Star Wars Trials of the Sith

OOC: Combo with the illustrious GMs

IC: Tobbi, Lord Manticore, The guide

Location: The ‘Overseer’s Office, Second Level, Sith Academy Ruins, Korriban


Tobbi focused all of his being into the emerald saber, it screamed and whirred in his hands. The electrical matrix that housed the Illum crystal within his weapon started to give way to the power of darkness. This defiling of the crystal's purity resulted in violent violet energies being released outside the cylindrical saber.

"YES YES!!!! OBEY ME!!!!!"

The Saber short-circuited, the energy

"What? No no no what happened!!!!?"

Tobbi shook the saber as hard as he could shouting obscenities at the defective weapon.

"Dank Ferrik!! Son of a hutt, Dosh Darnit!!"

As if responding to his will the Saber finally turned back on but it was an awkward color. It wasn't green anymore but it definitely wasn't red. It was reddish but not it wasn't fully there.



The peon was distracted, albeit, for a very good reason. He’d almost bent the rebellious crystal to his will in a single pass. It was both impressive and unheard of. Not to mention, perhaps he needed some ‘encouragement’.

With a controlled motion, Manticore batted aside the transitioning saber, just enough for it to swing wide, but not to disarm. Before a word could be spoken or any action taken, he was already stepping on Tobbi’s wounded foot and pressing down on it - hard.

“I said..POUR YOUR WILL INTO IT, PEON!!”

A good measure of anguish was always good fuel for the Darkside.

Tobbi slowly looked down at his wounded foot, as he looked down he realized that the Zabrak had further pressed the Tuk'ata horn that was already lodged in his foot further. Tobbi had actually forgotten that it was there, for a while he didn't feel pain, the Darkside fueled, it gave him the ability to focus beyond the pain. However, this focus had left him in his panic as a Sith was at their strongest when they were controlling their emotions and not the inverse. Tobbi looked straight at the Zabrak, the Sith Lord could see the anger, and pain slowly builds in his subconscious. But there was a new feeling.

HATE.

Tobbi gripped the lightsaber so hard he could feel the metal bending around his fist, but he never took his eyes off of the Zabrak.

The lightsaber flared in his hands, the violent energies resumed in response to the dark energies flowing through Tobbi. The peon didn't care that he achieved his goals, he drank in the new emotion that poured through him.

HATE.

Tobbi never knew it could be so easy, he never realized that the power of hate could give him greater focus, greater determination, greater...power.

Finally, the energies subsided, its requirements satiated, its light was chaotic and unstable but most importantly it was blood red, a sign of Tobbi's achievement and immersion into the Darkside.




Manticore's gaze seemed to flare as Tobbi broke through his current limitation, shedding weakness for strength, just as a true sith should.

"Now, peon. Face me and PROVE yourself or be cut down where you stand."

The Zabrak spoke true, even as his own vermillion weapon was thrust forward in a single move, one that would impale the peon's beating heart.

Tobbi never took his eyes off the Zabrak, even as he parried the Sith lord's thrust with great strength. After the counter, Tobbi raised his off-hand to summon a force blast elevated by the power of hate... No, by the power of the Darkside.

The force blast was enough to cause Manticore to take a single step back, his robes flaring behind him as a result. Tobbi had telegraphed his intention by raising a hand, giving the Zabrak an opportunity to successfully brace himself against the attack. The Battlemaster contained a smirk, as he made a simple gesture, which dragged a piece of fallen scaffolding in the peon's direction. He had every intention of pinning him down on the spot, lest he could think of a quick solution to escape his fate.

Tobbi didn't even need to look up, his attunement to the Darkside was complete, he simply threw his lightsaber above him to cut the piece of scaffolding in two, and let the parts fall around him.

"I hope you didn't think that would stop me, my lord."

Tobbi reached his hand up easily catching the returning lightsaber back in the grip of his palm while throwing another force blast in the Zabrak's direction.

Manticore only smirked in return, for he was basking in Tobbi's dark transformation. The peon had just broken through the initial threshold that held him back but now needed to refocus on the battle.

Attacking the Zabrak sith lord with the same attack twice in a row, was more often than not, a grave mistake. Manticore didn't even gesture as a force barrier was erected to diffuse Tobbi's force blast into a harmless wisp. While the peon reached for his returning lightsaber, Manticore redirected the cut pieces of scaffolding to slam into Tobbi's flank.

He needed to push the peon just a bit more. Power alone a sith did not make.

"Is that all you've got, peon?" He rasped darkly, regaining the step he had lost, then taking another.

Two and a half minutes had elapsed and the peon was not yet dead, but that could still change.

The insult triggered another awakening that Tobbi had felt earlier against the Tuk'ata but subsequently reawakened in his full immersion of the Darkside. This enlightened state caused Tobbi to smile in such a wicked and disturbing fashion. It wasn't joy nor glee it was much much more perverse than that.

"Far from it!"



The Peon observed the Sith lord's force barrier, realizing that he needed to be more creative if he wished to breach the Sith lord's defenses.

Sensing the impeding projectiles, Tobbi channeled the Darkside of the force into his mind. From there he began to process things faster, this, in turn, let him command his muscles to contract and release faster making him move at superhuman speeds.

Using this ability Tobbi dodged the rubble coming at his flank. Using the momentum of force speed the peon charged at the Zabrak, his lightsaber a blur of scarlet afterimages.

Lord Manticore took it all in. The peon, immersing himself, giving into the power of the Darkside and in doing so, tapping into his potential. His speed had increased, his reflexes had sharpened. Pain was merely a concept. This was the making of a sith warrior.

And thus, Manticore met Tobbi's charge with his own, changing the point of contact to one of his choosing. Their two lightsaber blades clashed one against the other, forming an 'X' as a saber-lock was created. The Zabrak Sith Lord on one side and the peon...no, Tobbi on the other. Vermillion met Red's advanced, crashing in sparks born out of conflict, that which only made a sith stronger.

"Show me!" Manticore demanded, even as he slowly began to add pressure to their lock.

Three minutes, and counting.

The impact of the collision shook the room, the strength of two warriors molded by the Darkside emitted such malice and passion! Tobbi felt this beacon of darkness and it excited him much more. The pressure added by the Sith Zabrak had not gone unnoticed but it mattered little to Tobbi. All he wanted was more, more combat!

With one smooth transition, he bound their lightsabers together and threw a chop aimed for the Sith lord's neck, seeking to make the alien's throat collapse.

"Tch."

Tobbi sucked his teeth in frustration but it was cut off abruptly by his maniacal laughter, the joy of combat permeated Tobbi's lungs.

"What fun! What fun!!!!"

Tobbi was being driven back by the Dark master's twin sword barrages, even having a narrow encounter with the chopping blow that the Zabrak intended to decapitate him with, however, Tobbi's own honed reflexes blocked the attack. Tobbi surveyed the room and eyed the desk that was behind the Zabrak. Utilizing a yanking motion, the peon sent it hurtling towards the Sith lord's back.

Finally, the peon was beginning to understand that which was left unspoken.

Tobbi's reflexes did him credit as did the training he already had. The peon mounted an adequate defense, meeting Manticore's speed of attack, thanks to his deep immersion into the darkside of the force. The staccato of clashing sabers emitted a strobe of flashes that lit the chamber as they battled. Once again, the Battlemasters exceptional combat senses came into play. The zabrak captured Tobbi's saber in both of his with an X-block, all the while timing the event. He applied pressure, but never released his hold as he simply flipped over Tobbi while still maintaining contact, doing so just a split second before the careening desk impacted against his back. Did Tobbi have enough control to avert being slammed by his own projectile?

What fun indeed.

As the battle-master flipped over Tobbi while maintaining the binding blade-lock, only one thing permeated his mind, joy. This was odd considering the predicament that the peon had found himself in but Tobbi had given his soul to the Darkside, his spirit now inconquerable and calm no matter the circumstance.

Tobbi simply outstretched his free hand and clenched it tightly pulling on the dark energies of the force and swung it back towards the careening metal desk, stopping it in its tracks. His fist impacting the desk, causing a crater of shrapnel to fly in the Zabrak's direction due to its forward momentum but the impact left Tobbi's hand a bit bloody and bruised to which the peon didn't mind as he licked the blood dripping down his hand, "Pain only makes me stronger."

The flying shrapnel moved at blurring speeds, then came to a stop mere inches from the Zabrak Sith Lord, who now, smirked openly at Tobbi.

"Yes...." He agreed, still holding the saber lock, the shrapnel struggling to reach him, yet remaining in place.

"...and you, peon, will become stronger still, or die. That is a promise."

If Tobbi thought he felt pressure before, he would find he was in grave error, as Manticore began to push downward and simultaneously close the scissored 'X' his sabers were forming. What's more, the rain of shrapnel he captured, he'd began to push back at Tobbi.

Which would the peon pick? Saber burns to his neck, or being riddled with shrapnel of his own design? Was there a third choice?

There was one last criteria Manticore needed answered and from all he had learned so far, he was confident he would get a desirable response.

Tobbi sneered, the challenges seemed insurmountable at first but the Darkside was the pathway to many outcomes that many considered impossible. To be a true Sith, Tobbi knew he couldn't be some mindless brute, he had to be calm, calculating, and creative while enjoying the thrill of battle. The peon once again drew on the Darkside energies to increase the processing of his mind in order to command his muscles with incredible speed.

Tobbi disengaged the lightsaber to not only weave around the shrapnel flying back towards him but also dive under the x shaped blade lock that the Zabrak had hoped would trap Tobbi, forcing him to chose between two choices. But the peon rejected the Dark Lord's reality and inserted his own, one where he SURVIVES!

This willpower and creativity allowed Tobbi to slither under the Zabrak's trap and poise himself with his lightsaber fully activated now in the Sith Lord's blindspot. This brought such delight and glee to the peon, he will show the world that he was worthy, that he is Sith material, in this moment he imagined all the power, all the respect he would command!!

The Darkside was at its apex at this moment for Tobbi, this is what he wanted for so long. COMBAT, SUCCESS, RECOGNITION!!! EVERYTHING WAS POSSIBLE THROUGH THE DARKSIDE!!

Tobbi swung his blade ready to take the Zabrak's head as his trophy.

Manticore smiled, this should have been an indication. Tobbi would likely recognize it much later, thought it was something very rare, indeed.

The peon's lightsaber blade was swung, unimpeded, as did the spike in the darkside. Tobbi swung his red blade, which cut across Manticore's neck. It should have decapitated him, but it did not, for such was the power of the darkside- the unbridled power of the Force. Indeed, the darkside was at its apex. Tobbi had not given up, not at all. He had persevered, he'd defied the options presented and found a way when there seemed to be no other choice. A sith warrior did not relent, he did not give up. He found a way to achieve victory despite the odds.

He'd preformed well, very well.

Indeed. The peon was noticed. He had the potential to learn the dark secrets of the Force. He had taken his first fateful step and was found ]worthy.

"You win." Manticore declared. There was not a singe or a single scratch on his skin. In that same instant, he struck the peon's temples with the butt of his lightsabers, knocking him out -albeit temporarily.

This encounter was never about superiority, for that was never in question. Sith only trained the best candidates, so the issue was that of quality, of worthiness. Manticore had seen all that he needed from this peon, one who was possessed of a 'warrior spirit'. Every master understood that an essential 'core essence' was required prior to training. This was a critical portion of the building blocks that could not be 'trained', only possessed, unlike the body or the mind. Tobbi had it.

"He is worthy."

The Sith Lord announced to his 'audience', thereby conferring his approval of the peon.

Manticore nodded slowly as he awaited for the 'host' to join him on the floor and for Tobbi to awaken.

Darkness, that was all Tobbi saw, one moment he had the Zabrak right where he wanted him but now all he felt was the cold. Am I dead? Tobbi mused to himself, unsure if this was the afterlife or the dreamscape.

However, the answer would finally reveal itself as Tobbi felt the dust particles tickle his nostrils forcing him to sneeze, as he did his eyes awakened. As the peon sat up the first thing he noticed his head, it was throbbing in pain. But Tobbi saw it, his prize, he picked up the lightsaber he claimed and examined it.

So this is the prize, amazing.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 @darthbernael (As GM’s) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough)

 

OOC: Combo with the illustrious GMs

IC: Tobbi, Lord Manticore, The guide

Location: The ‘Overseer’s Office, Second Level, Sith Academy Ruins, Korriban

Tobbi felt the gaze that poured into his mind. The answer was obvious to him, the true prize was his deep immersion in the Darkside, which allowed him to prove his worth. The Darkside was his prize, he merely held his lightsaber as a representation of everything that he had achieved, a trophy of sorts. The respect that he earned despite him having a long way to go before he could ever think to rival the skill of the Zabrak lord, the pride he felt filled his heart as he found himself and his purpose.

“Well met, peon."

Manticore declared after sensing the enlightenment of realization taking place in the peon. The Zabrak Sith Lord allowed himself to bask in the sensation of victory with Tobbi, but not for too long, lest he becomes fooled and deceived by such trappings. Too much pride was both a trap and an exploitable weakness. Still, he could feel it. The peon fully grasped that which he was attempting to teach, that which was best learned through discovery and could not be conveyed through mere words.

The Force was Freedom and the Darkside its Power.

"Your journey is not at an end, far from it in fact. But you have now grasped that which you need to see you through the end, and by doing so, have earned your token of passage."

This time, Manticore gave the peon an unmistakable nod of satisfaction and approval, for he had earned his respect.

"That which you seek is under the pedestal." The Zabrak said as he gestured towards the very table the lightsaber hilt had been on.

"You have already claimed the true prize, now retrieve the token you have earned, and move to the next phase."

Here, he offered a solid nod to ‘The Guide’.

The Zabrak Battle Lord stepped to one side, ceding ground. His weapons were no longer in sight and his demeanor was peaceable for the moment. A calm in the storm of continuous conflict was also a reward for a battle well fought.

Tobbi had felt this moment was earned but he did not let it go to his head, there was a very real reminder that the Battle Lord and everyone else in the room could crush him in an instant. So Tobbi bowed before the Zabrak and made his way to the desk, he examined it and located the pedestal. Immediately looking under it, from there he located the Token but he wasn't quite sure what exactly he was staring at. Tobbi grabbed the token and studied it inquisitively.



Manticore allowed a moment to pass as the peon looked over the small bronze medallion.

"That is the token of the warrior, it is 'Asha' and it represents Victory. We warriors are both the spear and the shield of the Order. You will present it to me once you begin your warrior training, and receive the upgraded token after your basic training is complete." Manticore explained in brief.

To say it had been a long time since anyone had earned the last token would be an understatement.

Tobbi put the token in his pouch and bowed before the Zabrak lord, such a token must not have been given out easily, and here was the Zabrak lord giving it to him, entrusting him with it.

"You honor me, my lord. May I have the honor of learning your name?"

The Zabrak observed the peon, regarding him with a look that seemed to go through the being.

"You have earned that much." He said, quite definitively. "Therefore, I propose a trade. I am Darth Manticore, Sith Lord. Even though you have many more challenges ahead, you have impressed me. Speak your name so that I may know it."

Tobbi's eye shone brightly at the Sith Lord's proposal.
"Thank you for your generosity Darth Manticore, my name is Tobbi Airskipper and I wish that I could attain your level of skill one day."
Tobbi looked around the room and mused what lied ahead after this?

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 @darthbernael (As GM’s) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough)

 

Location: The ‘Overseer’s Office, Second Level, Sith Academy Ruins, Korriban

IC: Tobbi Airskipper

Tobbi watched as the guide disappeared into the shadows and mused upon his words, you must find and exit the Academy through the entrance that leads to the Valley of the Dark Lords.


The Valley of the Dark Lords? Tobbi has never heard of a place like this before, he's only read manuscripts where it was offhandedly mentioned. But it apparently was the burial grounds for various Darths and Lords that lived over the many thousands of years that the Sith philosophy and species has existed for.


