Private An Audience with the Devil (Nwul)

[Darth Carnifex]

The youths were arrayed in columns, all separated by age and gender. Handlers carrying various inspectional instruments walked up and down the rows, vigorously inspecting each of the children before passing onto the next. They were made to stand out in the sweeping wind and the lashing rain, arrayed in an open-air courtyard within the shadow of the Sith citadel looming above. The handlers wore macabre masks shaped like leering faces, segregating the children from viewing the adults meticulously scrutinizing them as being made from the same flesh and blood as they. Any child that sought to move out of the line, or did anything that was deemed unacceptable, was ruthlessly censured by the crackling end of an electro-prod.

Above them, the Dark Lord of the Sith watched impassively. These children were among the first to be given as tribute by the Sith client states being established adjacent to the Stygian Caldera, of which the Sith ruled indirectly through appointed Directories staffed entirely by members of the Order. They were not given willingly, not by the families at any rate, and many had been forcefully separated by electro-bayonet point. Many, if not most, would not survive the tribulations that were to come, and that was the point. Only the strongest could inherit the mantle of Sith, and thus these children -- gifted of the Force -- would be made to suffer and die until those strongest amongst them would rise.

If they all died? Then they would find more.

There was always more.

"Sire?" came the calm, even voice of one of the Dark Lord's pages. Carnifex turned to regard them, His baleful eyes drilling down into them like a spotlight. After a moment of regaining composure, the page continued; "My Lord, the one designated Nwul has arrived at the citadel. He's been placed in the waiting gallery as per your instructions."

"Good," replied the Dark Lord, His voice booming and chilling to the bone. "I shall receive him in the throne room. Hold him for a half hour."

The page bowed reverently, "As you will, so shall it be made reality."

Carnifex moved inside from the balcony, leaving the children in the courtyard below to face their inevitable fate alone. It was not that great of a distance to the throne room, which occupied the very heart of the citadel -- mirroring that the citadel occupied the heart of New Kaas City. It was a massive chamber of stone and steel, the floor a glossy obsidian split through with seams of gold. The throne was massive, well-designed to accommodate the Dark Lord's immense stature, and on either side of it were flanked great statues of two Sith Lords. On the Dark Lord's right was Darth Moridin, exquisitely recreated through artisan stonework. On His left was a mysterious figure, partly shrouded by hood and cloak. Few knew it, but this was Darth Mori, the Dark Lord's late cousin who so tragically perished at Exegol.

The Dark Lord ascended the dais steps, placing Himself upon the throne with all the regal glory of an immortal emperor.

And waited.

Darth Nwul ​

 

[Darth Nwul]

In the language of the ancient Sith, the word Nwul meant 'Peace'. He had taken the name after his powers had ascended to the next level, his way of declaring the he had become Sith. After his isolation and meditation he had decided to return to Sith Space. It was while he was exploring the ruins on one of the various sith worlds that the men in robes had come. At first there had been a stand-off between his cultists and the newcomers, but Nwul had been uninterested in violence between Sith. They had been given the chance to explain themselves.

It hadn't been an explanation. It was a command. The one once known as Wake Nayne, who now called himself Nwul, was to present himself before the Dark Lord of the Sith; Carnifex.

It wasn't hard to figure what had happened. Nwul hadn't been subtle during the reclamation of Korriban. He had very publicly consumed the minds, essences, and memories of those sith specters and living ashlan. He devoured them, his power growing with each feast. His powers had been in flux during the battle at the Caldera, but it was beginning to settle. Now he had processed his meals and added them to his strength. Word had spread about the strange sith with a glowing disposition, a smile on his face and an aura of purest dark, untainted by rage and hatred. One who radiated the full spectrum of emotions.

He was either a curiosity or abomination for the Dark Lord. But now that he'd drawn the man's attention, there was no walking away.

So here he sat, his daughters having been instructed to remain on the Aftermath at the docking bay rather than attend him. He was alone. His eyes shut in meditation. His black cassock robes and red sash cut a trim figure as his head rolled back. He consumed the memories and emotions of the many lives he'd devoured. Each one an addition to his powers. Their love, their pain, their rage, their hope, their joy, their sorrow. He let the full spectrum of emotions blossom within him, solidifying his foundation. He drew up his might as best he could. He knew well this man was disgusted by weakness.

