Part Two: Logos
​

The remaining journey to the Sith Academy was quiet, desolate, and hot. The Peon Kato would be greatly exhausted from the journey and his battle with the Sith Hounds. But at last, he would see it. The Sith Academy.



The Voice of Azathoth had been completely silent during this leg of the journey. The hallowed halls of the Sith Academy towering over Kato, the Peon of Torment. As he came upon the entrance he would be greeted by a tall mechanical droid, its eyes deep-set and red as it looked over the Peon.

​

[Peon you are to be processed]

It spoke in a cold, emotionless tone, eyeing the Peon as it awaited him.

TAG: @Darth Tormentum @darthbernael @Sinrebirth (Open a combo with the GMs)

 

**GM Approved**

Name: Zeref Sotanaht

Theme: Loki Theme V2, Cover by Samuel Kim

Age: 34

Species: Arkanian/Dathomirian Zabrak hybrid

Homeworld: Arkania

Appearance: Zeref appears as a pale-skinned Arkanian with shoulder-length grey/white hair and a healthy, muscular build. Like an Arkanian, he bears four clawed digits, but like a Zabrak, he bears cranial horns which poke through his hair. In addition, instead of completely white eyes, he has aquamarine pupils. His ears are slightly pointed, derived from the Sephi ancestry on the Arkanian side. His canines are prominent, characteristic of the Dathomiri, designed for cutting flesh quickly and with great strength. He avoids the traditional Sith black, rather donning grey and white robes, boots, and gloves, and regales himself with some level of finery by means of jewelry (necklaces, amulets, rings, earrings, studs, belts, et cetera).

Height: 6’2”

Weight: 97 kg

Abilities:

• Peon: 6 Tier I abilities
  • Push/Pull
  • Tutaminis
  • Affect Mind
  • Concoction
  • Fear
  • Shock

Languages: Arkanian, Dathomiri, Droidspeak, Galactic Basic, Ancient Sith


Weapons/Tools: An electroblade; a selection of nutrition tabs; a holocommunicator; a signet ring of status


Bio: Zeref was raised on Arkania in the city of Adascopolis during the time of the still-thriving Galactic Republic, supposedly a vat-born hybrid between his “parents’” races. Growing up, he accelerated in both learning and physical training, allowing both “donors” to feel satisfied with their creation. By the time he was 8, around the rise of the First Galactic Empire, he was already capable of making substantial calculations beyond what other children could and was capable of physically contending with larger, tougher opponents due to his tactical thinking.

Through the study of external sources in his spare time, Zeref discovered the ancient histories of numerous cults and religions, most notably the existence of the fabled Sith. He even took the time (brief as it may have been) to master their ancient language. He never had use for the language outside of personal studies, yet nonetheless, he studied it all the same.

His parents, by this time, both worked for the Empire in some way or another, having left Zeref to fend for himself at the family home in Arkania’s capital, working in cloning. Within a few years, he himself was enlisted for one of the Empire’s special cloning projects on Wayland along with a team of numerous other cloners. What transpired there was classified information, so even with his consultation completed, there was little that Zeref was actually made aware of. However, during his brief time on the planet, he felt darkness in its roots and surroundings, something which he had only felt once before near Veeshas Tuwan on Arkania. As Zeref would eventually come to realize, this was the Dark Side calling to him.

He would eventually take time to travel and took a habit of archaeology, though the endeavors proved dangerous. Most sites of interest to him were watched by the Galactic Empire, preventing him from accessing them. As it turns out, he wasn’t the only one attempting to uncover the ancient sites. When attempting to uncover Rakatan ruins on Belsavis, he encountered a hooded figure with a hissing voice, apparently also attempting to uncover the secrets of the tomb, but not willing to risk the infiltration. The two left Belsavis together, traveling instead to Gatalenta, where there was an abundance of privacy and safe places to discuss their mutual interests. The other individual revealed himself to be a scholar and historian for a group of seers, whereas Zeref passed himself off as a lower-ranking citizen of Iridonia. Through a series of mind games, the Arkanian eventually cajoled the man into revealing that he worked for a caste of Sith called the Prophets of the Dark Side. Before he could learn more of them, however, Zeref watched as the man’s neck was snapped, as if by invisible hands.

He, however, was left alive.

Over the next several years, Zeref developed a fascination with the Force, studying whatever texts he could find relating to its nature, use, and users. The Galactic Empire sustained great losses and was eventually overthrown and plunged into ruin by the Rebellion. In the aftermath, Zeref determined that his former affiliations with the Galactic Empire would make him a target for the rising New Republic. Plotting a course for the ancient Sith homeward Korriban, he left Arkania, seeking out refuge and a means to power.