Such collection of Darkside energies should be detectable, especially since Tobbi was now fully immersed within the Darkside. However, this task could be difficult seeing as this planet is the epitome of a Darkside nexus. Still, Tobbi bet he could tune into the Darkside frequency of the Valley and follow its trail, finding the secret entrance in the process.


Enacting his plan Tobbi sat on the floor and meditated, becoming a conduit of the Darkside, the peon kept repeating these words, “Show me, guide me, instruct me. Show me, guide me, instruct me.” The frequency came naturally to Tobbi, the aura of the Valley was just so overwhelming. Tobbi kept hearing whispers buzz in his ears repeating the mantra Midwan over and over. The peon had no idea what those words meant but he let the currents of the Darkside carry his body closer and closer to the frequency.


The Darkside guided Tobbi to the main hallway of the 2nd floor where he heard the flappings of a swarm of Shyracks. Tobbi counted each individual pest, coming away with a baker’s dozen at the very least. Instinctively Tobbi’s hands hovered over his lightsaber but the Darkside still made his body move. Despite his hands hovering over his weapon, the Peon moved with the confidence of a true Darksider to which the avian-like insects seemed to respect.


The Shyrack swarm avoided Tobbi entirely, opting to part for him like the red sea. Tobbi paid the insects no mind, but he couldn’t help but notice one particular Shyrack. It slowly bounced its head up and down in a vertical motion as if it was giving him a nod.


Tobbi followed the frequency until he encountered something that would ordinarily go unnoticed if it wasn’t for his attunement, a wall. But it wasn’t just any wall, there were three bottles of ancient wine being held up by different alcohol racks. This seemed out of place to Tobbi so he grabbed the wines off of its holders and tried to arrange them in a different order to see if anything would happen.


Nothing. Tobbi was stumped, he had tried every combination that he could think of but nothing was working. The peon was sure that this specific wall was hiding something, the frequency had pointed him there.


Midwan, Midwan, Midwan, Midwan, Midwan. The voices just kept chattering in his head, over and over and over again. Tobbi just wanted the noise to stop, it was getting really annoying. Tobbi almost blocked the chanting out of his head again until he realized the solution to this puzzle.


Tobbi placed his hand on the wall and chanted, “Midwan, Midwan, Midwan, Midwan, Midwan.” The wall swung open, revealing a dark tunnel lit by indigo flames...





TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 @darthbernael (As GM’s) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough)

 

Claiomh’s mind suddenly stops obsessing over the cryptic message from the hologram.

She pauses as the sounds of thumps occur behind and in front of her. Preparing herself, she sees the first beast emerge from the darkness. It vaguely resembled a varactyl. She could feel there were several of them; drawing both her blades the Sith stands her ground but reaches out in the Darkside to gain any information about the creatures.



A series of hisses and barking coughs sounded among the four creatures. And then they seemed to vanish from sight and sense. All that was left was the clicking of their claws on the stone and a dusty sound as their hides moved against their legs. Whether she could see or sense them, it was obvious they were hunting her. Even as she prepared there was the feeling that the darkness was deepening, that there was no way she would beat these creatures.

A moment later two of them burst from concealment, One bounding from a mound of stone, mouth gaping, teeth dripping as they reached for her shoulder, claws extended. The other came low, mouth likewise open, seeking to close around her calves and rip them to shreds. They came from opposite directions, and when, if, they hit the force of the contact would flip her in the air, easy prey for any creature still coming for her. 

Her weight shifts to her back leg as she could sense they were still hunting her. A moment later they burst out of the dark. One attacking high, the other attacking low.

As their shinny bodies launched for her she springs.

A force assisted leap sends her between the creatures through the void they created by going high, and low. As she flies, the vibroblades come to life and she attempts to slice into both of them as she somersaults. As the electrosabers impacted the force of the one in her lower hand, with the angle causing it to be slightly weaker of a strike, simply spun the hssiss in the air. The top one folded around the blade as it impacted, but was pushed away rather than sliced through. Both creatures shrieked like teakettles at the impact and the lower one raised a paw, slicing talons through dangling armor, shredding the side of one leg of her pants.

But what was worse was that one talon made it through the cloth, cutting open a shallow gash on her thigh. That alone made her wince but the poisons in the claws began to leach into her body, spreading from the initial cut. She did not scream or cringe but attempted to retract her legs away from further damage. The whole of her focus on winning.

For a brief moment she felt a strange sensation, a burning numbness that made her eyes widen, but she did not falter from her focus. She knew she was poisoned, but didn’t have time to obsess about it. A moment later she felt the wall slam into her as if it had been traveling of its own accord. The initial flash of pain was muted by the jaws of a hississ around her helmet. The sounds of its teeth on the metal was fuzzy and oddly drifting as she gasped for air. She could feel the lack of one blade which had fallen and the other still active in her other hand.

She could hear more hississ approaching and this had the effect of rapidly clearing her mind with a sudden, deep, gasp.

Claiomh needed to get the hississ off her and fighting them was not going to work. Her attempt to control the lead animal’s mind also did not work which left one more possibility. Reaching into the Force she reaches out to any Sith, living or sprits, that may have control over the animals.

“I’m not here to take what little remains. I’m here to keep the flame burning.”

A dry, higher register chuckle sounded as the jaws on her helmet ceased biting and just held her. The hssiss turned, her head still locked in its grip until she faced into the corridor. A deep red light began to build from a point overhead. “Keep the flame burning, child? I feel a flicker, like that of a match, nothing compared to those whose flames roared and built this place.” a high voice stated as a figure came into view.



With the cloak covering it it was hard to tell if the spirit, limned in blue, was male or female although the voice suggested female. Around it the two hssiss that had first confronted her paced, their tongues snaking out and tasting the air as each always kept one eye on Claiomh. A fourth, almost twice the size of the others stood by the figure’s side, as though a pet of the spirit.

“You have come to our world, voluntarily or not, a supposed Sith. Why should I not let my pets have their way with you?” it asked, the sheer power and malice of it an almost physical wave pressing against her physically. She braces herself as of it were a blast of ice ridden wind.

As the laugh sounds in her helmet she thinks ‘Glad you find me entertaining’ as her head is turned by the Hssiss jaws towards the corridor.

She sees a deep red light began to build from a point overhead. The voice continues “Keep the flame burning, child? I feel a flicker, like that of a match, nothing compared to those whose flames roared and built this place.”

Claiomh’s eyes roll upward as a figure begins to coalesce above her. It’s cloak covered most of the sprit, lined in blue, and Claiomh blinks as a feminine voice came forth from the sprit.

“Yes, “ Claiomh answers, “the Sith who built this place had a raging flame. A flame that is now one breath away from being snuffed out. Look...” she attempts to wave her arm. “This place is memory now...You see my fire as a quivering match. But it burns nonetheless. Call your pets off so that I may ignite that fire once again.”

She shifts uncomfortably. “I am more than half numb from the poison of the Hssiss so if you happen to have a cure I would be most appreciative.”

Her demeanor suddenly changes, “If you decide to let your pets kill me or allow me to die, let it be known by this place, it was your breath - not mine, to snuff what remains a little more. My flame, however small and flickering, is intended to relight the fire of the Sith.”

The larger hssiss let out a deep rumbling sound at the snark in the Peon’s voice. The spirit, the color limning it, shifted from blue to red, laid a hand on the head of the creature, it’s teakettle hissing sound slowly dying off. The other two still pacing sped up slightly, their tails whipping back and forth. The one holding her, the jaws closed slightly, the helmet creaking under the power of them.

Another laugh, “Of course, should you die, it will serve my purpose that you do so. That is the nature of power and those who hold it.”

The spirit moved forward, both seeming to walk the distance and just float it. Its eyes roamed Claiomh’s form, “Hmmm, the poison, no I think not. I am no healer, not as such, but I am intrigued as to see what effect my pets venom will have on you.”

The head of the figure tilted to the side for a moment, a smile flashing across the lips, before it’s eyes, turning more and more red by the moment, looked back at Claiomh, “You say you will keep the flame lit, but it seems there are more than one of you here, and one has already faced, seems to have impressed our descendants so I would require a better, less arrogant reason, to not let the crush continue.”

“Arrogant!” Claiomh retorted as the helmet creaked. “Do you think killing me will satiate your need for power? What sense of power is that? I clearly do not have the skills or abilities, yet, to face you or your pets.”

She squirms under the weight of the hississ. “What I said was the truth. And as for the other who has already came through here, did that person have the spine to stand up to you or just grovel? Are you the sprit of a Sith or a cutthroat?” She really started squirming now.

“Your pets poison will kill me eventually,” she said matter-of-factly. “And if you think I’m annoying now, wait until I too am a spirit.”

Her mood changes to one of thoughtful awareness. “I wonder if that’s the real reason why this Academy fell. The Sith changed from training leaders and inspiring courage to training slaves and subservience.”

Squirming hard once again “Do you think they built this Academy for that?”

The spirit threw back her head and laughed, not the musical laugh from the first time but a harsh sound, as the temperature dropped in the corridor. Head dropping forward once more she gazed upon the Peon. “I do not have time to face every Peon that exists. And there are more souls here that you may consider.”

She stroked the hssiss next to her, whose back had arched, it’s spines rattling as Claiomh spoke. “You have spirit, Peon, I will not deny that but, in your musings you forget a basic tenet of things, that you must crawl before you walk.”

She gestured and the hssiss holding Claiomh by the helmet released but she didn’t drop, instead she rose into the air, floating toward the woman, realizing the spirit that floated before her was huge.

Being removed from the jaws of the creature was a sort of relief. But she soon found herself gazing into the eyes of the sprit. This caught her attention and for the first time since her arrival she felt something. It wasn’t fear, not exactly.

Syn continues “Every Sith that has existed began as a Peon, not every one rose to be a Lord, but each knew that one must play the game to reach the heights, show the ‘obedience’ to the laws of the Sith while plotting their own advancement.”

Claiomh floated closer until she was directly before those blazing red eyes, “They did not make snark to a Dark Lord, especially one that overcame death and returned as an even more powerful spirit, and especially not to the one who wrote the Sith Code.” she finished with a hiss that seemed to match that of the creatures around her.

Claiomh now new want it was. Not fear, but more like looking into they eyes of someone who had no equal. And as such no challenges left. In that moment Claiomh wasn’t sure if she felt envy, or a strange sort of relief that out of all her problems having everything wasn’t one of them.

As Syn had spoken, one hand had moved under the helmet, one finger sliding through the metal of if, the nail elongating and piercing the underside of Claiomh’s mouth, the tip grating against the underside of her tongue. An electric sensation began to fill her mouth, making her realize the spirit was very close to loosing electricity inside her body.

“Now, peon, shall we begin again and you follow the unwritten as well as the written rules?” she asked in a dark whisper before her finger flicked, throwing Claiomh backward against the wall once more.

As the spirit’s nail pierced the underside of her tongue Claiomh felt oddly numb from the poison and as such didn’t feel much. When the electricity began to course from that finger into her skull, it had the effect of bringing at least some sensation back. That was her momentary thought as she found herself sailing through the air in the next moment, and the expected near loss of consciousness as she hit the wall in the following moment.

She slid down the wall and ended up on the floor in an unorganized heap.

Claiomh fought off the darkness that threatened to take the last of her consciousness. She didn’t think she had the ability to speak anymore so sent her thought to the sprit.

“Darth Syn,” she managed to get out between the washes of darkness. “It is a deep honor to met you. I would take to a knee, but sadly I cannot move well anymore. I would have earlier as well - but - you see, I was already on the ground.”

She tried to move and felt some strength begin to return to her from a source deep within herself.

“The Sith code. A complete work of brilliance. I was sent here to find something, but they did not tell me what. A treasure I suppose. But finding the one who wrote the code, that treasure can only be surpassed by one thing.”

The spirit chuckled, eyes turning a deep red, “The code has been used or twisted to a particular Sith’s ends over the eons. But it survives and is a treasure indeed. But no it is not that which you seek. I can see your soul and know that there is something beyond here that you would seek.”

She laughed again, the hssiss stalking closer to the prostrate Peon, “But you still do not see, think about things in the correct order. That which you seek is beyond your abilities as of yet, one must show they are capable of being rewarded before rewards could be bestowed. And laying on the floor of a dilapidated Academy, dying of a poison isn’t going to show that one can be taught, be raised beyond one’s current level.”

A faint noise sounded causing the spirit to turn, a shape becoming visible just beyond her, the Guide, appearing as out of nowhere, “What in the Nine Hells is taking...pardon Lord,” bowing to the spirit deeply, “I see you have things well in hand.”

Syn gazed deeply into the cloak’s cowl, “Is the other faring better than this specimen? Did Kallig approve of his actions?”

Claiomh listens to the Sith sprit but doesn’t say anything. Her attempts to be what she is expected to be....to say what is expected to say... did not turn out well. Her legs stretch, and she begins to attempt to unravel herself. The disapproval of the sprit, Darth Syn, or otherwise was not going to stop her. She began to crawl.

The Guide nodded, “He is...facing the Necropolis now, but has proceeded well, to date.”

A small smile came over Syn’s face, “You and the others do the Sith an honor by bringing your Peons here to be tested, it has been too long since we could influence the Dark.”

As the sprit chats with the guide, Claiomh continues to crawl “farkimg, fark, fark,” she swears under her breath. The bent helm was beginning to bother her nearly as much as the poison.

"The honor is ours,” the Guide said, gazing at Claiomh laying on the floor of the tunnel, “but I believe you have this well in hand, Lord. I will leave this in your care, for your judgement as to whether it should be used or not.” A vial floated from a pocket inside the cloak, settling on the mound upon which the spirit stood, next to the adult hssiss. And then the Guide disappeared once more.

The two continue to talk, and Claiomh continues to crawl. Until she feels one of them turn their head. She froze. It was the Guide, and he was looking at her.

Turning her head back to the Peon, “Have you expired already?” Syn asked, a malicious humor in the words.

Claiomh’s eyes shift in her helm as a vial floats and rests upon the mound where the sprit stands. She doesn’t say anything. Instead she strikes her head upon the floor on a part of the helm that bowed outward from the hississ jaws.

Wack! Wack! Wack!

The helm bends enough relieving the pressure from being partly crushed. She slips it off and takes in a full, gaspy breath, “Yes, my lord,” she manages to speak as she rolls her eyes upward to see the sprit without the helm.

Syn chuckled, “You are expired? Then I have a new subject for my researches….Oh you mean you are not?” she teased the peon. The vial lifted, seeming to settle into her palm. The fluid inside was slightly iridescent. “The one who gave me this I trust their ability in alchemy and it says much that I do. But I doubt that he intends a peon who receives it to fully recover, he is quite a dark one. But let us see.”

As Syn teases her, Claiomh tilts her head to the side. At least the bent helm wasn’t bothering her anymore, but the words of the Darth Lord did. She clenched her jaws and used her anger. Turning it inward and attempts to use her own inner fire to combat the poison, somehow, someway.

The adult hssiss let out another teakettle screech and the two that had been closing, about to latch their jaws on her ankles, paused in their stalk, settling on their haunches. Amusement filled the space. The fourth hssiss moved up to the opposite side of Syn, settling onto its belly on the mound as it gazed at Claiomh.

Claiomh watched as the fourth hssiss moved to the other side of Syn, and met her gaze with one of its own as it settled onto its belly.
She didn’t have much time to react as Syn bent down, looking at her. She returned the gaze, unencumbered still. Fear of course was behind her eyes - but even now - courage and will were stronger. Almost like two siblings wrestling and gaging a third, screaming one, less it reveals itself.

Syn’s spirit bent down, looking at the peon. “You have not defeated my children so we shall see if you face them again. But you have shown just enough spirit to not die from the poison.” She held out the vial, close to Claiomh’s face, “Take it, before I change my mind and the Guide needs to find another Peon to test.”

Syn speaks and draws Claiomh’s attention. Her eyes latch onto one thing and one thing only.

The vial.

Between the battle, the poison, and Claiomh being Claiomh....as Syn spoke her ears heard the sprits words but her mind was focused on one thing.