Very well. His empathy had clued him in on the ceaseless suffering in the rain outside. He drank it in anyway, devouring it. A true sith did as they pleased and had the power to do so with impunity. If Carnifex wished to do these things, he had the right until someone stopped him. While wanton cruelty wasn't Nwul's style, he would respect it.

The attendant called on him after a half hour, shorter than he'd expected. He figured the Dark Lord of the Sith would make Nwul wait forever, but he was pleased to see otherwise. He followed the attendant to the doors to the throne room, he was not given instruction as to how to greet the man, but instead abandoned at the doors. Nwul would enter alone. He smirked, what a power move. He had to respect the impression that left, Carnifex knew what he was doing.

Nwul entered the room and strode down the darkened hall, admiring the marble floor and columns on either side. The inky, thick, chill of hate and the power of the dark side suffused the air. It brushed against the blazing inferno of Nwul's own aura of emotion, pure feeling, it was like a solitary bonfire in the middle of Hoth. The pressure was incredible. Even so, he kept his legs moving until he stood where the light of the chamber intersected, putting spotlight on the person visiting while leaving the Dark Lord concealed in shadow. Another brilliant tactic.

Nwul let out a breath, his wide smile never leaving his face as he bowed once before straightening up, his hand over his heart as he looked up into that dark place. If anyone could see the twisting lines of madness behind Nwul's eyes, it was Carnifex. The weaving threads coiled together and churned, pretending to be something sane. An eldritch nightmare given flesh or man twisted into something worse. There was something deeply wrong there, regardless.

"Nwul, Steward of the Dark Side, greets the Dark Lord of Dromund Kaas, Darth Carnifex. You honor me with these summons, my lord," He said, a tone of mischief and play in his voice, "How may I be of service to the Sith?"

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The atmosphere in the throne room was intense. A glacial chill hung heavy in the air, as though all the warmth had been driven from the chamber. The floor was a hypnotic starscape of black obsidian intercut with spiraling golden nebulae. All of the large geometric pillars lining the room were inscribed with various runic patterns, only some of them legible in any known tongue; the others coming from long extinct languages. Despite the room's vastness, the walls appeared to creep closer and closer the nearer one drew to the throne, which loomed ominously at the car end of the room.

Harsh light shone down on youthful Sith as he neared the dais the throne was perched upon, bathing them in total illumination while their surroundings remained half-shrouded in darkness. This made it difficult to visually discern the features of the throne's occupant, as well as any who may be lurking in the shadows; biding their time. To keep those who sought the Dark Lord's audience in a state of uncertainty and anxiety was an old trick of the Sith, passed down through many generations. An endless dramatic play, theatrics and illusions abound.

"Welcome," boomed the Dark Lord's voice, reflected back by the finely tuned acoustics of the room's walls and ceiling. It was quite possible to hear a whisper from all the way across the room when seated upon the throne, ensuring that none in the Dark Lord's immediate presence could conspire in such a manner. Again, another ancient trick of despots and tyrants long passed into dust. "Your greeting is seen and received, Nwul of the Sith. Likewise, I extend mine own salutations, Dromund Kaas welcomes thee."

Every syllable that was uttered hence from the Dark Lord's mouth was grating not only to the ears, but to every sense. It was like someone had taken a dull knife and was slowly drawing it down their spinal column, emphasizing every break as the blade skipped from one vertebrae to the next. It was wholly unnatural. One could not overcome this unnerving sensation, they could only grow accustomed to it. "Long has my eye set it's gaze upon you, Nwul of the Sith. From the moment Strosius' elegant but misguided words entered your ears, to when you first beheld Caedes' shifting form, I have been watching you. Know that my eyes see all, Nwul of the Sith, and nothing is kept from beyond my gaze."

A slow smile crept over the Dark Lord's face, visible even through the penumbra of darkness surrounding Him. "Your service to the Sith has yet to be defined, but there are many ways one can serve. The power which you possess may be of considerable use. Elucidate me as to what you believe it to be, Nwul of the Sith."