 

The Trials of the Sith
Zeref Sotanaht

Part One: The Desert



​

Korriban was as it had been for a long time. An inhospitable, dark planet. Its mountains, swamps, and deserts giving little room for life. But in this harshness is where true strength was born. It was the perfect homeworld for the Sith in that regard. It was here where Zeref Sotanaht, would find themselves, landing in the almost completely empty desert. It was as if the planet had been calling to him, its darkness drawing the Arkanian-Dathomirian hybrid. A promise of power... of dark enlightenment.

And now after his long journey, his great search he had finally arrived. Stepping off the shuttle there were distant mountains on the horizon and miles of desert in every direction. As they took these first few moments to consider what to do next, a cold, dispassionate voice would speak to them in their mind. It was unintrusive, more as if there was an invisible voice speaking to them than someone actively trying to invade their mind.

"So another arrives on this ancient world... and yet I do not know you. I wonder did a little sheep get lost from its herd or are you wolf that hungers for more?"

TAG: @Zolm_Zeref @Sinrebirth @darthbernael (As Player and GMs) @HanSolo29 @DarthIshyZ @Nehru_Amidala @WookieeRage @PCCViking @Silvertough (Lords to Witness the Peon's progress)

OOC Note: Zolm please open a combo (PM) with myself and the other GMs to respond and we shall go back and forth in that response. If you have questions feel free to PM us.

 

Logos Part II

**Combo with God Emperor Insipid, Lord Azathoth, and Peon Tormentum**

IC: Tormentum
The Arrival

The Titan dismounted the Hound, he slide off its hide and pet its side, looking into its red eye. He felt the heaving of the creature’s breathing. It was soothing.

The Peon then turned to see the Academy. His mind full of memory. He saw his father Saru in the cloud of the past.

“Here you shall rise! Our House will be restored to greatness!”

Tormentum shook the vision off and approached the Droid that towered, and told him he must be processed. The Peon removed his saber hilt offering it for inspection, and he removed his mask, which he droppesd to the ground, his face marred in scars, his eyes aglow like embers and the skin wet with sweat.

“I submit to processing.”

The Sith Droid looked to Kato, the same monotone voice resonating through the humid air.

[Follow]

The droid would walk enter the Academy, making its way through the ailing academy. It would seem empty, devoid of life to the Peon. The faint sensation of an otherworldliness that was difficult to describe. After a moment they came across a series of tubes, and a room that seemed to use to be some kind of checkpoint or holding area.

The droid turned around, speaking once more.

[A sample is required]

There was also a larger droid in the room, stepping towards and beyond Tormentum. As if keeping watch.



The first droid then produced a syringe, seeming joined at its hip as its mechanical fingers flexed, and moved the syringe toward Kato's right arm.



Tormentum took hold of his black sleeve and rolled it up, bearing pale skin to the syringe. Needles did not frighten him, something his father used often on him.

As the Titan Peon waited for the sample to be taken, he began to drift, he saw in his mind’s eye the orb floating droids with needles that hovered over his bed. A test he failed as they jabbed him and released toxins into his body. Saru had told him it was for his own good, that the agent in the serums would make him immune to poisons, a fact that did not console Tormentum as a child purging from his mouth vats of liquid.

The Peon then remembered his mother coming to clean him up, wiping his face and hair clean of the liquid. Her touch was the only kindness he had ever known.

The Sith Droid drew a rather immense amount of blood, it would be a slight wonder why it needed so much. The droid would then hand the vial to the larger droid, who then turned in an opposite direction disappearing in the labyrinthian-like nature of the Sith Academy.

The first droid would then speak again, it's two neutral red eyes taking Kato in.

[Follow]

As the Peon would follow in the quiet, ghostly halls of the Sith Academy the voice of Azathoth spoke up once more.

“So you made it... I wonder how long you will last. If the Sun can reignite its flame.…”

And then silence.

At last, the Peon would be brought to a small room, that seemed to be a small living space for the apprentices of old. There was a bed, a place to wash and bathe once self, the very bare necessities. Sand and debris were caked into every crevice, clinging to the floor, walls, and ceiling. Several cobwebs spun across various patches.

[Clean]

Spoke the droid once more. It was unclear if it was referring to Kato cleaning himself or the room. In either case, it simply turned around and left.

The amount of blood drawn made the Titan’s head dizzy, his legs wanted to rebel, them feeling like gelatin. The Peon kept his composure, not bending to his body’s weakness.

Then came the sudden voice of Lord Azathoth which carries both omen of doom and hope. To which Tormentum gave a nod, conveying agreement with the words of the Moon which had eclipsed him.