After Syn offers her the vial, Claiomh’s eyes rise to met the sprits for the briefest of moments. Her hand flashes out and seizes the vile like a feral beast. In one smooth motion she rips of the top and dumps the contents down her throat.

Grimace

“Thank you lord,” she manages to say. She grimaces again as strange sensations travel down her spine. Her ears pop and her mind clears, but not completely. Claiomh clenches her jaw. Syn did say something about that didn’t she. What was it again.

She raises her head and begins to struggle to her feet. Using the force she attempts to summon the vibroblades to her hands. “I’m ready to continue,” her voice more defiance and stubbornness than truth.

And then a lightheadedness hit Claiomh. Her body began to feel odd, as though her organs, her body itself was writhing, changing. She looked at Syn, a confused look as it seemed the spirit began to grow.

She grasped her stomach as her body suddenly began to feel odd. “Oohhh ohhh gods,” she moans as it felt like her organs, her entire body was writhing, changing. Her head snaps up looking at Syn, and her look of discomfort changes into confusion.

Syn, for her part, began to chuckle. “Oh your Sith Lords have a sense of humor it seems, especially the Guide. I must pick his mind sometimes to see how far alchemy has come since I lived.” One now massive seeming hand reached out, the static of her spirit as it came in contact with Claiomh making her skin crawl.

Claiomh blinks, her mind a strange chattering of thoughts. Old memories, very old memories that she worked hard to forget came to the surface. Clear and crisp. She listens in a daze to the sprit as Syn chuckled and talked about the alchemist. Her eyes grew wide as the sprits now huge hand reached out to touch her. She felt her teeth clench as a strange static electricity flowed through her. But that was just one more layer to an ocean of strange sensations she was feeling.
The concern must have reached her eyes as Syn laughed once more.

Suddenly she felt her hands automatically grabbing at her clothes. She looks down and hears herself gasp. Her clothes were growing, growing all around her. But it was not until a moment later she realized it was her body that was shrinking.

“Let me show you what has occurred, the price, it seems, to remove most of the effects of the poison.” she said, laughter ringing through the words. A piece of rubble lifted, turning red with heat. It deformed, spinning, becoming reflective, the white heat of the edge letting there be enough light for Claiomh to see what had happened.

She was now just under five feet tall, and seemed to have regressed in age to that of approximately an eleven year old. Syn spoke again, humor and contempt in her voice, “You seem to have become a child, little Peon.”

She stares for a moment at the scraggly, red-headed, big-green-eyed, kid staring back. Legs to long for her body like a lanky fathier.

Without taking her eyes off the mirror she utters only one word in a voice she barely recognized.

“Fark.”

But it wasn’t for the reasons one would suppose. Her earliest memories were of slavers. And the group of Sith who slaughtered them. Her childhood was an endless race to learn as many skills as possible with the marauders. But that was her joy - the problem - the worst of all - were the rules. Her cravings for adventure and curiosity seemed to be a constant affront to her teachers and their hierarchy.

She force’s herself to look away from the image of herself, swallows hard, but in the same motion takes a vibroblade and cuts strips of fabric from her pants leg. She creates a sort of belt and uses her oversized shirt as now a tunic.

Getting up, she summons the second vibroblade to her hand. “Thank you for the antidote,” she says in a high voice as she bows to Darth Syn. Hiding a shaking hand, she turns to her guide. “I’m ready to continue. I suppose you don’t have a new set of clothes, so I’ll make do with this.”

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 @darthbernael (As GM’s and Emperor and High Lord) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough)

 

Syn chuckled, an evil tone to the noise, “It is going to be quite interesting to follow your progress now, child. You were close to as well prepared to face the dangers ahead before but now, now I put your chances at less than fifty percent.”

She stood, the hssiss backing away at a glance, then disappearing into the darkness, their presence fading. “You may continue your journey for whatever it is you have been sent here to find. But I do expect to find body parts soon to use in my research, your body parts. Prove me wrong, little Peon.”

The glow of the spirit vanished, the gloom of the corridor returning, an almost quiet feel to the air, Claiomh was alone, still where she had been, and she had a task to complete.

Claiomh’s green eyes shifted up towards the sprit as Syn gave her final taunts. One eye squints in defiance as the Darth Lord gave her less than a 50% chance of survival. She stood still as Syn finishes, and the Hississ vanish into the shadows.

She is quiet, but inside she is a roiling storm of fire. The Dark Lords leave her alone in the silence of the hallway. But she does not flinch.

“Shows what you know of my childhood,” she finally answers in reply to Syn’s taunt.

Looking at her hands she turns both vibroblades on and feels the energy of the rotating edge travel up her arms. She turns her wrists. Then leaps in an acrobatic series of spins, testing her body. Getting a feel for it. More memories began to come back. Manly of the progression of her training...and it was right around this age she really began testing Force fields, boundaries. Both literal and figurative.

She lands on her feet lightly in a semi crouch. The vibroblades were much larger now in her hands. Much larger now overall. Both harder to control and would cover more of herself for deflections.

Claiomh turns them off and slides them into her belt. She takes in a deep breath, filling her young core full of oxygen. Then there is a flicker of movement as the little girl vanishes like some feral, wild thing into the darkness.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 @darthbernael (As GM’s and Emperor and High Lord) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough)


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

Right hand corridor, Sith Academy, Korriban

The little girl dashed down the hallway. Although it was a stretch to call her that. She moved more like a random thought. Here one moment. Gone the next. Appearing. Only to vanish in the same moment. She continues her search for something she had no idea what it was. As she moves her eyes catch signs of a battle that has been fought. The entire academy was an ancient battle ground, but these signs were recent. Her pace did not slow, but her awareness heightened even more.

Suddenly, roars, hisses, and odd chirping sounds echoed in the distance. She brings air into her lungs, reaching out with her senses but all she felt was the overwhelming presence of the Dark Side. Her little body darted here and there. A shinny red scaled fish darting from rock to branch, to rock. She feels tremors shimer though the academy. They were not from quakes, but somebody, somewhere was having themselves a dance.

She looked up and to her sides as sections of the walls and ceiling begun dropping to the floor. It was not the hazard it appeared. Rather the little girl saw the rocks and rubble as ammunition. Claiomh needed to think differently than her usual, unapologetic, marauder style of fighting. She needed to remember her first teachings when she was a child.

The Force twinged. She pauses. Her eyes scan over every Nook and cranny as her senses are stretched to the max. Suddenly she squints as light drives away her shadows. Torches flare of life and bathe her in unwanted illumination.

They did however reveal a door to a room, which was blocked by a large stone. And that was not the only thing which was illuminated. She felt her body instinctively half-crouch

Human-like beings that radiated darkaide energy. Her eyes found two and they were massive; armed with blades that were as tall as she was. They were making noises back and forth as if they were talking to one another. Her eyes flew again to the door, and the rock that blocked it. She needed to move that stone. Her eyes flitted back to the creatures; one behind her and one in front.

A memory came back to Claiomh, from one of her first Masters. She stood with lightsaber in hand about to enter an arena. -

“They think they know you. They think your fear alone will paralyze you. They do not know - your job is not to live. Your job is not to survive. Your job is simply - to kill them first. The rest will fall into place. But this...you will only show them - as the life leaves their eyes.”

Past the creature in front of her, she selects a fist sized rock and sends it hurtling past that creature and into the creature behind her. Her plan was two-fold. First attempt to turn one against the other, and second distract both and any others that might be in the room.

Taking advantage of the bowing walls and rubble littering everywhere, she leaps into the wall. Her legs swiftly carry her up and across the wall; feet landing on dislodged bricks and stones.

TAGS: @darthbernael,
@Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 (As co-GM’s, Emperor, and High Lord) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough - to observe the peons in action)[/QUOTE]


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

OOC: Combo with the illustrious GMs

Location: The Passage to the Valley of the Dark Lord

IC: Tobbi Airskipper, mysterious voice, Guide, Darth Bernael

Tobbi saw the mysterious glow and followed the ethereal voice's instructions, entering the passageway. The air was musky, and Tobbi could hear the scuttling sounds of spiders crawling all over the secret tunnel, along with the noise of slime slowly dripping down onto the floor. As the peon made his way a little bit further inside, the secret door closed abruptly behind him. Tobbi would've been left in eternal darkness if not for the azure glow of a Sith spirit that continued to illuminate the hall.

The glow was a distraction, of course.

The floor opened up beneath his feet, and the shadows swallowed him whole. Chunks of masonry would tumble down after Tobbi, closing the hole even as he fell. The way down was not simple; he would be impacted by the winding nature of the tunnel, which seemed to have been created by an incredible exertion in the Force, a proverbial fist shattering stone and rock as if nothing more than flimsy paper.

There was no light in these dark depths.

If there had been, all he would have caught glimpses of was various designs, twisted corpses, and broken and crushed stone.

The heart of Korriban was a strata of tombs upon tombs upon tombs. If Tobbi did not gather the Force; he was as likely to die from a twisted neck, or a snapped spine, or a broken skull - as he was to be scraped and bruised and endlessly contorted as he was tugged deeper and deeper into the depths.

The fall, it seemed as it would never end.

Minutes passed, then half an hour - then more than an hour.

Down and down he went.

Down.

Down.

Down.

CRASH!

CRACK!

CRUMBLE!

The same sounds have repeatedly throughout Tobbi's descent into the endless abyss.

CRASH!

CRACK!

CRUMBLE!

The gravity of the abyss tossed Tobbi around as if he were a ragdoll. Being thrown from side to side like a dog's chew toy, acquiring scrapes and bruises along the way.

CRASH!

CRACK!

CRUMBLE!

Tobbi knew he couldn't keep this up, any more battering, and he'd be a dead man. But every time he tried to concentrate, the same sounds and actions would repeat, breaking his concentration.

CRASH!

CRACK!

CRUMBLE!

"FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS!" Tobbi yelled to himself, amping himself up. Tobbi closed his eyes and let the energies of the force flow through his body.

CRASH!

CRACK!

CRUMBLE!

The pain did not break his concentration now. Tobbi exerted his will over the force, demanding it to spread over his body, and it complied.

THUMP!

THUD!

THUNK!

Tobbi managed to create a minor barrier; it formed a visible outline of energy wrapped around his body. This barrier protected Tobbi's body. Each crash was now a thump, a crack transformed into a thud, and a crumble morphed into a thunk. Tobbi figured that this trapdoor was all apart of the test, so Tobbi resigned himself to keep freefalling until he reached the bottom if there was one.

THUMP!

THUD!

THUNK!

The bottom opened up beneath him, and he fell into a massive immense cavern - which revealed a veritable city in the depths; a necropolis. There was light here, somewhere, as he could see the shape of the buildings - towers, pyramids, sarcophagi - but of course, his immediate concern was not slamming into the ground and dying.

Location: Korriban underground Necropolis

Tobbi would've been amazed at the sight of this underground necropolis city if had not been for the fact that he was now spiraling in the air with the ground now closely approaching his position.

Tobbi was not skilled enough with the force to make himself levitate but what he achieved at this moment barred an uncanny resemblance to that ability.

Tobbi used the force as his own braking system, outstretching his hand and releasing a force wave to blast himself upwards to break up the momentum of his freefall. Tobbi continued this numerous times until the deadly freefall was nothing more than a slip and slide at the park.

Once Tobbi reached the ground safely, he took a moment to gaze at the cavern's environment and structure,

"Wow...."

Piqued curiosity was the response to the solution to his fall; approval, even. Then there was a murmur in the Force, a chuckle. His awe was appreciated - it was the appropriate response to what was now evident before the Peon.

Tell me, how old do you believe Sith civilization to be?

The voice was soft and yet brittle; goading and yet sincere; dark and yet warm; light and yet sharp. It was many voices, entrapped and entwined within one.

The voice caught Tobbi off-guard, but he answered nonetheless,

"I don't really know, but it has to be at least a couple of millennia. There's so much, endless bodies, endless structures."

A couple?. A snort.

A disembodied enquires of you, and you answer with vagaries? There was a kink in the Force, and Tobbi was tripped at ankle level; sent to the ground.

What kind of Peon are you?

What kind of Peon are you?

As Tobbi fell to the ground, his anger flared, he wanted to lash out so badly but he tempered his anger as much as he could, hiding it behind many walls of discipline.

Tobbi instead gathered himself into a kneeling position.

"My apologies, I'm still awe-struck by the scope and magnitude of the Sith culture. Seeing as how there endless amounts of structures, tombs, and corpses. My definitive answer is that they have always existed from the very beginning."

Of Time? You are correct, of course. The Firstborn numbered those that would become Sith, but the Sith themselves came into being as a civilization - as a force of nature - a hundred millennia ago.

The voice let that fact settle for a moment.

Then there was a tug of attention to the ruined Temples' largest, and the stranger would not speak again. The hint was given.

As the voice stopped talking, Tobbi took a minute to calm himself as he saw a bug skittering across the ground. Using the force, Tobbi levitated it and crushed it till it was nothing more than a bloody pulp.

Feeling satisfied, Tobbi made his way to the ruined Temples' largest, taking the hint that the disembodied voice gave him.

There were thirteen thrones, all set-out, many sat upon by stone statues, all manner of squares in the walls marked with crests, seals, and iconography, rising high, high, high up. Tobbi would sense that bodies were entombed in those drawers - mummified, with power reverberating from them. Sith of ancient times, old as could be.

An amalgamation building into a crescendo, so much energy in the air as to be heady, intoxicating, and incredible.

Drunk, Tobbi could be if he imbibed too deeply upon this sensation.

But the spirits waited for his reaction, for his words.

This was the most concentrated place on the dark side of this world.

In this sector.

In this galaxy.

It was condensed, pressed into this building as if ready to break-out and ensnare the cosmos.

"The darkness, there's so much. I-I've never seen something beautiful, so all-consuming, so fulfilling!"

Tobbi gazed upon the biggest Darkside Nexus in the entire galaxy. It hypnotized him; the power coursed through his veins, he felt as if he could do anything and be anywhere he wanted. The peon couldn't move, his eyes too fixated on the beauty of it all. He simply didn't want to leave; he felt free as if he could live here forever and ever and ever and ever.

TOBBI focus! You need to remember your mental discipline. There will be times where your mind will be tempted to be impetuous but to counter this; you must always be thinking and focus.

The voice boomed in his head; it was his father's voice. And Tobbi remembered the moment in which it came from, a training session between him and his father a full three years before he joined the Sith. This memory snapped Tobbi's mind into focus, the sweet nectar of the nexus was still trying to seduce his mind to madness but his discipline that was built up his whole life kept him focused, but that didn't stop him from being awed in its presence.

The pressure increased upon the ‘man; it was intense. The crushing force of it would resolve into voices. “Peon.”

“You interrupt our hundred millennia slumber for what.”

An empty throne would draw his eye.

“Do you offer your body in place of Lord Vader? We will reward you with power for a century, and then entomb you for the rest of time.”

What? Lord Vader, as in they have the ability to swap my soul with him?!!

Tobbi bowed, though he wasn't sure what or who he was bowing to. But one thing was for certain; he wasn't interested in being here for eternity no matter how tempting the power was.

"No, my Lords, I was sent here by a disembodied voice. An ethereal figure of sorts, my exact purpose here, I'm still not sure of."

Another voice. “I didn’t think they were worthy. We need someone truly successful before we offer them a seat.”

“The tomb is empty; it was built, and it vexes me that it lies fallow.”

“A nameless Peon is not an acceptable substitute for Lord Vader.”

“Vader betrayed us; his legacy should be an insult.”

The voices were off, arguing as if Tobbi had not even replied, nor was even here.

You see how the ancient ones have made themselves irrelevant, yes?

This constant stream of arguments confounded Tobbi. It was as if he never said anything at all. The Peon stood up and looked around the throne room examining it when he heard the disembodied voice speak once more.

"Yes, I see how they squabble amongst each other. Their arguments seemingly continuing for eternity. What are they?"


The original Sith; those who cling to their successes and believe they can dictate to the living. They have knowledge, which they horde and squander, to the expense of the Order. They do not understand their place in the greater struggle.

