex pulled him forward.

He wasn’t completely fast enough as some of the shrapnel from the exploded armor was fast enough that it felt like an enormous punch in the gut as it impacted, a dribble of blood coming from the corner of his mouth beneath the mask. Twisting his arm in his foe’s grasp, growling again as he felt the armor grate against his reddened arm, he dropped to the ground, leaning forward in a crouch. Doing so just in time, as he felt the blade of Iudex’s saber grinding sideways across his back armor, slicing off a good portion of his long hair.

A grim smile crossed his face, his tongue licking out to taste his dripping blood, and as he pulled sharply to release his arm from Iudex’s grasp, closing his fist for a moment then releasing the energy in a blasting, narrow angle Force Push at Iudex’s head, a ‘punch’ with the Force. At the same moment, his other hand, blade horizontal, punched forward, just outside Iudex’s left knee, with the intent to either slice open Iudex’s knees or hit him hard enough with the power of the blade hitting him to take him from his feet.

TAG: @Silvertough

 

IC Underlord Bernael
Sith Grand Arena



Just as Bernael’s saber was about to contact Iudex’s legs he felt it, the subtle shift that spoke of the formal end of the duel. Time seemed to slow, he felt the gazes of the High Lords, the Triumvirs, and the Magistrate, as though they waited for him to continue the attack that he was in the midst of, past the allocated time. His arm froze in that instant, the heat of the saber a bare millimeter from the durasteel of the knee braces of Iudex’s knees. In that same frozen moment he ceased the punching Force Push and brought his arm down.

Pushing back with his feet, Bernael created a couple meters distance between himself and his opponent. His sabers returned to their sheathes and he twisted, shifted his shoulders, his arms, to determine the extent of any injuries that he had taken.

As he suspected there was a deep bruise on his abdomen from the explosion of the armor, his forearm, the hand of which had been against Iudex’s armor as it sent the lightning, had a series of burns, under the armor, almost to the elbow. There were a couple slashes in the shoulders of his armor, down the back a few centimeters, from when he had batted away Iudex’s sabers. And, as he reached behind him, he could feel a scoop taken out of the back of the armor, as well as the hair that had been sheared short, from that attack.

Finally satisfied by his self exploration, he turned, facing Iudex. A deep nod of respect to his opponent. ”I have not had a formal duel that refreshing in some time, Underlord Iudex. I appreciate the opportunity for us to have crossed blades. Perhaps another time we will have such an opportunity again.”

A shake of his head, ”Now we must await the judgement of the Judge and Magistrate.” he said with a final nod of respect to Iudex. He turned away from his opponent, approaching the floating box that the Triumvirs occupied. He bowed his head in respect to the High lords, a deeper bow of his head to the Dark Lady and Empress, to the Emperor slightly deeper, before turning to the Judge, a salute, fist clashing against his armor, before he bowed his head once more to the zabrak Dark Lord.

The duel, short as it had been had been enjoyable and he was intrigued as to what the review of their actions by the judge of the event, the esteemed warrior, Battlemaster, Dark Lord Manticore, and his very observant and intelligent Magistrate, Underlord Azathoth would reveal. He took an easy stance, hands clasping behind his back, silent, his own mind reviewing all of his own actions and reactions. Every battle was a learning opportunity, whether one such as this or a battle to the death.

The duel was ended, the final race had begun.

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IC: Underlord Iudex
Sith Grand Arena

Time seemed to slow to a crawl for Iudex as he watched Bernael's attacks with growing irritation. It would appear he had fallen for his own trap in too close to properly maneuver. There wasn't enough time to defend against both of the incoming attacks, not with Iudex's other saber still completing it's orbit away from him. Left with little options, the Fallen would be forced to triage. Bernael's punch would hurt, undoubtedly. But losing a leg? No, that would end the fight then and there.

The very notion he found repulsive. Any plan was preferable to that. With a guttural hiss, Iudex mirrored Bernael's upwards diagonal slash from his right side, fully intending to cut the Vampire down at the knees, same as he did for him. With luck, his Force Punch could be used as a backspring, launching him up and out of relative harm's way. From there, he could counter-attack, once more go on the offensive. Iudex grit his teeth, eyes burning with determination.

If this was to be it, so be it. He was taking Bernael down with him!

At the last possible second, the Force shifted, an inaudible command to cease their actions from those high above in the Stands. Such orders were absolute, without room for debate. In an instant, Iudex's extinguished his blades, their hilts continuing their harmless trajectories across Bernael's chest. The vampire did the same and they both hopped back a few meters from each other to safety.

The duel had concluded. So be it.

The Falleen rose slowly to his full height, subtly wincing in pain as he stretched. Looking down at himself, Iudex let out a relieved sigh. His exposed chest was a mess of spider-webbed blued scar-tissue, undoubtedly from the frozen lightning which had coursed through his skin. Small patches of blackened Durasteel had fused haphazardly across the skin of his belly, giving the affected area an almost shell-like appearance. Gingerly, Iudex raised a hand to his cheekbone. With a finger, he traced along the nearly six inch long cauterized gash delivered by Bernael's lightsaber. He was lucky there, an inch to the left, and he would have lost an eye..

Iudex placed his hands on his hips, satisfied with his inspection. The wounds were grievous, sure. But he had survived, a feat not guaranteed in the beginning. Besides, the fact he was near swimming in adrenaline at the moment really helped keep the sure-to-come consequences of his injuries far in the background of his mind.

Gingerly, Iudex returned Bernael's bow, offering his fellow Underlord a genuine smile. "You fought gloriously, Underlord Bernael. It was an honor to have crossed blades with you." He chuckled. "I look forward to doing this again."

To the assembled Triumvirates and High Lords, Iudex offered a low bow of respect. It was they who permitted such a duel in the first place. Without this opportunity, there was a high likelihood the Fallen Sith would have simply spent the afternoon skulking around the Temple, as per usual. He had enjoyed himself immensely, even if his body would pay the price of such festivities. Iudex slowly rose from his bow, content with his actions.

The final decision was out of his hands. It was up to the honored Dark Lord Manticore and his Magistrate, Underlord Azathoth now. He chuckled, not wanting it any other way.

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