Tormentun followed the droid into a wash room where he was told to clean himself. All his robes were like moist leaves clinging to grains, rolled up. He smacked his garments to free some of it, and then began to remove them. There naked as he was born, he took tepid water, and began to pour it over his broken flesh, some of the scars acted like groves of canton, ferrying the liquid to parts of his pale skin. He took a charcoal bar, and began to scrub the grains free. Here at the academy he would be reborn or torn.

“Torn, undoubtedly.”

The voice was a dry chuckle.

A whisper of wind upon his shoulder.

Cold went down his spine.

But when Tormentum looked.

There would be nothing there.

The Peon felt the chill, the bitter cold that had blown in as he bathed. A presence was in it, one that he had sensed before, one so powerful it could take his heart and break him down into bones.

He heard its words in his head “torn” a promise. This word had many meanings, torn from what? His flesh? Torn from his heritage? Or did it mean he was torn as in divided within himself, undecided and uncertain, unproven. Perhaps all of these were true.

The Titan Peon finished washing and scrubbing. He then tended to his sand covered robes and garments, washing them and hanging them to dry as he laid down on the cot to rest, ruminating on what tearing awaited him.

The clothes vanished.

His personal effects too.

His supplies.

Then the sand rose up, and pushed him down the dune. The ground separated, and he would -

Fall.

Tormentum felt the sand rise and then funnel downward, the naked Peon struggled in the sea of grain as it carried him down a drain. The sand suffocated him, filling his mouth and burning the crevices of his thighs and more tender parts. It was like being in a sea of needles, each grain causing him torment.

He tumbled and tumbled and tumbled.

And was dropped to stone.

Cold, hard, stone.

The roof sealed up.

And there was a laugh.

The Titan Peon felt his body smash against the stone, his skeleton throbing and he purged sand that foamed from his mouth upon the cold floor. His throat burning, his muscles aching.

Had he been baptized?

Tormentum laid on the slab for a moment, his frame rising with each breath.

The pain faded.

It turned out that it had been imaginary, the Force had cushioned his fall, but his saviour had left the pain.

“You can suffer for the Sith, but remain a Sith. To commit to the Dark is to be marked for life. Even in death, in pain, in agony, you’re still a Sith.”

The Peon raised his head from the hewn stone, and listened to the Voice. He nodded in agreement with it, and rose to his feet.

“I am Sith. Even broken as I am.”

He was referring to the scars that danced across his face and torso. Marks from his maker, and from others.

“And yet you stand, naked as you were born, or reborn, possessing impatience of purpose.”

The sconces lit the way into the tomb.

“I, the Lord of Lust, will teach you what impatience begets…for I once had it all… and I lost it for my sins.”

A chuckle.

“My lust for power. My master warned me… and so I shall warn you.”

The lights behind him began to go out.

He was being herded.

Tormentum listened to the Voice, the omens it gave settled into his very soul.

“Lust for power. My father tried to instill me with it, and it never took. I always sought power to serve others.. perhaps thats a Jedi sentiment, or I was it Darth Marr’s teachings?”

The lights began to fade behind, and so the Peon went forward.



“Darth Marr was a fool. He believed in the Greater Good of the Empire.”

A ghost of an echo.

The Empire serves the Sith.

His tone was pedantic, as if speaking to a child.

“The Sith serves self.”

A cadence, almost hypnotic.

“Self serves nobody!”



The Peon pressed on and retorted in his mind.

“Cannot the two be reconciled? To serve oneself and to serve the Empire? To love oneself and love the Imperium? Cannot they not feed of each other?”

The Peon the stopped at the sight of being with Ruby skin and golden armor.

“And when that Empire inevitably falls? Or the Order grumbles?”

The Sith Lord - a Sith in species, and title - stepped closer, limned in red; a spirit.

"I found an apprentice to rebuild the Empire; he killed me, and ascended to become Dark Lord, as had I. The Rule of Two was inevitable, after the loss of everything to my lust."

A malevolent chuckle.

"Do you intend to rush to the throne, to the stars of the cosmos? To seize all, and thus nothing?"

He flicked a finger at Tormentum's forehead.

"Or are you a mere cog in the Order, in the Empire?"

He was Naga Sadow.

The Dark Lord who lost an Empire.

Tormentum felt the touch of Sadow, his forehead burned, was it marked?

“An Empire, An Order can all crumble. The Sith are more than ships and academies. Conquest is indeed part of our nature, however, we need something binding, and yet we must evolve, the Sith Code is are commandments, that tells us if we are in The Dark Journey or just pretenders. But its not enough to hold to a creed, we crave more and the Code cannot tell us at what point our chains are really broken, and if The Force has freed us.”

The Titan felt a chill, the lack of cloth around any portion of his body was the culprit.