There was a slight tug upon his shoulder as if a hand was turning him to look in a direction. He was being drawn to look at one of the drawers with a seal upon it.



There was a corpse within there, clearly, and something the voice was pushing him towards.

Above Tobbi, the Sith spirits argued amongst themselves still about the pros and cons of a Peon being entombed on Vader’s throne.

Tobbi paid no mind to the squabbling spirits; their arguments would drive anyone to madness if they listened for too long. The peon knelt to examine the corpse. It smelled...well, like a corpse, so nothing too surprising. But it was incredibly well preserved for a cadaver that laid here for eons. This is probably the doing of the Darkside nexus, Tobbi thought.

There it was, glinting beneath the corpse and just about visible. A trio of items, it seemed. A lightsaber, impossibly old; a pyramidal shape; a golden amulet.

“And what are you doing?”

A spirit howled at him, and one of the stone sentries became animate as it ripped from the side of one of the thirteen tomb-thrones. It appeared to be a granite version of Darth Vader himself, starting towards Tobbi.

A cacophony of outrage lit up the Temple.

Oops.

When the voices of the original Sith called to him, it sent chills up his spine. As he turned around, he saw the statue of Vader come alive.

So much for being irrelevant.

"Um, a question occurs...Why is there a statue of Vader in an ancient temple like this?"

As Tobbi asked this to the disembodied spirit, he levitated all of the items and attached them to his belt clips. Except for the amulet, Tobbi thought it best to wear that on his neck.

The Statue came closer, and Tobbi ignited his lightsaber, swiping it at the inanimate figure, trying to ward it off.

You don’t want to think the Dark Lords of recent ages did not know of this place? Did not make offerings in exchange for knowledge and power? The voice in his mind was amused. Darth Sidious was the last Emperor; he and his apprentice were accepted as true successors to the Sith, and so expected to be entombed here... neither has been, and likely neither will...

The Vader drew a lightsaber and ignited it, a crackling crimson blade. It had a motion and flexibility surprising for a statue, but in-keeping with Vader’s bulk and tank-like build.

I would run if I was you.

Tobbi was horrified at the Statue pulling out its very own lightsaber. And began nodding at the voice's suggestion.

"Y-yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

Tobbi turned off his lightsaber and made a mad dash for the exit, leaving the temple and sprinting as fast as he could, activating the force to quicken his thinking so he could command his limbs to work faster. The Sith never failed to both fascinate and frighten the Peon, how any Jedi could hope to keep up was beyond him.

The statue boomed with each step, in the distant but still following. The necropolis was a series of decayed buildings full of abandoned shadows and broken technology. The footfalls echoed through the cavern, hammering upon Tobbi’s mind with each landing.

So what’s your plan?

"I don't have one yet, but I'm sure I'll think of something."

Tobbi had taken note of the broken technology and buildings that were strewn all over the cavern. One, particularly of note, was a broken freighter sitting upon a building directly above him; it was teetering on the edge. Only being balanced by its fragile landing gear. Noting this, Tobbi collapsed to the ground, breathing as hard as he could. He looked back; he saw the Statue slowly making its way to his position. Each footstep an earthquake.

"Oh no, whatever will I do, I'm just a lowly peon, and my weak peon legs gave out on me~."

There, a little kayfabe should do the trick.

The stone Vader caught up, a looming monster that was inevitable, inexorable - its very existence promised death. It swept its blade into a two-handed attack, held above its head -

"You are as clumsy as you are stupid."

As the Vader statue struck the blow, Tobbi jumped into the air, dodging the strike, and outstretched his hand. The Peon wasn't powerful enough yet to literally lift the entire freighter, but he didn't have to be, all he needed was to take out the landing gear, and gravity would do the rest. With that in mind, Tobbi crushed its land gear with a force push, causing the ship and the building to buckle under its own weight; this, in turn, led both to collapse and fall on the Statue's position.

The freighter slammed upon the Vader, and for a moment, there was relative silence, save for the tumbling of wires and screws and debris.

Oh, you sweet, naive Peon...

The freighter shook, and the Vader lifted it one-handed, tipping it behind him and stepping forward, slashing out with the blade for Tobbi’s neck -

Tobbi didn't have time to react to the Statue's amazing feat of strength, the blade was coming fast, and he needed to do something now. Tobbi once again called upon the power of Force speed and used it to duck underneath the Statue's blow. While the Statue was in mid-swing Tobbi activated his claimed lightsaber and aimed to cleave the stone look-alike in half.

The amulet shone with power, glowing in his hands. The Vader was catching up, of course, stomping forward. There was an entwining of energy streams between Tobbi and him, but the amulet would bind them as much as empower him; that was an instinctive understanding to it.

Look up.

A piece of broken masonry was flying towards him, physically thrown by the Vader statue -

"Aw, Come on!!!"

Tobbi dodged out of the way of the flying masonry, rolling across the ground. There was only one way to get rid of the nuisance; he would have to use the amulet on the Statue, it would empower him, but it would also bind him. What that meant was unknown to Tobbi, but he needed to try something. He grabbed the amulet and rushed towards the Vader statue, hoping that the Amulet would be activated again.

The amulet sparked purple, covering his hand in the fire that both burned his skin down to the bone and then healed it at the same time. He had the energy to spare now; what power he put through the artifact would be amplified a dozen-fold.

The Vader statue advanced, a colossal two-handed blow swinging up at and across -

Tobbi felt the constant burning and healing of the amulet. It was suffering and relief at the same time. Pain and rejuvenation all in one, Tobbi put his energy into the amulet, hoping that it would do something before the Statue cut off his head.

A blade of purple energy erupted from the amulet, ripping through the statue, sending it tumbling to the ground in pieces. The energy continued to burn his hand, the pain immense.

Well done, my friend. You did well.

Tobbi was relieved to see the Vader statue crumble before the might of the energy of the amulet; however, the pain of its destructive properties returned, causing him to drop it. The peon's hands were constantly vibrating, but Tobbi willed the tremor to stop, and it did pass. As Tobbi eased up, the tremor was nowhere to be found.

"Thank you. May I ask for your identity?" Tobbi spoke, addressing the rouge voice inhabiting his head.

You may, of course, but would it help you? To know I used you, a mere Peon, to steal from the Sith of Antiquity? The ones who originally served the Architects, and the Old Ones, in the Cosmic Wars against the Celestials?

There was a slight chuckle.

Or would you rather waste your single question to wonder as to the cost of your survival?

Tobbi took in the voice's dialogue and pondered on his response to it.

"All I'm concerned with is passing the trials and impressing my Sith masters. As a peon, I am merely a tool for the Sith meant to be used for any purpose. My survivability is an afterthought."

Tobbi meant every word he said, except for his survivability. The Peon did not wish to die on any mission, but he acknowledges that it was a genuine possibility, a necessary risk for power.

Grudging respect entered his tone. Well said.

The Holocron contains a creature; consume it, and it will alter your physiology and sever the bond with the amulet. Otherwise, it will replace your skin with metal, after repeated use, and recreate you via mechu-deru into a lifeless husk.

The voice paused, not caring to elucidate what the Sith words he spoke meant. I will teach you how to access the Holocron if you complete my task.

Tobbi barely understood the Voice's explanations, especially the term mechu-deru, which was new and sounded like a painful process. Tobbi could go his entire life without, but Tobbi understood that he was being held hostage. His entire body was on the line now, and so Tobbi needed to complete the Voice's task.

"What do you require of me?"

There is another level lower than this; into the dead flesh. I shall show you.

Indeed, a flash of a place within a decayed building was evident. There was a bore-hole, something that had been drilled into the core of the planet when the first settlers arrived.

You shall take the hollowed-out cerebral veins back towards the Temple.

"Cerebral vines?" Tobbi echoed as he followed the voice's guidance towards the bore-hole. Once there, Tobbi peered inside and saw that it was deep and dark, so nothing too surprising. However, Tobbi could not help but wonder how many layers were inhabited within this planet; the Sith just continued to amaze him.

Location: The fleshy core of Korriban

As he reached down the depths, the material of the tunnel was indeed odd. It wasn’t rock, no, but nor did it have a soft exterior... it was almost spongy... but it also stank like death, like decay; like dying flesh.

There was a tug forward, and the Peon would know the way to go through the black, black depths. Carefully, there are all manner of creatures that gnaw on these dark places.

There was a skritch-scratch noise behind him, a slight rumbling, too. He could feel the vibrations through the meat of the floor.

As the cave rumbled, Tobbi hid in one of the crevices of the tunnel. As Tobbi hid; he accidentally put his hand on the spongy material, he realized it was damp. Immediately removing his hand from the spongey exterior stands of a syrupy substance stuck to his hand.

"Ugh," Tobbi reacted as he wiped the juices on his combat armor. "This planet is so weird. Is there a giant living organism in here?"

Then it dawned on him; the planet was the giant living organism, he thought. There's no way it couldn't be; why else would there be multiple layers of the planet and a bore-hole straight to the core.

"I know you can read my mind, so am I right? Is this planet alive?"

It was a hundred millennia ago.

Before it was decapitated from its owner, that is. The Killiks spun the surface upon the skull, and Korriban was born, or, as it was called back then, Pesegam. Or was it Moraband? This world has had a few names.

He sounded rueful.

You are to use the amulet to bring the Temple down into the depths when you reach the point I direct. Understood?

The voice spoke in riddles to Tobbi,

the Kiliks?

Tobbi was perplexed by the name, as he had never heard of them before. But with his original question satisfied, Tobbi left the crevice and continued down the hall. As this was another thing, Tobbi would have to research later.

"I understand; nothing will keep me from my mission."

Tobbi said to the voice, resolute in his task, bringing his cautious walk into a full-on sprint.

There was a moment that was not telegraphed in the Force whatsoever; indeed it seemed to be dead silent within these catacombs. One moment Tobbi was running; the next, his foot went through a membrane, and he fell into the putrid liquid, sliding into some kind of fleshy gap in the ground. It was akin to ooze, cloying upon him and drawing him down. There was a spark between two folds of mass, which illuminated his plight - and he was falling towards that, being drawn down inexorably -

Tobbi saw the illuminating light but could not help but think how disgusting this descent was as he was being covered in the putrid subterranean juices of the planet's core.

"Blech!" Tobbi reacted as he futility tried to escape out of the fleshy gap in the ground.

The flesh shoved him down, and he passed through the next burst of light.

As pain engulfed him, so too would memory.

- I am Power; I am the Father of Shadows.

In one mighty hand was a gem of great ruby colour, his flesh grey and fronds of tentacles upon his chin. Wings swept, keeping him afloat in the vastness of space, a collection of shadowy ships flitting by, providing a sense of immense scale for the creature whose memory that he had fallen within.

The great monster released the Force through the gem, a blast with great power blazing out and slamming into a distant world - it exploded, shattered with the strength of a modern superlaser. He was already turning, pursuing the orb of light that harassed him. He was impacted, bowled over by a herald, a small humanoid shape with wings, beckoning a pair of beasts in white and black, one a griffin, the other a bat, grabbed at his shoulders, claws rending at his flesh -

He swung a massive hand, and they flittered away as the orb unleashed the energy that knocked the ruby aside, but he grabbed the orb, squeezing where the throat would have been on a mortal -

That was a mistake; none of them were -

The moment ended, and the Force tugged at Tobbi, drawing him up and out of the muck as his breath caught, arriving where he had fallen from, given time to choke and cough up what could only be described as liquefied brain matter.

As Tobbi threw up, whatever that was, he couldn't help but think about the vision he saw. The father of shadows, Tobbi echoed, trying to make sense of it all. The being in his vision filled Tobbi with awe, as Tobbi realized that there was a being who existed once upon a time, which could extinguish all of his enemies, a power akin to the Death star itself, amazing.

Tobbi felt calm, scarily calm. There was just no way around it; the Dark Side nexus of Korriban was transforming him, his trials molding him, for this is what Emperor Sidious and Lord Vader must've seen, true power. A power to extinguish life, nothing mattered anymore, not Devron, not his family; all that was on his mind was power. Tobbi stood up and looked at his amulet, " The Darkside is full of many surprises, isn't it?"

Tobbi chuckled; all he felt was joy at this moment, "I have many questions, but this comes first." The peon raised the amulet into the air, "Is this the spot?"

This is the spot.

Be prepared; this will hurt more than last time.

The fog and dark seemed to part, showing the indentation of the support struts of the Temple.

It was exposed and free -

And then a fleshy limb coiled around his ankle and snapped in back towards the hole in the ground; a red and putrid creature that was all pink-roiling flesh, insectile teeth, and mandibles -

A flea?

Human-sized?

Tobbi turned on his lightsaber as he assumed that the planet was revolting against the voice's plan. The Peon has learned to assume everything was hostile in this twisted environment; his instinct took hold, resulting in him swinging his saber at the creature.

The creature removed its tongue from the ankle and snarled, biting upon the lightsaber. Its teeth and mandibles held on - they didn't yield to the blade - it pulled, trying to yank the weapon free from Tobbi. For some reason, it was naturally invulnerable to the lightsaber -

"What!?" Tobbi shouted in confusion; the saber touched the skin of this...Creature! But it did not burn; it was invulnerable to his main weapon of attack. As the creature continued to bite his lightsaber, Tobbi noticed that it also let go of his ankle. The peon observed the creature, inquisitively studying it, he hated what he was about to do next, but the Darkside kept urging him, gnawed at him. It was a seductive mistress, telling him to lower his guard.

Tobbi couldn't distinguish if this were the Darkside nexus of Korriban trying to claim his mind or if it really was the Darkside guiding his honed instinct. After a bit of hesitation, Tobbi deactivated his lightsaber but gripped the amulet tightly, planning to use it if anything went awry.

The creature clacked its mandibles, brain-fluid dribbling from them, and drew itself out. Its carapace was actually black under the bloody-goo, and it had six arms. An insect of some kind, it chittered at him. It was clearly acting aggressively, and in the Force, it gave the impression it was doing the bug equivalent of licking its lips.

It wants to eat you. Tobbi, meet a Killik. There is a small Nest within the decaying matter, hidden deep within... this breed is Force sensitive, and it will -

It puffed at Tobbi, covering him with a perfume-like odor.

Coat you with pheromones...

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

Tobbi said as he started sprinting in the other direction. The peon knew what this meant; if there was a hive underground then-

The Killik made a noise of cheer, and indeed the ground rumbled beneath his feet. The creatures were grotesque, and they began to claw their way out of the break in the rock, flesh dripping from them, putrid and all.

Alright, you need to do something about this. They're cannibals, and you're basically salted meat to them now.

There were four already out the hole, including the first one.

And they've been subsisting on dying gray matter. Not nice, trust me.

There was a sigh.

Did you need my input, Peon?

Tobbi continued to run, all the while thinking of various possibilities needed to dispatch this threat,

"I appreciate the input, Sir, but I figured."

Tobbi looked around the environment hoping for something, anything that would help him get rid of the insectoid menaces. The peon thought back to the Tu'kata's he fought in the entrance of the Sith temple and made comparisons between the two.

Both species are force-sensitive and telepathic, but these creatures are way more reliant on it considering their hive-minded nature. So to survive, I must confuse them and break their concentration, which will, in turn, break them.

Tobbi realized what he needed to do to survive, but he didn't know how he would enact this.

More creatures emerged, skittering around the edges of the tunnel, vanishing into the shadows and becoming more and more difficult to track. The danger was increasing by the moment, and it wasn't likely going to end soon.

Make obstacles, Peon.

Tobbi acknowledged the voice's command and carried it out. Using a combination of the force and his claimed lightsaber, Tobbi started to cut chunks of grey matter from the walls that defined the planet's core and started chucking them at the Kiliks. The peon knew this was a temporary solution; he needed to go back to the spot; it was the nexus of all this and the only way he was going to complete the Voice's task before his body was painfully reconfigured into a mindless husk.

First thing first, Tobbi needed to do something drastic; there was only so much a piece of Greymatter could do in this situation. Come on, think Tobbi think!! You've come too far to fail now.