Darth Nwul ​

 

[Darth Nwul]

The acoustics in here were magnificent. Nwul's lips widened in a smile as he appreciated the theatrics. He stood in the spotlight, the shadows around him seeming to inch closer. His eyes gleamed with curiosity. Each word the Dark Lord of Dromund Kaas spoke was something to pay close attention to. Nothing was out of place, everything was calculated. Everything had a meaning. The words had an icy chill to them, like a blade cutting against bone. He felt the force wound in his abdomen scream at him to retaliate, to return like for like, presence for presence. But he kept his cool, even as he trembled with excitement. The unnerving feeling twisting into something close to euphoria.

This was power.

Nwul's eyes rose to face the Dark Lord as the words spilled forth in deliberate fashion. Like the sound of a loom clacking again and again. Final.

So Carnifex had been watching him for a while? He hadn't been a curiosity when he'd killed his former master. Or when he'd wandered the galaxy. But the moment his powers became associated with the Sith. The Dark Lord was watching him from afar. Fascinating that his gaze could be cast so far. Something Nwul aspired to one day. Perhaps. But there was no time to think about that. The Dark Lord wanted to know what Nwul possessed. The truth. There was no hiding it from him. Of course. Nwul had to be honest, even if it were to stir offense. Such was how this conversation would go.

Nwul's head rose, pride on his face at the small compliment given; "My lord does my gift deference," He said smoothly, setting aside the michief and playfullness of before. Now wasn't the time. "I possess the ability to consume the knowledge, essence, and wisdom of others. Their memories become mine, and the emotions tied to them mine, every emotion an addition to my power. I see clearly where many do not. My eyes are open, Dark Lord. I experience and revel in the full spectrum of emotion and it fuels me in ways that hate and rage simply cannot compare to," Nwul clenched his fist, bearing his teeth, his golden eyes untainted by the red of sith hatred.

"I have reflected on the sith code, its story, it's legacy, I have seen dozens of temples and tombs, studied their depths, retained their knowledge in a way an archaeologist simply could not. I consumed the specters that lay in wait, adding their understanding to my own..." He let the words hang. The implication clear. He understood the ways of the dark side with perspectives that few could match, as far as he was concerned. Many different angles and comparsions that allowed him a broader view. He was untainted by dogma. Pure.

"I serve the Dark Side, my Lord. As its servant, I spread its word and see that the sith are awakened to their full strength. I whistfuly dream of the days when the Sith were a culture, a people. When we created art, when we were more than just an endless cycle of blood and failure. I am not wrong," He breathed, looking down at his hands, "My purpose is to be Steward, I forsaw it in my isolation. Guiding post. Servant. Attendant to the Sith. Ensuring that the sith are strong and united. That is my role."

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord listened in quiet contemplation, silently absorbing everything that Nwul relayed about their powers, their actions, and their intentions therein. He steepled His fingers as the lad spoke, resting His lips against His two index fingers as He placed both elbows on the armrests of His throne. Despite the overwhelming disparity in power and authority between them, the Dark Lord did not give the appearance of an aloof, disinterested despot. Rather, the contrary appeared true, and He was giving the young Sith His full undivided attention, truly listening to every single word and the meaning hidden within.

After the boy finished, the Dark Lord was silent, obviously thinking. When He did speak, He moved both hands to rest at His sides on the armrests. "Most intriguing, Nwul of the Sith. You have satisfied my curiosity and given me much to ruminate. I do indeed believe that your powers can be a great boon to the Order, and that your desire to serve the Sith can be used for greater ends. My Empire is young, as you can see, and it's institutions are not yet fully formed. I have need of diplomats, cultural ministers, and an endless litany of other functionaries. Your powers could be put to good use in the sphere of culture, to revive what was thought lost, and to ensure that my Empire's standards do not stray from the path."

But the Dark Lord was not finished, "Then again, they could also be put to use in the spheres of diplomacy. To consume the knowledge and wisdom of others is a great ability, and it would be well-suited to bring unruly systems in line before they can be driven to armed revolt. It would also give my Empire an advantage over our enemies, and allow us to know their darkest secrets. I have need of both, Nwul of the Sith, but you are but a singular entity. As much as I exalt the Sith who serve within my Empire, I will not allow the holding of multiple offices. Too much power accrued in the wrong hands can weaken the Empire." He knew that from experience.