“If I am a cog, then so be it. I count it worth being one if it means the Darkness will be my mistress. And yet that mistress will not be content to let me laid down and be a cog. I will aim for the stars, though I know like them I may suffer the fate of explosion or implosion. I consider it worth it, compared to the real chains the Jedi wear”

Naga Sadow smirked at the man.

"You speak well, even when bereft of much of what makes you yourself..."

He indicated his general nakedness, in physicality and in spirit.

"You ask what makes a Sith a Sith... my masters, they were Sith, my apprentices, they were Sith."

A chuckle.

"Ku'ar Danar, Simus, Marka Ragnos - the former."

A snort at their indolence's and failings.

"The latter - Shar Dakhan, Saes, Freedon Nadd."

He made a circle in the air.

"My rivals - Ludo Kressh, Tenebrae."

His fist clenched.

"My enemies - the Jedi, the Republic."

He laughed.

"These define me as Sith, by what I am not, but what I am..."

A gesture, sending Tormentous flying into the air, a bolt of lightning meeting him in the sky and blasting him into unconsciousness.

"It is on this journey, we shall see who you truly are."

Those words were the last he heard for the moment.

For a brief moment Tormentum caught the point, what made him what he is was what he wore. Had he relied too much on ceremonial garb and the masks that gave him the mystique he used to make others fear him. Faceless and tall like a titan could terrify most, however, Sadow hinted the infection of his insecurities were beyond physical, and no remedy.

The Naked Titan listened as Sadow covered a list of Sith, and all the while he wondered what deep pool of shadow would wipe clean his inferiority. How was he to plunge to the depths of dark side rather than wade in the shallows with his cape, mask, and warrior’s thirst for conquest. Was he just what he was now, naked and harmless in actuality? Without his trappings and intimidating clothing, could he inspire fear? More than that torment?

Before he could give answer he felt himself rise and then a surge, a spark to the head and all faded black.

He awoke where he had been before, as if the floor had not opened and taken him, as if the pain was imagined and not real.

But his forehead, it did burn with a brand.

That was real.



The Titan rose from the shadow of unconsciousness. He was in the wash room once more. Had any of it been real? Was he really taken in Sadow’s Shadow or was it he slipped on the wet floor and induced some imaginary delusion? Tormentum did feel a searing pain at his forehead, he went to the mirror and peered into the glass and saw a mark. He ran his hand over the shape of it, which induced more pain. What did it mean? Had he been chosen? And if so, for what?

The door to his room opened without being bid.

There stood a man in a cloak.

He gestured.

"Come, come, I have your new armour and attire ready. The spirits have tested you and said that you may proceed, Peon."

There was a grin to his leering, misshapen teeth and slash of a mouth, all that was visible in the gloom.

Tormentum stopped feeling the mark upon his forehead and saw a man with misshapen mouth bid him follow. The Titan took note of the “spirts have tested you,” so it had not been an illusion or dream. The promise of armor and clothing had appeal as he shivered on his unclade flesh shell.

He followed the Man.

“So you're hunting a master on Korriban, I hear," the small man said as he walked. "A Sith impresses a master, or they die. Often and over." A gesture, vague, behind him, at their forehead. "The spirits mark you but disagree often with the Lords. They wean out the weak, but their traditions are merely out foundation, not our present."

A glance over his shoulder. "Do you understand the weakness of yearning for the past?"

The Titan nodded.

“The past is dead, kill it if you have to. My past is painted all over this planet. I have come here in search of more than a master, I have come to bury the coffin I was born in.”

nods along

The Titan took in the Academy architecture, it was humble, practical, perfectly suited to hot head youths trying to wield the dark power. His Father had wanted him to be here above all else, to learn the power of the dark side so as to raise House Ban anew. However, Tormentum had no interest in resurrection a dead house, whose glory had gone the way of Sith Sword after the invention of the Lightsaber.

A tendril of thought made it's way across the peon's mind as Azathoth's voice spoke softly once more.

“So you can hold your own in your convictions...at least seemingly...”

And then the voice was gone, a mere whisper on the wind as the peon continued his journey.

The Peon paused. The thought having penetrated his mind and latching on.

“Conviction. Yes, I am convicted to destroy all memory of my Father’s House.”

A flame began to burn in the Titan’s eyes, his hand making a fist.

“The name of Ban shall be forgotten. There is only Torment.”

TAG: @Sinrebirth
@Shadowsun
@darthbernael

 

Part Three: Pathos
​

In time Tormentum would be brought to his new armor and clothing, branded with the symbol of the Sith. He would have his lightsaber, his weapon as a Sith. What was curious was that this was presented in a large, spacious room. It appeared to be some kind of ancient training space, although like most of the rest of the temple it seemed it had seen little use.