That's when it hit him. The ceiling that was his ticket, he needed to collapse the tunnels in on itself to trap the Killiks chasing after him in an empty tomb, one they'll be able to dig their way out of, but not before he finishes his task.

So Tobbi stopped in place and tossed his lightsaber in the air, controlling it with the force and creating many huge chunks of loose flesh.
Next, Tobbi used the force and, with the assistance of gravity, pulled the chunks down in the hallway leading to his position, hoping to catch all of his pursuers in his trap.

The roof was falling, but not falling in. The Killiks on the ceiling dropped down, yes, and those beneath were slowed, clicking loudly, angrily, but they weren't dying. Amulet; roof; now.

"Yes, sir!"
At the voice's command, Tobbi immediately raised the amulet to the roof, channeling the amulet's energies to bring the temple of the first Sith down into the core.

The roof exploded downwards, and this time, the burning consumed his entire arm, reforming it and reshaping it.

Debris and shrapnel tumbled upon the Killiks, ripping them apart and crashing through the floor to send ichor and gore up into the room. More cracks spidered along the floor and roof -

I would run.

The fire, well, that didn't go out.

Tobbi ignored the pain, adrenaline kicked in, and he was too focused on his survival. The Peon started to run and run and run and run. There was seemingly no way out of this hellhole. It seemed to go on and on forever, leaving Tobbi to scramble along with the core's grey matter endlessly until he would fall inevitably into the abyss below, forever trapped, forever a failure.

Then a light shone through, alas! Tobbi had found his salvation; he had found the bore-hole that the voice had directed him towards. The Peon made a mad scramble towards it and leaped onto the air with some extra help from the force. Clinging onto the gaping hole walls, Tobbi made his ascension until he pulled himself to the surface of the underground city.

Location: Korriban underground Necropolis

The rumbling continued, but he was safe from it. In the distance, the great Temple sagged, falling in on itself, a blaze of howling ghouls and blue fire emerging from it. The amulet continued to draw from Tobbi, more fire consuming his shoulder and arm.

He would notice that it had hit some kind of critical mass; the arm didn't respond to him anymore; he only had control of one arm now, the one holding the borehole. His other arm, the one with the amulet upon it was flexing its fingers as if practicing.

It's replacing you. I did say. Where's the Holocron?

The rogue arm reached into Tobbi's pocket and held out the Holocron...

And dropped it.


"NO!"

Tobbi shouted as his rouge arm dropped the Holocron into the abyss. It would have been lost if not for the Force, which Tobbi used to stop its descent into oblivion. Slowly pulling the "Holocron" into his obedient hand, enduring the slaps and spasms of his now foreign-looking arm. The mass that inhabited his arm was metallic. This worried the Peon; if this kept up, he knew what he would need to do.

The hand reached for Tobbi's throat, clutching it hard.

Repeat after me.

The voice uttered an incantation in an unfamiliar tongue, even as the amulet's mind attempted to squeeze the life out of him -

The Peon stood on the surface, his fate hanging on by a thread. Tobbi muttered the voice's incantations, trying his best to be as accurate as possible while holding the Holocron from dropping into the abyss. All this stacked on top of each other, which was multiplied by the threat of his own arm choking the life out of him.

Tobbi felt himself fleeting; he was tempted to go for his final measure if this continued. However, it was a last resort. Tobbi's life would change entirely if he went through with this; the Peon kept his wits close but his lightsaber closer.

The Holocron opened, glowing red, showing words -

Another incantation.

Say it, or die.

Black crept at the edges of Tobbi's vision as consciousness began to fade -

I...Won't...Die!!

These words echoed in the Peon's mind.

Tobbi muttered the last of the incantations; his voice rasped in pain, and his eyes were bloodshot, but to him, everything was becoming black.

There was a flash of light, and his arm recovered, the metallic shell bursting off and raining down in a glitter of dust. The amulet clanged to the ground, steaming, before the golden-metal dissolved into the ground.

His breath would come back, but his throat was already showing the bruises of the techno beast grip.

Excellent. With that Holocron, I shall be able to reclaim the technique of mechu-deru and use it to transform any Sith into a mindless robo-zombie... the time of Sith in-fighting is over.

His voice crowed victory.

Of course, now Tobbi knew what fate awaited for the Sith if that technique was used upon them.

Tobbi collapsed to the ground, every breath felt like a blessing, but his throat still felt the abuse it took earlier. Tobbi looked at his arm, which used to be rouge; it felt good to have full control again. The Peon took note of everything that the mysterious voice had said while reeling the Holocron via the force into his hand. Tobbi thought it best if he didn't comment on it and presented the prize.

"Where should I bring your prize, Sir?"

The Holocron whispered to Tobbi.

About how he should master it, about how he should enslave the galaxy.

That this nameless voice had not earned it.

Another whispered that it was heresy and should never see the light of day.

Another that it was not Sith to exert such control over one's Order.

Another that the Sith way was to fight amongst themselves and grow stronger.

Tobbi started to agree with some voices; he had worked hard for this, he had earned it. This was his, not anyone else's, and it is in a Sith's nature to want to surpass their superiors after all.

Tobbi couldn't resist the temptation and opened the Holocron.

A noise reached Tobbi's ears. It was a whisper of sound at first, a short distance away. Slowly it resolved into several voices. The first was recognizable as that of the Guide, "Some humans would do anything to see if it was possible to do it. If you put a large switch in some cave somewhere, with a sign on it saying 'End-of-the-World Switch. PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH'; the paint wouldn't even have time to dry." he said dryly.

The next was a flat voice, one that was also recognizable as that of the Anzati, Darth Bernael, "Yes, he was progressing so well, and then he goes and does something quite unwise. You would have thought he realized that when his arm began to turn to metal."

The last, well...

There was a thoughtful sound of introspection, or perhaps of expectation. The question had been answered, and the 'chink in the armor.' revealed, perhaps that was the silver lining. All things possessed strengths and weaknesses; the trick was to discover them and proceed from there. Esoteric concerns were always the trickiest of all, always and without fail. Esoterica: there were no perfect students under her tutelage. Trial and error were her ways, but failing to learn was a clear path to an early end.

A peon was still only a peon and not yet as sith, but potential had to be measured. Areas of strength and areas of opportunities had to be acknowledged, for only then could there be growth. Those whose ambitions outpaced wisdom never made it far, seemingly by their own design.

Therefore, in the face of one's own misfortune, whether by one's own hands or another's, their true face stood to be revealed. It took no effort whatsoever to glory in victory, but what could they be uncovered in the face of abject failure? Could strength be found even then?

This was a critical question, but the answer is what mattered most.

In conclusion, it stood to reason that the greatest Peon the Sith had ever had, his greatest victory and greatest folly should be equal in magnitude.

Liquid metal was birthed from the heart of the Holocron, ensnaring him in a webbing of mechu-deru. It ensnared his neck, his arms, his body, attempting to find purchase on his face - reaching for his mouth, eyes, nose, ears - trying to find a way in.

It wanted him.

Sith words rumbled within his mind, reaching out.

They unknotted into a language he understood.

Maggot of metal, rust, and rot. Sith life draws breath; old life does not.

The voice sighed.

Do you think a True Sith would want to have lifeless automatons as his servants?

The man's tones acquired an echo as if rebounding off the broken buildings' walls beside him.

Indeed, they were in his ears rather than his head.

A tall, cloaked man stepped around the corner, his eyes glowing red, his bald tattooed head evident. He dropped the cloak, revealing a thin countenance, a lightsaber in his hand.

It was Lord Insipid.

Laughter escaped the now metallic peon, lifeless?

No.

Tobbi had chosen this path because he longed for something to be removed from him, something that he felt got in his way from the very beginning. Something that was inscribed in the very essence of the sith code.

Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.
Through Passion, I gain Strength.
Through Strength, I gain Power.
Through Power, I gain Victory.
Through Victory, my chains are Broken.
The Force shall free me.

And now Tobbi was free.

Free from his humanity.

Ever since the beginning of this trial, Tobbi had felt limited by his flesh, the Peon now felt that as a machine instead of a man, he would become more powerful than he could ever imagine.

The machine rose to its feet and knelt before the Emperor.

"The Peon still lives."

The metal didn't stop, though. It filleted him out, and he would feel that Tobbi was fading.

Or, rather, a separate personality was growing within him, and Tobbi was becoming the outlier.

"The Peon is dying and needs to recognize it."

Insipid stepped forward.

"In short order, the mechu-deru will completely replace your flesh with its own, and your sentience will be extinguished... rewritten. You will be reborn as nothing more than a creature that wishes to spread his infection."

His lightsaber ignited.

"I should destroy you rather than attempt to free you..." His voice was solemn, his disappointment evident. The open Holocron fluttered into Insipid's free hand. "Prove to me that you are worth my effort, Peon."

The Peon refused to let the metal take over his mind. His mind would not succumb to such a pathetic end. This was Tobbi, his will-power ever-present the Peon rose to his feet and ignited his claimed lightsaber.

"I am not a scourge, nor a creature. I am now the embodiment of the Dark-side. I will prove it to you, my lord. With this power, I will destroy all my enemies."

Insipid held the blade tip beneath Tobbi's chin.

"Use it then. Use it on me; show me your power."

He smiled sadly.

"Kill me, or be killed."

"As you wish, my lord. "

The machine rushed towards Insipid, but before he could react, Darkness entered his vision. All was quiet; all was lost.

Tobbi, what are you doing?!!

Roared a voice in his head.

F-father?

Images of Tobbi sparring with his father appeared in his mind. His father had landed a blow on the young boy, but Tobbi refused to acknowledge the attack, thinking that it was something so basic and so easy that he didn't need to dodge it. However, Tobbi forgot one thing, he was a kid and his father, Devron, was a grown man. To think that he could ignore a hit of that caliber was foolish. The blow landed, and Tobbi was sent skittering across the floor, injured gravely.

Devron saw this and rushed to Tobbi's side immediately, finding out that his attack cracked his child's ribs. Devron only went through this attack because they've practices countering this a thousand times, so he fully expected Tobbi to dodge.

Damn it, Tobbi!! You're better than this, think!! You are always acting before you move, not thinking of the consequences ahead. You won't go anywhere in this life if you act so impulsively.

The Nexus of the Dark-side would keep feeding the same message to the Peon, whose mind was convinced that this was the right choice.

But It was a lie.

After all, does anyone really want to become Vader 2.0?

Tobbi retched his hand away from his lightsaber. The Peon saw something; something had let him glimpse into an alternate reality of sorts. Tobbi didn't know what to make of this; it was the first time something like this had ever happened to him. Tobbi looked into the Holocron and quickly dropped weapon, backing away from it. Breathing hard, feeling all the pain, agony, and confusion. Tobbi shook his head and prostrated on the floor. Insipid wasn't here, but the voice still was.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, I'm so sorry, my lord, please forgive me. I nearly gave in; I almost became a slave to the Darkside. Please allow me to make it up to you; please give me a second chance; I will never stray again. I was so foolish, so so foolish."

“Yes, you did.” He held the open Holocron up, reciting the incantation backward. The metal began to flow out of Tobbi, back into the Holocron. Insipid looked at the Peon, his blade still poised.

“And now -“

The liquid exploded, ensnaring Insipid’s face and neck, and the Emperor roared in pain. His blade and the Holocron dropped to the floor and Insipid reached for the metal creature.

It had acquired enough mass inside Tobbi to reach out. Insipid snarled, deeply vexed by the development -

Tobbi grunted in agony as the metal left his body and watched in awe as the Emperor took all the metal inside of the Holocron. Worry then washed over Tobbi as he saw the Emperor get blasted in the face by the metal creature.

"My Emperor!! Are you okay?"

“You let it have purchase within you for too long,” the Emperor growled as he wrestled with the mechu-creature. “Now it’s grown larger...”

He blasted it aside with electricity, slamming it into a nearby building, which prompted it to launch itself back at Insipid, liquid-metal attaching itself to his wrists and arms and neck and waist, enfolding his head -

His lightsaber and the open Holocron remained idle on the floor; the Emperor was exposed -

This is my fault; I have to fix this!!

Tobbi echoed as he groggily stood up to his feet.

"I'm coming, my Emperor!!!!!"

Tobbi reached out to the force, igniting his lightsaber, swung his blade with precision, slicing off the connecting points of the mechu-creature on The Emperor's wrist, arms, neck, and waist, effectively cutting off the creature's grip on Insipid.

The Emperor snorted with some amusement. “You have shown your loyalty at last.” He snapped a finger, and the liquid flowed into the Holocron as he rolled his wrist, and sealed up, briefly glowing red.

Insipid looked down at Tobbi. “I was never in any danger, my dear Peon. But I wanted to see if you would take the opportunity to strike me down, or not.”

His hand lazily gestured, floating his lightsaber back to hand, and the Holocron to a pocket. Insipid peered at the borehole to the surface and floated towards it with a telekinetic nudge. “You’ll have to climb back up.”

The Emperor vanished.

His words fluttered down, though.

“Well done, for the most part. But remember, there are no shortcuts to power. The dark side is quick and easy, yes, but move too quick, find it too easy, then you may have just found yourself facing certain doom.”

As the Emperor vanished, the last statement by Insipid echoed within Tobbi's mind.

"But remember; there are no shortcuts to power. The dark side is quick and easy, yes, but move too quick, find it too easy, then you may have just found yourself facing certain doom.”

"Don't worry, my Emperor. Those words will forever be etched into my heart."

Tobbi then gazed upon the bore-hole to the surface of the planet. And breathed a sigh of relief, I was almost a slave, and I almost died.

The Peon pushed these thoughts out of his head and began making the ascension up the cave, climbing his way to the surface.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 @darthbernael (As GM’s) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough)

"Some humans would do anything to see if it was possible to do it. If you put a large switch in some cave somewhere, with a sign on it saying 'End-of-the-World Switch. PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH'; the paint wouldn't even have time to dry."
Quote from: Terry Pratchett, Thief of Time

 

OOC: Combo with the illustrious GMs

Location: The Passage to the Valley of the Dark Lord

IC: Tobbi Airskipper, Ratakan, The Guide

Tobbi was puzzled at the guide's disappearance, but he didn't let himself focus on it for too long, there was work that needed to be done, and the night was arriving soon. Tobbi wondered how he would get down from the peak of this small mountain; not that he thought of it; in his perspective, the mountain didn't seem small. It instead seemed momentous, given how his body ached from the unpleasant climb and the metal creature fiasco, plus the Tuk'ata horn that was still lodged in his foot.

Oh right, that's still there.

Tobbi took this moment took this moment to examine his foot. Miraculously enough, there seemed to be no sign of infection, and the blood stopped pouring ages ago.

The Peon left the horn alone and began pondering how he was going to get down. After a moment, it became obvious, Tobbi would use the same trick that employed to land safely. At the same time, he was free-falling into the underground necropolis of Korriban, So that's what he did, the Peon leaped from the peak and used the force as a braking system, trying to in his mind, simulate gliding.

By outstretching his hand and releasing a force wave to blast himself upwards to break up the momentum of his freefall. Tobbi continued this trying to make sure that he didn't land on the surface, and maybe if he got lucky, he wouldn't have to.

The force braking worked most of the way down the mountain, slowly getting weaker as the fatigue of the climb, the many battles he’d faced, and the large amount of Force usage he’d done in the last day all began to catch up with him. At one point he fell almost 150 feet in one go as he closed his eyes for just a moment and then felt the wind racing by his face. And then it all went wrong with only 100 feet to go. He went to brake with the Force again and it didn’t respond.

He could feel it there, just below the surface, but it was as though he’d used up all the energy he had to use until he could rest. To make matters worse, that was the point at which the mountain flared out more and he hit the scree of the surface, skidding downward and then the toe of his uninjured foot caught in a rock that didn’t pop loose as he hit it. It threw him face first down the slope and as he fell, his temple hit another rock. His body took that as a sign and he went blank.

Unconscious, he slid and rolled the remaining way down the mountain. When he finally woke, it was fully dark out, only the night sky giving illumination. Or so he thought, until he turned his head. There was a small light, balanced on a rock, and a being, odd looking, standing in front of the light, turning something over in its hands.