"I would seek your thoughts on this matter, Nwul of the Sith, for it does greatly determine your future."

Darth Nwul ​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Nwul crossed his arms behind his back and watched the Dark Lord carefully, he didn't dare try to pierce the veil of the force around the man with his gaze. He wasn't strong enough yet. One day, though, he would be able to look the man in the eyes. He could feel it, somewhere in the depths of his soul. The Dark Side told him it was true. For now, though, he would do as he was told. His vision of coming here had so far been correct, so he prepared himself for whatever trials awaited him. He took a breath and held his head high as the man on the throne reflected on his words.

Carnifex reflected on the importance of their lost culture. Sith Art, Poetry, Philosphy, Architecture. The way of the ancient Sith that was more than just a war machine, but a true people, a culture. Nwul's smile became genuine. Yes, that was crucial for an empire. The empire needed to be more than the enemy of it's foes, it needed to be something whole. At the same time, the idea of reaching out to the enemies of the sith and acting as that diplomatic barrier, the defining line that halted unnecessary conflict within and without. He wondered if that was his destiny; to serve the Sith in that role.

Carnifex was right, though, that isolating multiple offices in a single person was dangerous, save for the emperor himself. Nwul considered his response carefuly before letting out a breath; "The Dark Side guided me to come here, I chose to follow your agents when they summoned me to your feet, Dark Lord," Nwul began, looking up at the man again, "I agree with you that the Sith need to relearn their culture, embrace it, and find unity in their identity. I also agree that a voice is needed to stay the hand of our enemies and root out their weaknesses. More than that, to remind the Sith what we stand for and that our purpose is greater than the infighting that came before."

Nwul exhaled, "I do not want to be merely a diplomat, my Lord. Nor do I want to be merely a researcher of culture. I am a devout of the Dark Side, it's servant as well as it's master. One day I will take the title of Lord and then Darth. I have seen it," Nwul said calmly, "I will be a priest, a spiritual leader, if you wish me to approach our enemies as a spiritual voice. I will do it. If you ask me to spread our beliefs and culture as I know it from studying our people. I will do it. My master is the Dark Side, my lord. And it wants me here, now, and so I will serve."

Nwul didn't so much as blink, he kept his eyes on the man, letting the purity of his fanaticism show.

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"The path of spiritual enlightenment is a path few of our kind tread, for we tend to place too much emphasis on physical or magical power and ability. But it is a necessary path, we court destruction should we neglect and forsake it." But, of course, the inverse was also true. If the Sith embraced the spiritual to the detriment of the others, then they too would wither and fall. It was good to see such ambitious Sith seek this path, to immerse themselves in the theology and philosophy of the Dark Side. The Dark Lord contemplated this as He looked to Nwul, as if measuring His spirit and judging whether or not it was worthy; like the ancient death gods of the old religions of Korriban.

Then, He did something perhaps unexpected. He arose from His throne, standing tall silhouetted against it, and then He began to descend the dais steps. His every movement was purposeful, each step like a resounding thunderclap, and nothing He did was without point or in excess. It was then that the light cast upon His grim countenance, and revealed the face previously obscured by shadow and gloom. The burning eyes were there, but they were now adequately framed by a handsome face with a sharp angular jaw covered in beard-hair. The hair upon His scalp was black, slicked back, and reached down beyond His shoulder blades. Upon His brow was the symbol of the Order, a crimson sun wreathed by four gusting flames.

"A Kissai you shall be," He was using the ancient Sith translation for priest this time, "One who shall see that our people's mighty culture return to it's former glory, but not just in these worlds we hold so dearly, but across the galaxy. No longer shall we confine ourselves to one corner of this galaxy, all shall hear our message. It shall take root in the foundations of our enemy's most sacred worlds, and rise up to topple their haughty temples and pillars of steel and glass. This shall be your destiny, Nwul of the Sith."

Now the Dark Lord stood on equal grounding with Nwul, though He towered over him substantially.

"Should you possess the will to seize it."