The hooded man retreated out of the way to allow Tormentum to change, he did not return. Tormentum would wait, for what seemed like eons but in reality, was a brief amount of time.

And then the hairs of Kato's back would stand on end as he felt an unmistakable presence.

​

"Well boy, it seems after all these years you came crawling back to the Sith Academy.... back to me," rasped Saru Ban, his cold sith-colored eyes staring intently at the peon.

"Did you realize that this is your destiny? To rebuild the House of Ban? To accept your fate?"

TAG: @Darth Tormentum @Sinrebirth @darthbernael (Combo)

 

IC
Location: 'The Bleaks' mountains, Leritor; Mid Rim.

Illyana took a deep breath, after walking down the ramp of the ship and continued forward, after several paces she stopped, looked behind her and saw her master had vanished

""well Illyana...it's time to prove yourself"

She walked on, heading Northwest as instructed. The rain was coming down heavy now, it was a downpour she had not known and not like the storms from Earth. 'it was a rain worthy of Ororo Munroe' she had thought. She kept on as the rain stung her face like small sharp stones, her hair quickly soaked from its merciless onslaught, she could barely see in front of her, she trips over a rock and fell to her knees, cursing in Russian, she grits her teeth as anger consumed her, she lifted herself to her feet again, and called on her eldritch armour to shield her from the rain, as if by magic she is encased in shining silver armour. She stood proud now, more determined as the rain bounced off of it. Was this cheating? Illyana didn't care, the ends justified the means and she had a job to do. She scanned around again and saw the crashed ship, jagged in between two mountains, it had been a nasty crash alright. Illyana sighed, how was she going to get up there? Easy. Teleportation.

too easy girl, too easy.

Illyana started to climb the jagged rocks, finding it easy at first, even though the rocks were wet and slippery and the rain was hammering down, the armour had seen to that hurdle. Higher and higher she climbed and then, she had lost her footing, she slipped and was now hanging for dear life from a sharp protruding rock, Illyana gasped as she looked up, the crashed Sith ship from long ago was just fifty metres or so above her. She closed her eyes, a 'stepping disc' (a teleportation portal) opened below her, she let herself fall. And fell she did, right into the pool of the opening. A second later she had found herself landing in the cockpit of the crashed ship. She sighed smugly, and wiped her hands and dusted her shoulders before she stepped forward...

@darthbernael (to respond) @Sinrebirth @Shadowsun (GM's of thread with Darth Bernael) @Lady Belligerent @HanSolo29 @Silvertough (Circle Lords to observe)

 

**Combo with Darth Barnael and Illyana Rasputina**

IC: Illyana Rasputina
Crashed Sith Ship, Leritor; Mid Rim

Illyana eyes narrowed as she listened to the voice from the air, she knew it, she had begun to know it well. It was her Master's voice. Darth Bernael. She had first met him at the Sith temple, how fussy he had been about his scrolls she had thought. And now here he was tormenting her, she felt rage within her and she snarled, but she had not the time to challenge him, for she saw in the flash of lightning a dozen or so (Illyana couldn't be sure) of what she thought were crustacean type creatures carrying weapons coming towards the ship. Illyana's grimace turned into a sly smile. She could use this opportunity to show her master her mettle. She called her soulsword which appeared in her hand, a violet flame, she gripped the handle as she made her way to the exit ramp, she punched the door release button on the control and made walked down the ramp

"I am a Sith, I am your reckoning...I am Darth....Varletess"

she inwardly chuckled at the name she had just given herself, yes it was not hers to give, but she liked it all the same.

Bernael could feel his apprentice's anger at his actions and he humored him. That was part of what such training was for, whether she realized that harnessing that hate and directing it elsewhere could serve her in the Force or not was yet to be seen. As her sword appeared in her hand he smiled softly. The Sauvax began to stir as they saw her advance.

Bernael saved in his thoughts, what she chose as her Sith name. It could be discussed later but it had a good ring to it. With a shake of his head he relaxed against the ship, watching the battle about to unfold.

With the woman walking toward them, the flaming sword in her hand, the Sauvax spread out, at first in a hemisphere around her, before closing off the ring as she advanced further. Not a word was spoken but the aura of menace from the crustaceans filled the air.

One of the largest stepped forward, his spear lifting, point dipping toward her. The others began to stomp in an almost hypnotic rhythm. As the speed of the rhythm built the large one Began a lumbering charge directly toward her. At the last instant, he shifted to his right, his spear dipping to thrust into her thigh. Which was when the second, hidden by the noise of the stomping, arrived behind her, swinging the flat of his spear to impact the backs of her thighs.