A lightsaber.

In his concussed state he reached to his belt, but it was gone.

His lightsaber!

"Hey, that's mine, you piece of Shrakh; give it back!"

Tobbi tried to stand, but he couldn't; his legs had failed him. He was tired, too tired, too sore to even to anything about the theft of his lightsaber. All he could do was crawl toward this being; even that was a gargantuan task, every time he dragged his body across the sand, it felt like he was going to collapse again just from the strain. Even the force couldn't help him now.

"No, no," the Rakata said with almost a giggle. "It's mine, mine you see."

"Was yours, it was," he skipped and scampered off, using the Force to tread sand as if stepping upon water. He wasn't exhausted like Tobbi, which suggested there was some kind of settlement closer than not.

Tobbi saw the stupid alien skip across the sand like it was a damn slip and slide.

"I am so killing that guy when I get my hands on him."

Tobbi continued to crawl until he noticed something. The left tracks in the sand weren't footsteps, but the force's impact left imprints. Tobbi smiled; just you wait, you careless fool, I'm coming for you.

The peon continued to crawl and crawl and crawl, sustaining himself on pure determination alone. That was until he spotted a cactus.....

The Rakata looked back, standing before a cave, and grinned, waving a three-fingered hand as he dove in.

The Peon noticed the weird-looking alien; it mocked him before it jumped into a cave. Tobbi looked at the cactus and shook his head, deciding it was too risky to mess with a cactus here on Korriban; it could be poisonous. Tobbi was sick of crawling, so he mustered up as much willpower as he could and barely rose to his feet. Tobbi limped his way to the cave and looked down, trying to make sure it was safe to jump.

It was; the cave was indeed real and not a mirage. It had a wet edge to it, as if there was moisture clinging to the walls - probably condensation, which implied there was something cold in its heart, possibly something artificial, to make this locale hospitable - they were almost in the middle of nowhere, and nowhere near any of the Valleys of the Sith, nor any of the other run-down settlements across Korriban.

Tobbi had noticed the moisture and the sticking to the cave walls and heard the chuckles of the piece of shrakh that stole his lightsaber.

Tobbi didn't say another word as he practically dove into the cave, hoping to catch the perpetrator unawares. But the Peon knew that such an outcome was not possible as it was more likely that the alien was leading him into this cave; for what purpose Tobbi didn't know, but he's going to find out.

It was dark, though, notwithstanding the apparent dichotomy of water in a desert.

And it was still naturally inclined to accentuate sound.

More particularly, assailing his ears, the chittering gleeful chuckle of the Rakata with his prize.

Upon landing, the only illumination would come from the hole the Peon had just entered. The alien's chittering chuckles would bounce off the walls, the sound being carried acoustically, even as the strange Rakata sought to go deeper into the cave. However, a different, much deeper sound would reverberate so close to the peon, it would shake him. He would recognize it as a low growl, deep and guttural. It was also followed by sniffing.

Despite the darkness, the peon would be able to guess that whatever it was, it was close, very close.

If he turned around, the peon would just be able to make the outline of the hulking creature, which was both broad and tall. Cruel eyes seemed to hover above a rows of razor sharp teeth. Its breath was chilling...down to the bone, even to the soul.



If the peon fainted from sheer terror, no one would fault him. If his heart skipped a beat, or if he let out an unintended scream, it would be understood, for to feel real fear, was only natural. As natural as the creatures hunger.

The terentatek smelled, sensed and could almost taste the blood of the force user. No, not almost. It would taste it, because it began to lumber forward.

"Oh."

That was all the Peon could muster. How could he not, as it was an obvious and appropriate reaction to recognizing that you are outmatched.
Tobbi backed away from the gargantuan beast, and he was depleted, with no amount of physicality nor power through the force that could help the Peon. Tobbi was battered, his muscles sore, his powers drained, but his mind and his will were still there. The true test of a Sith was not what they could do when they had all their powers, but instead, it's what they could do when every odd was stacked against them that truly defined them. It's what separated the Darth Mauls from the Qui-gon Jinns.

Tobbi noticed the stalactites on the ceiling and knew what he had to do; he slunk into the shadows and used the darkness to obscure his presence from the beast while he enacted his plan. Hopefully, the Terentatek would fall for this ploy because Tobbi's plan banked on it.

There was no hiding from the Beast.

The peon was force-sensitive and bleeding. Terentateks were drawn to the blood of force-sensitives, they hungered for it, for it was the greatest delicacy they could feed on. Down here, in its lair, there was literally nowhere the peon could hide.

And so, the terentatek sniffed once and immediately zeroed in on Tobbi’s hiding spot. In an instant, with speed that defied its size, it bounded towards the supposedly hidden peon, growling with anticipation, its clawed steps reverberating through the ground as it neared.

Tobbi knew that the monster could hone in on his location, but its speed still defied all logic and reason. However, Tobbi remained calm; he needed to as there was no other way to enact his plan. Earlier, when Tobbi dipped into the shadows, the Peon noticed loose stalactites on the ceiling. These hanging cave formations had been eroded by the cave's moisture and looked as if the slightest tremor could cause them to fall. Thankfully the Terrentatak generated so much vibration from its movements that the stalactites finally gave way, falling towards the beast's location. Tobbi used this chance to hobble his way towards the exit the alien used, hoping that the sharp falling rocks could cover his retreat.

That giggle of a chuckle echoed out, reminding the Sith that the alien was there, undoubtedly now having had time to prepare for his coming. A sense of expectation formed, but one had to wonder whether it was nearly as dangerous as the Terentatek.

Several stalactites fell, but they were not sizable enough to harm the terentatek, but merely annoy it, causing it to shift its focus from the peon momentarily. It roared loudly as it swatted the perturbing objects, smashing them into fragmenting bits with its clawed appendages.

The chance to slip past the creature would be tricky, a roll of the dice, as it remained in place. There was not much room for the peon to pass or be considered truly outside its range of attack. One good swipe of its claws is all it would take to end the peon.

While seeming to momentarily outwit the creature, randomness still had sway. Would the peon take the risk? would he gamble a chance at relative freedom or move into the claws of death?

Tobbi acknowledged the odds; he understood that if he continued forward, there was a good chance that he'll be killed, but he had to take this chance. There was simply no way Tobbi could compete against such a beast, not in his position, not even as a Peon. At most, all Tobbi could do was delay the inevitable. So Tobbi cast his proverbial die and continued forward despite the risks, despite the odds. The Peon would do what he's always done and kept going forward. Because if Tobbi died here, he was worth much, to begin with.

Time seemed to slow then stretch. The peon was in motion, and so was the creature. It struck another stalactite, exploding it into shards, which bloomed like a flower. They were both in motion now, the beastial hunter and the peon, its prey. Dark eyes took notice of Tobbi's movements, even as more stalactites descended upon it, pummeling it. In truth, its thirst for force-sensitive blood was stronger than its annoyance. The prize was worth the discomfort. Did the peon feel the same about his bid freedom?

A clawed appendage moved, reaching out for Tobbi.

How would the peon respond? What actions would he take? Desire alone did not an Empire build, much less effect an escape. Someone else had the lightsaber he had earned, the one he had turned through sheer will. Where, pray tell, was that strength now?

The worst possible situation had happened again. The Terentatek wanted him badly, and it wouldn't take the hint and leave him alone...

Or maybe it was the opposite; maybe Tobbi hadn't taken the hint that the force was giving him. Despair, loathing, and fear all welled up in his mind ever since he fell off the cliff of that mountain.

The fall and subsequent crawl across the desert had taken something from him, his vigor. If the first phase was a test of might and the second phase was a test of loyalty, then this was the test of will.

And that will was lost; Tobbi had allowed his mind to succumb to his pain and frustration. Not only the pain of his body but the pain of the things he sacrificed joining the Sith. Friends, family, and soul. The frustration of the trials' entire process and how despite doing his best and showing his passion at every turn, he was disliked by some and shunned by others. The Peon wasn't stupid; he could tell the disposition of others based on their behavior alone.



It all angered him, gnawed at him, boiled within. His hands trembled with violent intentions. No matter how much Tobbi proved himself, he was going to have to prove himself more and more and more. It was endless, but the more Tobbi stewed, the more he...giggled?

At first, a smile crept upon his lips, then a giggle, a chuckle, now full-on laughter. Tobbi finally got it, he finally understood, he was never going to be celebrated, he was never going to be widely loved, he was too one-track-minded, too passionate. It was all a big joke; nothing mattered anymore.

The more Tobbi laughed, the more the room shook; it was as if the violent energy of passion that lied under Tobbi's fear and loathing burst out of his body and into reality, causing a great whirlwind of passion to swirl around the Peon. Tobbi stopped laughing; his eyes turned serious, deadly serious, his eyes crimson.




The Peon finally spoke, but despite his expression, his words were quiet, subtle even.

"I will kill you."

The Peon used the force to pull a fallen stalactite into his hand and leaped over the beast's claws; the pain of his body evaporated within this moment. At the Zenith of his jump, Tobbi landed upon the now empty ceiling of the cave and used it to propel himself downwards, with the stalactite pointed downwards poised to strike the Terentatek right in the eye.

The darkside seemed to swoon in response to the peon's dark conviction. Without conviction, all one had left was utter defeat. Tobbi had realized the truth. Celebrity and praise were meaningless, these were only tools. The higher the pedestal, the greater the fall. A sith warrior was always at war, always. Nothing else mattered. Constant conflict was the unending gauntlet of growth, of power, of freedom.

Thus, the sudden spike in the peon's resolve swoll, then burst in the force, stunning the terenatek for the briefest moment, as the peon defied the odds, defied his assigned role as a victim. It was enough of a moment that Tobbi could capitalize, even exploit. In an instant, the peon had called a sizable stalactite to his hand as he leapt in the air. In what looked like a choreographed attack, the peon arced through the air before plunging the column unerringly into one of the creature's eyes.

The point of the stalactite pierced flesh and was driven into the terentatek, who roared in pain and reflexively back-handed the peon with such force, that he travelled the length of the cave and landed unceremoniously exactly where he needed to be, in order to find the thieving alien.

The creature roared and roared in excruciating pain, which was too much to for it bear, as it forgot all about its intended prey.

The peon had succeeded in diverting the beast's attention. He now had several moments to re-orient himself and continue his pursuit. Staying in a cave with a terentatek raging from pain was the one place he did not wish to be right now. The only choice left, was to move forward.

And moved the Peon did, he quickly made his way inside the passageway that he heard the alien's laugh. Tobbi couldn't wait to get his hands on it for stealing his lightsaber that he earned, making him crawl across the sandy desert and leading him into a Terentatek! There was going to a reckoning. A brutal and painfully long reckoning, Tobbi was going to see to that.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 @darthbernael (As GM’s) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough)

 

OOC: Combo with the illustrious GMs

Location: Korriban Cavern

IC: Tobbi Airskipper, Daritha

Tobbi heard the alien's voice from all corners and angles; it didn't matter where. North, west, east, south, it was everywhere and nowhere. It existed, but at the same time, it didn't.

Where?

Where is he?

The confusion drove Tobbi mad; the alien is employing some kind of trick, one that he's never seen before. The Peon covered up his ears, but the voice wouldn't stop taunting him. It wouldn't stop; it was endless, endlessly tormenting. Endlessly annoying, more like it, the peon closed his eyes and adjusted his nose, using the force to enhance his senses.

Tobbi could smell the stench of the bleeding monster that he plunged a rock into; surprisingly, it was still thrashing about, not giving in to the pain and resting. Next, the peon smelled the musk of the cave; it smelled arid and damp. Finally, Tobbi found a new smell, a very faint one. Something he recognized from his brief encounter in the desert.

The Peon smiled as he followed his nose, "Now I gotcha."

The smell led him true, as an unconventional solution but one nonetheless. Everything dark had a certain odor, especially in the Force. In short order, he was on the path, and then, danger senses blazed at him. A net, weighed down by rocks - holes in the walls appearing and spears protruding - the floor shaking as it went to give way -

This corridor was booby-trapped!

Tobbi audibly sucked his teeth as the force sent alarms through his head. The Peon outstretched his hands and used the force to alter the net's trajectory, making it fall harmlessly to his side.

Next, Tobbi channeled the force to his legs and jumped over the crumbling floor. It was only then that Tobbi saw the spears protruding from the walls, another obstacle.

Usually, Tobbi would've complained or cursed at this point. However, the Peon did not care anymore. Tobbi was now at home with adversity, and danger didn't faze him anymore. It was now a reality of his existence, a reality of being a Sith.

Tobbi used his echani training and danced around the Spears in mid-air. Twisting and diving, flipping and swinging until he managed to land on the other side of the corridor.

It was almost a perfect landing, but Tobbi's foot still had a Tuk'ata claw lodged inside. The mixture of pain and the heaviness of his blood soaking in his shoe caused Tobbi to trip at the very end, almost falling into the pit below, but the Peon caught himself and managed to stand upright.

In his moment of needing to control himself, a staff swung around and slammed into his stomach, winding him and sending him tumbling back - an alien hand held up to his head and pushed him with the Force -

The Rakata chittered his malevolent grin as he stepped around the corner -

Tobbi wheezed as the air escaped his lungs, and as he was hunched over from the surprise low, Tobbi was thrown into the chasm telekinetically via the force. As Tobbi looked up from his free-fall into darkness he could see the chittering alien above, snickering at him, mocking him.

Tobbi smiled at the mysterious alien; he hoped he had a family or a tribe of some kind. The Peon could envision it, a reckoning that would make Darth Vader blush. Tobbi used the force to harden his fist and punched through the cavern wall, stopping his freefall. Tobbi didn't know how much time he had left before the wall gave way, if it would at all. But the Peon wanted to send a message to the alien, a reminder to his next victim.

"I hope for your sake that one of your traps actually manages to kill me. Because if I live and get my hands on you-"

*chuckles*

Tobbi couldn't even finish his sentence, he roared with laughter and laughed some more. This entire game of cat and mouse was the setup, but Tobbi didn't want to ruin the punchline.

The Rakata looked down as the Sith tumbled, bloodying up his hand but slowing his fall. With a huff, he flicked a hand to break the ledge and sent it falling down at Tobbi, as he fled towards another set traps -

In-spite of his frustrations, the Rakata was enjoying himself, and sent back.

If.

Tobbi looked at the ledge hurtling towards him and smiled as he outstretched his hand and formed a force barrier to protect himself from the flying debris, causing it to crumble around him once it made impact.

Tobbi saw the alien run off again, and the Peon pulled his bloodied arm out of the wall as he reached the bottom of the pit.

Tobbi shouted, but it wasn't out of anger, no it was primal yawp of declaration.

"YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME, ALIEN! I'LL CHASE YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE WOOOOORLD!!"

The next corridor was completely bereft of threat or danger, oddly. It was silent in the Force, peaceful only.

Good thing, as Tobbi had been exerting himself for hours - if not days. Between the accumulated wounds, bruises, and contusions, let alone the lack of drink and water, he wouldn’t be anywhere near his prime...

Tobbi sensed the quiet; it was soothing, relaxing even. But the Peon didn't trust it for a moment, but this was the only way forward, so he entered while watching his back and peeking around corners. After a significant amount of time that passed, Tobbi decided that he would use this time to assess the damage to his body. Tobbi knew he took many blows, but he wasn't sure what the full extent of the damage had become.

Tobbi found a mirror of sorts hanging off the corridor and looked himself in the mirror, but he wished he hadn't.

His face was sweaty, bloody, and swollen.



His chest bared Lord Manticore's scars and the defiant green saber, which reopened due to the strain Tobbi had constantly been putting on his body.




Both arms were colored purple and red with skin hanging off, highlighting the reckless amounts of times, Tobbi abused his strength at the cost of his arms.



His leg swollen, red and crooked from the duel with the Sephi, and finally...



The horn in his foot causing blood to soak within his shoe.



Tobbi didn't realize that his body had taken so much damage in such little time!

Time?