Darth Nwul ​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Nwul nodded along with what the Dark Lord had to say. He was right, of course. The Sith had abandoned much in the pursuit of power. While power was a great ideal to strive for as a sith, the Sith were a people, a culture, and there was more to it than self gain. Balance was not in the heart of a Sith, though, rather that they took to extremes and in those extremes found a simulation of balance. Nature was a constant wave of rising and falling, flux, it was unreasonable to expect beings that embraced the will of nature to be balanced.

He looked the great being before him in the eyes, feeling the man measure him. He didn't back down at this point, he needed to keep himself.

That was when he descended, and Nwul felt the first bead of sweat drop down the back of his neck. The grim countenance before him the image of a proper Sith, if one that still bathed in the darker emotions rather than the full spectrum. A philosophical debate they could have once Nwul had risen further up the ranks. This man before him was a true zealot, or guised himself as such, it was hard to tell and Nwul did not dare know the man's mind, yet. He had a long way to go.

The declaration from the Dark Lord was all he needed to hear.

He raised his hand to his heart, "Slave and God, Dark Lord of Korriban, thank you for your blessing," He said with delight in his eyes, "I will spread the word of the sith with a smile in my heart on all worlds. Not even the Republic shall be free of my voice," He elated, "You have my word as Steward of the Dark Side."

There, he stood at even footing for even the barest moment with a being well beyond his scope, the moment was thrilling. He savored it, bottling the extreme feelings that boiled beneath his blood and acknowledging them, converting them into fuel. He was excited, terrified, joyful, jealous, and anxious. He didn't reject his feelings, he felt them openly and without restraint. Fear of emotions was the downfall of all Sith. He would teach his peers this truth.

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Good," reverberated the Dark Lord's voice, "Very good."

The Dark Side swelled between the two of them, the very air charged with electricity and reeking of ozone. He could sense the eagerness of the man before Him, the hungering desire to pursue this destiny that has been laid before him. It would serve the Empire well, for it required men and women of such fervent caliber to see it strengthened. For there would come a time when He would no longer guide it, and they would look to new leadership for the future. The Empire only comprised a portion of His designs for the galaxy, but it was not His ultimate aim.

"Then go forth, Nwul of the Sith, and bring truth to the galaxy. Enlighten all who hearken to your words, and destroy those who reject our truths. All who stand against us must be eradicated, for if one remains they shall poison the faithful." Such was the way of the Dark Side, those who embrace the path shall be elevated to new heights, and those who stray or avoid the path shall be smote low. Few would entrust such an important task to what amounted to a stranger, but the Dark Lord could see the conviction in the young man's eyes, and knew His heart to be true.

The Dark Lord reached into His cloak, and produced a small hexagonal disc. Upon it's surface was engraved the hex-dagger of the Sith Eternal, surrounding by the flaming halo of the Sith sun. He moved to place the disc in Nwul's hands. "Take this mark, and all who gaze upon it shall know you speak with my voice. Those who turn from it are our foes."

Darth Nwul ​

 

[Darth Nwul]

The surge of power between them drove Nwul close to the point of exstacy. His eyes brightening with delight. He could feel the Dark Side's presence here, the energy in the air, the emotions swirling around them, the power. The Dark Side. This was the god he worshipped. Not something mundane encapsulated by flesh. It swirled around one of it's chosen sons, Carnifex, and annointed him in its aura. As long as he held true to the ways of the dark side, he would be strong and protected by the force.

The Dark Lord's orders came and Nwul smiled graciously, "I will stand in the halls of power on Coruscant and speak the truth of the force. I will sing the song of nature's fury before the Jedi who reject her purity. I will walk the streets of Ziost and see to it that not a single ancient sith Playwright is forgotten. Kizda, Mirokuul, Wajabeht, their poetry will bring the empire closer to it's cultural heart."

It was then that the man produced the hexagonical disk and Nwul took it in his hands like a treasure. He held it to his heart and in exchange extended his hand to the mighty Sith. "You honor me, may our God and our Slave, the Dark Side, guard you and serve you well. Dark Lord of Dromund Kaas." He offered his blessing to the greater Sith, his only available gesture of goodwill.

With that, he stepped back five paces before turning away, he did not dare utter words of farewell. Sith do not say goodbye.

Darth Carnifex