Illyana screamed a short battle yell as she managed to block the tip of the spear from plunging her thigh, but she could not block the slam to the back of her thighs, she cried out as she is forced to her knees, she lifted her soulsword to defend herself, the flaming blade flailed to keep the 'primitives' back. She stood again, though her legs wobbled. The eldritch armour was good, but it was more effective against magic, she didn't want to find out whether their weapons could penetrate it on this strange world, she was from home, and was beginning to feel it. Using her skill of Telekinesis, she lifted a small rock and threw it at one of her attackers. In the distraction that followed, she grabbed the smallest of them and held the hot blade to its throat.

"throw down your weapons or he dies"

The rhythmic pounding, if anything, became louder, a keening sound as chitin segments rubbed together also filled the air. One of the warriors in the ring, it's chitin more worn, shifted it's spear and then it flashed through the air, gore and pieces of chitin hitting the outer surface of Illyana's armor as the tip of it's spear drove through the smaller one.

That one's body went limp in her arms as the largest spun, the flat of his spear swinging to impact the back of her armor. Two others began charges from opposite side, right at the edge of her field of vision as the one that had hit her in the backs of the thighs came into her field of view, the butt of his spear slamming into the ground as he pranced around her.

Illyana realised that she was outnumbered, what was wrong with her? back on her home world eleven of these creatures of this sort would have been easy pickings, 'Enough Illyana!' her mind shouted, 'send them all to Limbo and just be done with it' but she couldn't. She had to prove herself to her new master, she was beginning to understand now. She wanted to be strong, she wanted to be like other Sith, she was on the ground now, lightning flashed and the rain was coming down harder than ever. She stretched out a hand, and muttered the incantation from the scrolls of Agamotto. At once the Sauvax turned on each other, it was an energy manipulation spell. Two of them speared the other in brutal fashion. Illyana lifted herself from the rocky ground and with her sword of flame sliced the skull of the one nearest to her. It fell with a thud. She looked at the others, her eyes now a deep yellow, her cainine teeth now two sharp fangs.

"I am Dark Chylde. I am your reckoning. I AM SITH."


Surprisingly, for their size, the Sauvax retreated quickly and quietly, at the loss of four of their number, so quickly. They didn't, however, retreat back toward the coastline, but further up the mountainside, staying between Illyana and the wrecked ship. Their coloration, in the pounding rain soon made it difficult for them to be seen, unless they moved quickly.

Bernael smiled softly, a whisper from thin air, "Well done. The artifact still remains, and will soon be yours, I am certain."

Illyana heard her master's voice, and at once her yellowed eyes became the brilliant forget-me-not blue again.

"thank you, my master. The day is coming when all our enemies will feel our wrath. I feel it."

with that she inclined her head and her soul sword disappeared from her hand as did her armour.

she moved forward again and looked up, her eyes narrowed for sign of any movement.


"I shall crush their bones with these very mountains if you wish it master."

Bernael let Illyana sense his approval, "When we leave this place I would be...disappointed...if you had not put the fear of the Sith into the natives." he replied.

Glancing at the skies, "Good training weather, almost reminds me of home. Finish this in a timely fashion and I already know what will be next for you." he said, mysteriously.

Illyana grinned, she had been waiting to be told such a thing.

"They will fear, my master. And their children, and their children's children."

She continued forward again, this time she had no armour, she let the rain pelt her face, it stung her, but it made her angry, it made her focus. She stops, picks up a discarded lance from one of the deceased, and walked on again. She made her way to a narrow path as lightning struck again, she saw them. And was coming for them. One of the native creatures saw her ascending and charged, she plunged the lance hard through the carapace, she kissed his cheek

"this would have been so much easier if you had just wanted to make out instead."

She thrust deep again. Looking into its eyes before pulling the spear to her right, the Sauvax fell from the mountain into the darkness below. Illyana ran her fingers through her soaked hair and away from her eyes and continued, she had spotted two more ahead of her. Before they could react, she used her Telekinetic powers to pull two large boulders from the summit of the mountain on top of them, crushing them. She grinned again as she heard the splatter that ended their existence.

"who's next?"

The remaining Sauvax backed away in fear. But still Illyana advanced upon them. They turned and fled, much to Illyana's disappointment. She had just got started. At last she had made herself to the crashed ship, this time without the use of her natural mutant talent, and headed up the ramp...