Now that Tobbi thought about it, he realized that he didn't even know how long he's been on the planet. To Tobbi, it felt like minutes or maybe hours, but the Peon had wondered how he could've possibly been able to accumulate all this damage in one day.

With all this in mind, Tobbi decided it was best to take a sabbatical, sitting down against a wall rest while keeping his vigilance via his senses and the force.

The silence was deafening. He had relaxed into it, but as he did, his mind would begin to wander. The pain was exquisite, and it cut at him, undermined his perception of self. In short order, his eyes would be shut, and he would dose. The entire cave was soaked in dark side energies, some tens of millennia old.

In short order Tobbi would be somewhere else entirely...

He awoke in a room of mirrors. But, he had no reflection.

So who are you, Tobbi?

The voice was his own.

A voice echoed through the darkness.
So who are you, Tobbi?

The question caused the Peon to look inward.
To look himself in the eye using the mirrors that surrounded him. But first comes the question.

Tobbi?
Tobbi?
Tobbi?
Am I Tobbi?

A voice erupted.

I am Tobbi Airskipper, ruler of the Airskipper faction and fortune. The greatest Peon in the history of the Sith and future master of the order.

Another voice answered shyly.

I am Tobbi Airskipper. Unjust usurper of Devron. Killer, murderer, pawn, follower, fool, naive, undisciplined, slave to my father, merely a peon. Maybe future Sith reject and failure.


The Peon saw all the options that the two splintering psyches gave. One brash and arrogant, one quiet and self-doubting. But they were halves of the same whole—twins representing the prodigious progeny that was Tobbi. Tobbi was familiar with these voices, too familiar. But with enough will, Tobbi merged them into one true voice.


I am Tobbi Airskipper, the prodigious progeny and peon of the true Sith Empire.

The mirror images merged into one, and a shadowed, armoured man stepped forward.



"Is that so."

He had his voice, though concealed by a mask.

On his belt was a lightsaber which matched the design Tobbi now had.

Tobbi watched the mirrors merge into a figure, one heavily armored and masked. The being spoke, but its words sent a throbbing pain through Tobbi's body.

It felt like Tobbi was coming apart at the seams.

Who is this figure?

Is he me?

Is he part of me?

My future?

My alternate from a different timeline? Or from a different reality?

No. This pretender isn't me; it can't be me. It's some illusion.

Tobbi was not confident in his thoughts, but are they his anymore?

Tobbi noticed a lightsaber clipped to his belt. One that was not originally there.

No matter. Illusion or not, the being's presence was a contradiction—a logical fallacy in the argument of Tobbi's identity, sanity, and esteem.

One that had to be corrected, so Tobbi or the being that the peon imagined himself as circled the living contradiction, gripping the new lightsaber.

"I am your potential given form and shape. This is merely a vision-quest."

The man unclipped Tobbi's lightsaber and ignited it.

"You seek answers to the Sith. You are not yet one."

He strode forward, swinging a one-handed blow from below and up, which nonetheless carried a strength that Tobbi did not have - even at full power.

My potential? My future?

Tobbi began to ponder the implications of this vision quest and the amazement of seeing the person he would become.

The figure strode forward; his form was seamless, the power; awe-inspiring.

If it weren't for the fact that his counterpart slightly gave away his intention with his stance, Tobbi would have died. As Tobbi barely managed to sidestep the attack, only doing so by the thinnest of margins.


Tobbi assumed the defensive Echani stance. At the outset, one might think that Tobbi was scared or frustrated at this predicament; however, the opposite was true; Tobbi felt nothing but excitement. It wasn't every day that you could test your power against a literal better version of yourself. And Tobbi intends to see if he could not only beat but also surpass his future.





"Pathetic."

He raised a hand, and Tobbi flew into the mirror wall.

"NAME ME!"

His hand turned, and an invisible grip took Tobbi's throat.



An invisible grip tightened around Tobbi's neck, and air escaped his lungs.

The specter of his future demanded something. Something Tobbi has often pondered about but never come to a complete consensus about. However, the Peon gazed upon the abyss, his life fading.

The dark side beckoned and answered in his father's voice, a word that described him always.

Violently passionate and an unstoppable force dedicated to the Sith.

Yes, the figure that stood before him, the person that Tobbi would become, is...

Darth Impetuous​

The man's shoulder sagged with relief.

"Thank you."

A bolt of lightning emerged from his hand and shredded Tobbi, ripping into his neck and sending his nervous system into a spasm. It was pain; it was excruciating agony, traveling upon the very fibers connecting his skin and body. The electricity emerged from his back, ripping a rent through his spine, and Darth Impetuous released him to drop to the floor as a lifeless husk -

To drop, drop, drop -

Back into his real body.

A pair of hands were vising his throat, and a pair of feet were upon his chest -

The Rakata was perched upon Tobbi -

Tobbi tried to scream, but he couldn't, his mouth mute, but his brain conscious of every bolt that seared his skin and rendered his flesh—tearing and ripping into his nerves, sending untold amounts of torment into his mind.

Then after an eternity, Tobbi was released. There Tobbi fell, fell, and fell some more.

Escaping the dreamscape and tethered to the mortal coil did Tobbi awake.

To find weights upon his chest and another grip upon his neck, visible this time.

Tobbi took a second to process, his eyes adjusting to reality, but after calibrating to corporality.

Tobbi's eyes became scarlet with rage and excitement as he immediately thrashed and throttled in place,

as Tobbi saw an old acquaintance, an alien with a cocky smirk on his face.

The alien tried to hang on, but his grip loosened, and Tobbi would be able to breathe a little. The Rakata giggled. “Just die already, pretender Sith. You are nothing, nothing.”

Did he just call me, of all people, a pretender? Tobbi thought as his mind became clearer as air filled his lungs once more.

"No more games!"

Tobbi said, his voice rasped from the strangulation. Tobbi grabbed the Alien's wrist and squeezed them with all the power that his muscles could muster, hoping to break its hands completely.

After all, he's been through, Tobbi deserved something today, and what he wanted more than anything was to see this mongrel whimper, cry and beg before him!

The wrists snapped loudly, and the Rakata cackled in pain, yanking his arms free and trying to scramble away, falling to his back and kicking Tobbi hard in the head -

There~

A melodious tune, one Tobbi longed for.

The song of the bones snapping accompanied by the screams.

Oh yes~

The kick bloodied Tobbi's nose might have even broken it. But Tobbi kept moving, slowly standing to his feet. The pleasure greatly outweighing the pain.

As Tobbi rose to his feet, he saw the Alien scrambling away from him.

"Aww, where are you going?"

Tobbi hummed as he kept pace with the now handicapped Alien.

"I just want to play~."

Tobbi strode across the hall, aiming to place and crush the Alien's left ankle in one swift movement.

There was another chittering laugh from the Rakata as his ankle was crushed. He pushed along with his elbows and leg, still cackling, still amused, even as he flailed with his one last functional leg to try and knock over Tobbi -

Another crunch and another shiver down Tobbi's spine.

The Alien kept laughing, and it was right there that Tobbi realized that, in a way, he felt something toward his foe. The Alien was cunning, and its trickery kept pushing Tobbi further and further, unlocking barriers he never knew he had. And even in its final moments, facing certain doom and inscrutable torture, it laughed. Tobbi...grew fond of that laugh and its self-satisfied smirk.

"That felt good, didn't it~?"

The Alien's last functional leg kicked Tobbi's bad leg, which caused him to stumble a little bit; however, at this point, Tobbi was too entrenched in the moment, too focused on his prey. In fact, Tobbi smiled and giggled as the Alien's kick left it open for a counterattack.

"Good, struggle, resist, fight me~!"

Tobbi aimed an axehandle at the last ankle of his foe, seeking to replicate the bone-shattering effect.

He shattered the second ankle and the Rakata’s maniacal laughter reached a fever pitch. It was utterly immune to pain, seemingly, and he chittered, trying to push himself up the wall without functioning hands or feet, just about managing to fetch up and turn his head to tumble on Tobbi, trying to bite him!

Tobbi easily sidestepped the alien; at this point, it was merely a chittering head. Tobbi kept grinning from ear to ear as he was still in awe of its determination. At that point, Tobbi realized he wanted a memento of sorts, and he knew exactly what he wanted.

Tobbi stood behind his foe, who still chittered away, and took a deep breath, and reminisced on everything. The fall down the mountain top, the crawling, the Terrentatek trap, and the collapsing hallway. Tobbi was reminded of all the annoyance and anger he felt; hate-filled excitement began to make his blood boil. Yet, at the same time, Tobbi couldn't deny the weird sensation he had.

Why?

Why do I feel this way?

What is this life form to me?

A rival. That's what the Alien was, a true rival. Something Tobbi craved, as, in reality, no one he had met so far could ever hope to challenge him, and others were too powerful to challenge. By this point, Tobbi was so far ahead of his sibling peons (if they were still alive) that it hardly resembled a competition. Tobbi was itching for an adversary and there were times where he found one, but they weren't exactly there yet; some Tobbi overestimated and soon became beneath his notice, and in others, he found a potential contender but a far cry from a real nemesis in their current state.

"I hate you with every fiber of my being; you were nothing but an annoyance, and your death will please me greatly. But despite everything, I'll always remember you~."

Tobbi conjured up the perfect image in his mind for what he wanted and moved to do so.



The head ripped free -

And he continued laughing.

On and on and on -

Tobbi poked at the head a few times and shook it a little as if he was a toddler inspecting a new toy.

"Well, this is kinda awkward. I poured my feelings out to you, and you're still alive."

Tobbi's high was ruined at this point, but it was probably for the best; now, he could think clearly. But it was hard to hear his thoughts over the constant chittering from the Alien.

Wow, I can't believe I would've missed this dude or chick.

Tobbi realized he never asked about the Alien's gender or name. And was he really going to keep the head? I mean, he still wanted it, but it was weird even for him.

"Ugh, sometimes my bloodlust gets the best of me."

Tobbi smacked his forehead as he audibly said this.

"Hey, stop laughing already."

Tobbi shook the head some more.

"Something is obviously keeping you alive. What is it, and where can I find it?"

Then realized Tobbi would have killed this thing before he would've known the answer to something kind of crucial.

Maybe not crucial to a sorcerer or perhaps an assassin, but considering that, he bled and got slashed over it. You'd think that Tobbi probably wanted it back, especially as a Sith Warrior, and yeah, he kind of did.

"Wait! Where's my lightsaber, you space donkey?!"

Tobbi began kicking over the er....body of the Alien in search of his lightsaber.

The Rakata cackled a little more. "We put it in the Box, my friend. We drained it, so we might live. Never can we die, as long as part of us animate." A chortle. "We could be put in a jar and picked, in fact!"

Damn, it kind of has a point. Tobbi thought in regards to immortality.

"Okay, fine, fine, you make a solid point, and sure show me the way."

Tobbi stopped walking and attached the head to his belt clip.

"By the way, who and what are you? Like all I call you by is alien, and I'm starting to feel racist. Or speciesist? Xenophobic? Anyway, besides the point, I don't discriminate; I just hate everyone equally."

"You may call me... Daritha. It's not my name, nor a rank I achieved, but eh. Why not?"

He seemed to be calming. Maybe the madness had needed an outlet, and now he didn't have one.

"Anywho, thatta way," he indicated with his eyes. "Oh, and mind the Harch. I may have experimented on him."

"Hmm, Daritha. That's an interesting and unique name."

Darth and Daritha. Tobbi was starting to understand; maybe there was more connection to the Sith and this species than he thought.

Anyway, Tobbi followed Daritha's directions but was intrigued at the mention of a Harch as Tobbi remembered reading about Vader's encounter with one before he was in a suit. Suffice to say, Tobbi remained vigilant, not entirely sure on the motive of his new companion.

The Harch announced himself with a skittering as they entered a room covered in silky-webs -



It moved, entirely out of sight -

"He's heeeereeeee..." Daritha said.

Tobbi caught a good enough glimpse of the creature and immediately went on a rant.

"Oh, and mind the Harch. I MAY have experimented on him."

Tobbi mocked Daritha's words from earlier with a purposefully obnoxious voice.

"Just look at him! Did you feed it nothing but Midichlorians and Death sticks with a dash of Bantha Bile?!"

Tobbi shook his head.

"You and Darth Azathoth would be friends; I can just tell; this is some stuff he's into."

“It’s always useful to know someone’s kinks before I meet them...” Daritha said with a giggle. He indicated with his chin. “It’s there, by the by.”

Indeed, in the shadows, there was a redness, a glow - and a cry, in Tobbi’s mind. It was the Crystal, being killed as it was drained.

More skittering.

The Force didn’t help Tobbi find the Harch...

Tobbi clenched the bridge of his nose then an idea dawned on him. A giant evil smile crept on his face as he turned to his companion, unclipping his head from the utility belt of his armor.

"I think you two didn't properly work things out. Well, now's your chance."

Tobbi prepared to chuck Daritha into the middle of the room. Hopefully, from there, he would be as much of a nuisance to the Harch as he was to Tobbi.

The Harch dropped down in a flash, and Daritha was scooped up. The creature turned its many eyes on Tobbi and then sprang up as Daritha screamed -

For a moment, the red glow of the dome was exposed -

Tobbi whistled in amazement at the speed of the Harch; then, he cringed at the screams that followed.

Sucks to be him; hopefully, that'll hold the Harch's interest for a while, Tobbi thought as he hurried to the dome, following its red glow.

But Tobbi couldn't help but wonder if the plan had worked too smoothly as the Daritha didn't even scream when he broke its bones and ripped its head off, so why was it screaming now?

Tobbi shook his head,

All that matters right now is retrieving my lightsaber; we'll ponder about that later, he reminded himself.

The box was golden, with multiple faces. Placed within it, emitter down, was his lightsaber -

The Harch slammed to the floor behind Tobbi -

He’d been right; the screams were faked - the Harch now had a second head, Daritha. They’d merged into one... as always planned.

They leapt at Tobbi, four arms reaching out -

Typical.

Tobbi thought as he heard an audible THUMP at his flank. Half-expecting this new development allowed Tobbi to dodge away from the leaping Harch. As Tobbi rose to his feet, he felt a burning sensation in his bad leg, which was still broken from his fight with the Sephi but reaggravated by the Daritha's desperate kick earlier. Another test, another trial, and once more operating way below optimal capacity.

"A surprising development Daritha but not unexpected; you're getting rusty," Tobbi announced as he settled into an Echani offensive stance.



TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 @darthbernael (As GM’s) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough)

 

IC: Tobbi Airskipper

Tobbi wasn't fully confident about his chances of taking on the beast, a lame leg, bloodied face, bruised eyes, mangled arms, infected foot, drained of all force abilities except for a sliver, a tiny bit of fire that remained in his soul. Tobbi had to fight; there was no other option, so Tobbi appeared confident, at least despite the grim circumstance.

That was until the Harch-Spider Sithspawn pulled out a lightsaber.

then another,

and another,

and even another after that. Until the abomination pulled out six lightsabers in total!

That was when Tobbi dropped his stance and made a desperate rush or limp for his lightsaber. This was beyond Echani, beyond his father's training, Maybe even beyond his will.

TAG: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @darthbernael, @QueenSabe7 (please help)

 

Character Sheet Triple Approved By GMs

Name: Marcus "Marc" Dren
Sex: Male
Age: 21
Species: Human
Homeworld: Coruscant

Height: 6'0
Weight: 200 lbs
Physical appearance: Fair-skinned man with short black hair, brown eyes, a stubble, and several scars including one on his left cheek and one on his chin.
Clothing: Light armor, boots, gloves, helmet
Abilities: Basic Force skills
Weapon: Electroblade
Occupation: Sith Peon

Biography: Marcus was born into a wealthy and privileged family with a long military history. His father took much pride in Marc's older brother, who Marc looked up to. When Marc's brother was old enough, he left for the local academy... and never returned, dying pointlessly in a random accident. When Marc's father learned about this, he was furious that his son had died like that. He became a lot more abusive after that. There had always been some favoritism with Marc's brother, but Marc didn't realize how much his father didn't care for him until after his brother died. Marc's father saw Marc as weak and that Marc wasn't a worthy successor. He was an awful, awful man.