@darthbernael @Sinrebirth @Shadowsun (other GM's of the thread) @Lady Belligerent @HanSolo29 @Silvertough (Circle Lords for observation)

 

Illyana walked on cautiously feeling the call of three separate energies. Each one held a different emotion for her, The one in the hold made her want to cry, not just cry but burst into tears. As memories of years in Limbo became flooding back to her. The energy that called to her from the crew quarters was more subdued, it was tempting, but in a peaceful way, as if going to it would grant tranquillity for her, and not just her, but her loved ones too. The third energy was the most powerful though, the source was the bridge area. It offered power, unlimited, untampered power. Illyana knew that was the one for her, she headed towards the bridge when suddenly the ship began to rock from side to side. The creatures were back. Violently Illyana was tossed from one side to the other,

"I think I'm gonna be sick.."

she covered her mouth as she spoke, she is jerked again, losing her footing, she growls in frustration. "I'm gonna end their species if it's the last thing I do..."

Eventually Illyana makes it to the bridge, what she saw before her made her grin, then laugh heartily, "power" she thought.

@darthbernael @Sinrebirth (fellow GM's of the thread) @Lady Belligerent @HanSolo29 @Silvertough (Circle Lords for Observation)

 

Crashed Sith Ship, Bridge, Leritor; Mid Rim

Illyana scowled as she heard her masters almost mocking tone, she grabbed the power supply from the air in frustration and threw it, she lost her footing once again as the Sauvax continued their assault on the ship. "Flying ships is for primitives" she said aloud haughtily, hoping her master had heard her. She had the X-gene she thought, and not just that, she was a sorcerer supreme protégé, and was superior to any in this galaxy, 'mini chlorines' or not. She stumbled as she made her way to the next energy that called to her, knowing she had to be quick, it was the energy from the crew quarters, and as if a fog of anger had lifted, she was at peace, calm, even though she was seconds away from the ship falling to the rocks below.


@darthbernael @Sinrebirth ]@Lady Belligerent @HanSolo29 @Silvertough (circle lords to observe)

 

Crashed Sith Ship, Leritor; Mid Rim

Illyana stepped closer as she peered at the tentacles wrapped around the box, "not gonna give the lady what she wants? where are your manners?" Illyana pouted mockingly and once again called her soul sword to her hand, she charges cutting at the left tentacle. It did nothing. A confused Illyana hacked again and again, barely causing a split in the dark spiny flesh. Illyana cracks her neck* "Alright handsome...you wanna dance, let's dance. Show yourself"

The rubble in the corner of the room shifted. It lifted and fell back as a dark form emerged from under it. The body, mostly flat at first, spread out and up as it emerged. The creature appeared very similar to an octopus, but larger. The beak had a dark glint to it and one dinner plate sized baleful eye burned as it gazed at Illyana. Tentacles surrounded the main body of it and as it slid and humped forward a pair of them shot out, one reaching for her sword, the other for her ankle.

The ship shifted slightly because of the slippery rocks from outside, it caused Illyana to stumble forward, the tentacles grabbed her wrist, the other her ankle and she fell hard with a thud onto her back "uggh" she is pulled forward towards it's waiting beak. "you know it's only polite to buy a girl dinner first before going straight to the dessert" she kicks out at the monster as her body is once again encased in eldritch armour to protect her. With her remaining hand, she used her Telekinesis to throw every available loose object on the ship at it, in the hope that it at least loosened the grip on her wrist or ankle.

The sudden shifting and Illyana's movements caused the tentacle at her wrist to let go, the suckers making popping sounds as they pulled free. As it pulled free, it whipped and pushed against her chest, wrenching her ankle in an awkward angle as it bent her body. A hissing sound came from the beak and the eye shifted, tracking her sword. It surged forward, the body coming closer, the fishy smell getting more intense.

Illyana heaved at the smell and gritted her teeth in pain as her ankle is yanked, but she held on to her sword, now with both hands, she thrust the blade right into it's body, kicking with her foot into it's eye, she was drawn more than ever to the box, and wasn't going to leave without it.

The body folded around the blade, a teakettle shriek coming from the beak as the blade slid through the resistance of the tough skin. The tentacle at her ankle wrenched again, flinging her leg to the side as it writhed in pain. The eyelid snapped shut trapping the toes of her other foot between their thick folds for a moment before the head whipped back. One tentacle detached from the box, hitting Illyana in the side as it whipped back, yanking her arm and hand from the creature's body, pushing her back toward the doorway again.

Illyana yelled Russian expletives at the throbbing pain in her toes, She kicked back again at it. "Alright Squidward...lets end this" She teleported on its back wrestling it, holding on to it. The creature flailed but still Illyana kept holding on, she called her soul sword again and with all her might thrust it deep into it's head, I sure hope this thing has a brain she thought

A tentacle whipped up, dark ichor beginning to drip down the shaft of the sword as it drove deeper. The cephalopod let out another teakettle shriek as the sword punctured its head. Its body began to whip about, spraying the dark blood over every surface. Tentacles flailed in every direction, the ship itself shaking as it moved. Debris flew about the room as it moved and, with a shriek of rending metal the crate ripped free of the floor and wedged in the partially open doorway. The limbs themselves began to move in a bit of coordination, several reaching for Illyana as the rest sought the crate once more.

Illyana held on, she was determined to end this miserable creature's existence once and for all, she dug the blade deeper into its dark flesh and carved downwards, causing a split, green blood sprayed directly into her face. The tentacle wrapped around her wrist, and still Illyana kept on. She thought about those laser swords the Sith carried, and then her thoughts went to her own master. Darth Bernael. I'd like to see him deal with this thing...Illyana imagined him throwing scrolls at it and taking off. Illyana glanced at the box once more. If I can't have that box, neither can

A dark chuckle came from outside the door. A whisper drifted in the air, somehow still audible in the chaos of the struggle. "Scrolls have their uses, just not in battle. And...good thing it's raining outside, you're not dripping that on my ship."

The tentacles began to shudder as the main brain began to slip away, the blade driving deeper. There was a creak and the ship suddenly slipped a couple feet, the body of the creature and Illyana riding its back bounced across the floor, hitting the wall by the crate. The creature shuddered several times before the tentacles and body went limp.

Illyana hit the wall with a thud. She looked over at the dying beast as she heard her master's voice, she again gritted her teeth in frustration. "You are just like my old mentor, Stephen Strange, though...you are far more weird, and at least he didn't try to kill me under the pretence of guidance!" she gets up rubbing her lower back and limps to the box. A tentacle was draped over it, like a motherly arm protecting her young. Illyana grinned "I'll think I'll have that" she kicked the tentacle out of the way with a sweep of her foot and took the box and carried it off the ship, tucked under her arm. As she stepped off the ship she landed waist deep in black muddy water "you got to be kidding me?" she sighed, raised her head to the heavens to wash the blood from her face, and waded through the water.

The side of the ship split, as though along a seam and Bernael appeared, the mask giving away nothing of his features, save his eyes. The wreckage creaked and one of the Sauvax's spears stopped a foot from his back before it went flashing back and through the native's torso. He didn't lift a finger but suddenly there were shrieks as the natives found themselves thrown across the mountain. He landed on the higher ground beyond her. "Once onboard you can see your prize. And I didn't put you against a foe you couldn't handle, did I?" the sense of an arched eyebrow accompanied the question.

Illyana stood before him, soaked from head to toe. "come to think of it, it was a piece of cake" She shrugged cockily. "A cake in case you were wondering is a sweet, often eaten as a dessert" she walked past him with attitude. She stopped briefly and smiled, proudly. She didn't want to admit it, but she actually liked that her new master was seemingly impressed with her and walked back onto his ship, wondering what prize was waiting.

Bernael chuckled and boarded the ship, the hatch closing behind them. He led Illyana into the main lounge, the crate set on the floor by the holotable. He touched the top, concentrating for a moment before the lock clicked and opened. Inside were a pair of bracers, as long as Illyana's forearms. "The Bracers of Najus. They're what have been drawing darksiders to this planet for many years. Their special property is that when one attackers a lightsider they greatly increase the power of one's attacks."



"Congratulations, my apprentice, that was well done. I'll leave you to get acquainted with them while I take us home. You have done well on your first real adventure outside the Temple." With that, Bernael turned and headed to the bridge.

Illyana gazed at the bracers in awe, "thank you my master" she fitted them to her arms, and laughed heartily, "power, ever-increasing power!" she levitated around three feet above the ship's floor "our enemies will bow to us...or perish!"

TAGS: @Dandelo @Sinrebirth, @Lady Belligerent @HanSolo29 @Silvertough (Circle Lords for observation)

 

Enroute to the Sith Temple

Illyana watched intently at the...magic he just performed. The force is intriguing, she decided. Perhaps she wasn't there to discover the secrets of that particular holocron at all.

*she bowed her head, eyes closed* "yes master"

She opened her eyes again and did as instructed and headed towards the medbay. And healed her ankle in the tank as they headed back to the old temple.

TAGS: @darthbernael @Sinrebirth @Lady Belligerent @HanSolo29 @Silvertough (Circle Lords for observation)

 

Enroute to Anzat

Illyana Rasputina:


*Illyana, newly attired and ready for her next mission observed the planet a moment, "no" she answered with frank honesty. She turned to him, with a slight smile. But her eyes told a different story, there was a tint of sadness and of pain. "though meeting Vampires seems like my idea of a good time"

she settled in a seat beside him, thinking of what is to come.

Tags: @darthbernael @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29 @Lady Belligerent @Silvertough (circle lords for observation)