If there was a child that Marc's father disliked more than Marc, it was his daughter Auranae (or Aura for short). She was Marc's half-sister, born from an affair. Marc's father didn't care much for Aura, so the Dren family servants were more responsible for raising her. Marc was fond of his little half-sister and did his best to protect her from their father's abuse, taking much of it for her. Their father's abuse especially got worst after Marc's mother left him and disappeared. Marc would never forgive his mother for abandoning him. Marc also played with her little sister, who had a habit of making figures with the stuff around the house and using those figures to reenact battles.

One day, Marc's father just lost it. He saw neither Marc or Aura as worthy heirs of his legacy. He smacked the young Aura, causing her head to hit a table. And that's when Marc lost it. For the first time in his life, Marc saw his father for what he truly was... weak. As he murdered him, Marc saw the fear in his father's eyes and he wondered why he was ever afraid of this coward. Marc's father used his power to abuse those weaker than himself. But that didn't make him powerful, it made him a pathetic bully. All those years that Marc was told that he was the weak one. Filled with hatred toward his abuser, Marc killed his father. He felt pride, knowing that he and his sister was finally free of his father. That he had saved them from his abuse. Then he looked down at his sister...

She wasn't moving. The floor around her head was wet with blood.

No, Marc said to himself. He bent down and cradled his sister's body, looking for any signs of life. There were none. Her head had been cracked open by the blow of the table. She was dead.

No, Marc said in disbelief. He had killed their father so that he would never hurt them again. So that he would never hurt her again. He was trying to protect her. If he had done it earlier, if he had killed him long ago she would still be alive. But she isn't. Aura was dead and there was nothing Marc could do about it.

Marcus screamed. He screamed out of rage and grief. He was angry at his father for killing her and angry at himself for being unable to protect her. For being weak until it was too late to save her. For allowing himself to be weak for all those years, taking the abuse so that his father wouldn't hurt her. All those years he had been afraid of fighting back, afraid that Aura would suffer if he stood up for himself. But in the end, it did her no good.

You did this, the voice in Marc's head whispered. You are just as guilty of killing her as your father was. Because you were weak. You were pathetic. You did not have the strength when it mattered. You got her killed.

No! Marc lashed out, destroying everything in the room and anything in the house that reminded him of his father. promising to himself to never be weak again. He would never again hold back. Never again be afraid. Never again be pathetic. Marc felt the dark side of the Force for the first time that day and in order to harness that power he now knew was inside him, he sought out the Sith. He would join them, learn from them, become one of them. He would become strong under the Sith. Stronger than his father could have ever imagined...

-

IC: Marcus Dren

Just outside the ruins of the Sith Academy, Korriban

Like it had many times before, the Lambda shuttle brought new Peons to the ancient homeworks of the Sith and dropped off before the ruined Academy. And like all other Peons brought to Korriban, they were given the same instructions by their Overseers: Navigate the ruins or die trying. Survive the dangers they would find there or be killed in the process. Those were the only two options, the only two expectations.

The shuttle lifted into the air, its former occupants abandoned with nothing except for the clothes they wore and the blades on their backs. Well, one Peon did have something else. Something that had escaped the notice of the Overseers. The Peon reached into his pocket, pulling out a crude handmade figurine of a blade-wielding warrior. The Peon looked down at this figurine, a reminder of why he was doing this. To become strong. To never allow himself to be weak again. That was his purpose, his mission, why he had to be Sith.

Marcus Dren, or Marc as his friends would call him if he had any, put the figurine away and took a deep breath of Korriban air. This was a place of death and Marcus smiled, knowing that he was in the right place.

This was where his journey began and he took those first steps toward his destiny, approaching the ruins. No fear, no doubt. Only determination.

He had to do this. He had to survive. He had to succeed. Anything else was unacceptable.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @darthbernael, @Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough

 

CHARACTER SHEET

Name: Slade Morningstar
Sex: M
Age: 24
Species: Human
Homeworld: Mandalore

Height: 6'9
Weight: 454
Physical Attributes: Well built due to his Mandalorian birth and his time in the deathwatch before leaving to hone his abilities in the force, and is known to train and take bounties constantly to stay sharp and Remain effective
Clothing: light armor, boots, gloves, and helmets
Abilities: force Push, Force pull, learned how to use
Weapons/Tools: his Electrostagg configured for his modified form Seven style,a Electro-knife he keeps in his boot
Occupation/Title: Sith Peon

Biography: Slade was born to the Morningstar clan of mandalore, a clan who followed the Vislas in deathwatch and served till their Last stand, slade is the last surviving member and cared for his beskar'gam and his equipment and ship enough to stash them somewhere in unknown space, he joined the sith after being ran off mandalore and finding out he was the last of his clan,

Approved by the Gms

Skorge steps off the shuttle affixing his Staff and procceds to were he was instructed, The Ex mando, scouting the Terrain, every entrance, every exit, Every guard position, he makes sure to be on time, but Jotted down a mental map of Positions he could use if worse came to worse, He spoke in Mando'a "I have never seen a Place in need of warriors, but this will boost me to the place i Need, then so be it " he says, Moving to where he knew he had to be, he will make sure to never be late, never fail, and always...always look for opportunities to advance himself, The 6'9 452 lb Mando wasn't Easy on the eye, His face and parts of his skin that were exposed where Covered in scar tissue and markings similarly seen on Deathwatch Members, He stood proud of his heritage, He came from a Warrior culture, He was bred to Do this, He was bred to rule


TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @darthbernael (As GM’s Emperor and High Lord) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough - to observe the peons in action)

 

Skorge looks to @CosmoHender " We should work together, It would be more effective" he says Very bluntly before looking at the map " Slade died on mandalore, i am Skorge..." He replays and then bows to the lord bernael before looking back to dren " You with me warrior?" He says before grabbing his staff and Readying to head on, He takes a second to Focus on the Nearby large rock and lift it about 2 ft of the ground and placing it back, He wasn't strong in the Force, But in war he was better, He looks at his fellow peon " Where do you hail from, Vod" using the mando term for brother or friend, The mando looks around and points to the ridge " up there something is watching us, Keep a eye out" He says warning the other Peon



TAGS: @Skorge (To respond - Combo) @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 (As co-GM’s, Emperor, and High Lord) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough - to observe the peons in action)

 

OOC: Combo with the illustrious GMs

Location: Ruins of Sith Academy, Korribam

IC: Marcus Dren

Once the message had ended and the hologram had vanished, Marcus knelt down and placed his hand on the surface of the planet. He could feel it. The energies of the dark side. It was no wonder why this planet had been so important to the Sith throughout their history, even when it was in ruins. Marc's own connection to the dark side was still young and not as strong as it could be, as it had to be. He planned on changing that.

Standing back up, Marcus allowed the dark side to lead him into the entryway of the ruined Academy...

The statue that once graced the entryway to the Academy slowed his progress. He had to clamber over larger sections and squeeze under one long section that blocked progress, except near the base of the statue. Finally he made it past the entry wall and the corridor deeper into the Academy beckoned.

Just as he entered it two light thumps sounded, one before and one behind him. There was just enough light, through the holes rent in the building, to see what had landed. The creatures were lowslung, wide mouthed, their four eyes intent on the Peon that stood between them.



Marcus drew his electroblade, recognizing the creatures as neku from the hunting trips he went on with his brother and father in his youth. As he held his weapon, Marcus drew upon the dark side of the Force and felt the power rising within him.

Just like on those hunting trips from years before, there was the predator and the prey. A hunter was in the position to be either, since they could have the will to be a predator or the weakness to be the prey.

"Come on," Marcus whispered under his breath. "Go ahead, give me an excuse."

As the warrior and sorcerer Peons made their plans to face the two nexu, one before and one behind they did not realize that all was not necessarily as it seemed. A pair of eyes were watching them from beyond a hole in the ceiling of the corridor. An almost disgusted snort, soft enough that neither of them heard it came from the figure attached to the eyes. A head shook, this would not do. He had been given the opportunity, by the Guide, to observe and take action if he felt it necessary. And this qualified…

The first that either Marcus or Slade realized that the situation had changed was a rush of air as a body dropped from the ceiling. In the periphery of their vision an armored form fell rapidly toward the ground. The moment of impact was pure chaos, to them. The armored form hit the floor, landing on his feet, knees taking the impact, before one fist finished the journey and smashed into the ruined flooring.



As his fist hit the floor, Power erupted, first driving both Peons away from each other. And then it rebounded against the weakened walls, statuary, and ceiling. There was a rumble of sound, a groaning, creaking, shearing sound. And then Slade's vision was obscured as tons of stone collapsed in the tunnel, small openings forming in the walls but the hall almost completely choked with rubble between he and Marcus. The figure stood, turning toward Marcus, "Pathetic…" the word dripped with dismissal. "I could expect a sorcerer," disgust tinged the word, "to seek an alliance, but a warrior, one who seeks the power of battle among the Sith?"

As the words flowed his hand came up and with barely a whisper the Peon found himself blasted backwards and upwards. He passed the nexu, even as it leapt, claws just missing him. His flight ended jarringly as his lower back met the top of the stump of monolith that had graced the central hall of the Academy. The shock of pain blinded him and the next thing he knew he was in a crumpled heap at the base of the monolith.

When his bleary vision returned the armored form had just directed the nexu over the rubble blocking the corridor and, from the sounds produced after he had whistled, a pair more were headed in that direction. His here and gone companion now had a fight on his hands, one against four nexu. The figure stepped forward, saber hilts dropping into his hands, two red blades flashing to life. "The Guide, the Lords, have given me a great deal of latitude in observing the Peons. Show me you deserve to survive to the end of your Trial here."

Marcus almost laughed. "An alliance?" he asked. "Please, I never agreed to anything of the sort with that Peon. He just assumed that we were working together even though I gave no indication of it. Honestly, I was going to leave him once it became convenient. I don't need him to slow me down. So yes, it would be pathetic... if I had actually been my choice and I had any intention of going along with it." He looked at the figure, recognizing him. "A young Darth Malgus, I presume."

A cold smile crossed Malgus's face, "There is the spark of spirit a warrior must hold dear. There is a reason our kind make up the backbone of the Sith. Assassins may reduce the numbers of our foes, their leaders, but cannot take and hold gains. Sorcerers can twist reality and create monstrosities to do battle but cannot take and hold territory. Only warriors can do this."

His wrists spun and the sabers twirled in alternating circles, "Should you prove yourself you may find yourself accepted as a warrior but before you can do that," Power hummed in the air around him, "I believe I told you to show me that you desire to survive that long." The tips of the sabers drew sparks from the stone as they slid across it before he took another step closer to the Peon.

Marcus still held his electroblade as he assumed a defensive position. "So I am fighting a ghost then?" he asked Malgus. His lips formed into a smile. "This should be interesting."

One saber's blade came whipping at Marcus's head, the sizzling sound of plasma filling the air even as Malgus snorted. "You are thinking of those nonsense spouting windbags that are Jedi Force Ghosts, boy." The other saber snaked down, seeking to interpose itself between the Peon's legs, slicing back upward.

Marcus ducked under the first blade and leapt back to avoid the second. Thinking fast, he used the Force to blast Malgus with a sand cloud and obscure his vision. Then rather than attack from the front, Marcus called upon the Force to jump over his opponent and swing at his exposed back.

Only to find himself flying toward the ceiling, having been hit by a blast of Force energy as he passed overhead. Below him he could see the cloud and then the spinning form of Malgus as the spirit leapt, arrowing toward his now descending form, blades arcing as though to chop through him at several angles in rapid succession.

Marcus held his electroblade to deflect Malgus' blades as they made contact, then Marcus pushed off Malgus to land on the ground some distance away.

"You know, I have a lot of admiration for you," Marcus told Malgus. "Especially for the Sacking of Coruscant, the day that the Jedi Temple fell. This really is a great honor."

Malgus smiled, "That was a good day, satisfying. You have skill. I can see that, even in the short exchange. But do you have the will?" There was a pause, "What say you, Guide?"

There was a shimmer to the air on the stump of monolith that Marcus had hit with his back. A form appeared, the same as the hologram that had greeted him. "I believe that is your choice to decide, Malgus. You are the warrior between us. If he doesn't pass your test then he doesn't proceed. It is that simple. And don't think I didn't know you deliberately threw him where you did." It said in a flat tone that ended with a snort of laugh.

Malgus nodded, "You have yet to have earned a saber, Peon. Skill without the tools can be bested by even a poorer foe. Promise me that you will call my name and face me once you have earned your saber and you may pass."

Marcus thought about it... and nodded. "I promise," he said.

The sabers deactivated. Malgus nodded in response, "I will hold you to your word. Pass, young one and find if you can reach the goal you seek."

The Guide dropped from the monolith, somehow his cloak not flaring as he did. He landed without a sound, next to Malgus. Turning toward Marcus, "You have choices, the left hand hall is blocked but the hall to the right is open, as is the one at the back of the hall. None of them are simple to traverse but still the choice must be made."

Marcus nodded and knelt down, putting his hand on the ground as he considered his choices and got a feeling of the area. Once he had made his decision, he stood up and walked down the hall to the right.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @darthbernael (As GM’s Emperor and High Lord) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough - to observe the peons in action)

 

Character Sheet - Triple Approved



Name: Prisoner F10765 - Raul
Age: 23
Species: Human
Homeworld: Coruscant

Height: 6' 3"
Weight: 250lbs
Gender: Male
Physical attributes: Due to Raul's intense workout routine and training, he has an incredibly powerful build
Weapons: One Electroblade
Occupation: Sith Peon
Abilities: Basic force abilities I.E Force Push, Pull, Etc.
Clothing: Light armour, boots, gloves, and a helmet

Bio: Raul's true story begins with his fall, his most well-kept secret. A deeply personal story, as all are, he let's no one know about this. All that matters, is the massacre that followed is what landed him in a high-security prison starship.

After the massacre he inflicted during his fall, Raul was caught by Imperial forces and imprisoned on a high-security prison starship, where he awaited his death sentence. Constant nightmares followed him while he was here. He was left alone to his thoughts, his intense jealousy that led to his fall and deep seething hatred. He channeled this, and spent the entire time in the prison following an intense workout routine.

After several years, as he was incarcerated at the age of 20, while being escorted to his death, he broke free of his chains, and slaughtered the guards around him.

What followed was unspeakable. Reports that came out after he escaped would detail the most horrific deaths, with limbs strewn throughout the ship.

He escaped, using a personal starfighter left unguarded. His skill was beyond promising, as their was evidence that he possessed force capabilities, and a great amount of unstable emotions.

And so, the Sith found him, and Raul, a feared convict of the Empire, arrives at Korriban to face new trials...

---
Raul
Sith Academy, Korriban

Korriban...

The blinding, confusion, and deafening was lifted from Raul as he exited the shuttle. He knew of this place. Not well, as his education was limited, but with his new path in life he had learned of it.

He looked around, a grimace upon his face as he took in the ancient visage of the Sith Academy. The instructions given to him were heeded, and he took no time in moving towards the entrance of the Academy.

The shuttle left, leaving him behind, meaning that there was no chance of turning back now. Of course, he had never had the intention to begin with.

He had a moment to gather his thoughts. Of the past years that he hadn't even digested fully. Everything was a blur. Everything he had... was lost. Except for one thing. His hunger for respect. His lust for power.

Of course, his mind was still clouded with dark thoughts. Feelings of regret, sorrow, jealously, anger, and seething hatred.

I chose my path. Now to exceed every expectation given to me. He thought to himself, desperately trying to escape the nightmare that was his mind and redirect his attention to the task ahead of him.

It was time for his first task.

@darthbernael @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125 (As GM’s Emperor and High Lord) (@Darth_wanderguard, @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29, @DarthIshyZ, @E. L.Knight, @Nehru_Amidala, @Dagobahsystem, @WookieeRage, @Snokers, @PCCViking, @Darth Cocytus, @Silvertough)