Faction Born From Shadow (Legion of the Crimson Star)

[Garrick Skorr]

Objective: Address the Legion
Location: Sith Temple, Malachor
Equipment: Saberstaff
Tags: Lord Kalrath Eschara Ren Aliris Tremiru Saramiah

Garrick stood in his private quarters. The walls were of old stone, ancient and held the dark side deep within its cracks. Even now he could feel the dark side run for miles, and it would often feel as if the ground he stood on was a beating dark heart. He should have been used to it by now, but still the shadow proved to be ever so elusive. He felt enveloped by the dark walls that sheltered him, and at times he could hear what he thought of as whispers. It would have been no surprise that the Shadow constantly left an echo from the past that continued to this very day. How long had he been on this world? Years, decades perhaps? It’s been so long and still he found a strange comfort to be within this dark world.

The ruin of the Sith Temple was home to many, many of which he had opened the eyes of in the aftermath of the Second Great Hyperspace War. All used to be against his very beliefs but with time, and persuasion he had helped in finding the way, and now the being known as the Crimson Archon was ready to reveal the Legion. He looked himself in the mirror, tracing the jagged deformities of his scarred face, and remembered how he was cursed and banished by his own people. Remembering it all had caused a surge through the shadow as he saw the mirror slowly start to crack. As the mirror was about to shatter the door would open, and what appeared to be an old man approached Skorr flanked by two red armored Legionaries. “Archon… I believe we are ready.” The old man was clad in dark robes similar to that of the Jedi, and not uncommon robes of the Sith. His head was bowed as if to give some respect to Skorr not to look at his deformities. The pensive gaze that caused the mirror to slowly shatter had stopped. He didn’t look at the man addressing him, and only turned his head away to grasp his helmet.

Slowly Garrick would turn and his face was covered by his helmet. Slowly snapping into place with a hiss. “Is everyone gathered?” Came a dark voice synthesized by the modulated voice from the Helm’s speech functions. “Yes, I believe they are out by the main ziggurat. They are eagerly expecting you, Archon.” The man said with a slow bow as Garrick started to walk forward slowly his crimson cape billowing as he walked. “The time has come… Let’s begin!” He said with a hint of sadistic enthusiasm. “Yes, my Archon this way.” He said the old man taking the lead for Garrick to the makeshift stage set up on the temple ziggurat for the gathering. He took the ancient turbo lift and the closer he got to the gathering he could feel the energies swirl within the Force. He sensed many that were eager, curious to see what this day would bring.

The Turbolift would arrive at the ziggurat towards a makeshift podium. Banners hung carrying the Legion insignia of a red star, others had carried the half hand of the Legion as a testament of both loyalty and the price of traitors. The Archon was silent as aboard the podium he was surrounded by Legionaries, Knights of Ren and Masters of the Dark. The crowd was numerous all spread out among the ashened surface all around him. All of them stood in awe and watched with curiosity as what was happening and what would this be all about.

The gathering was silent as was all else, until Garrick spoke his voice booming throughout the crowd. “My faithful! My beautiful friends! You all must be wondered why the Archon comes to greet you here today? I’ve gathered you all, as I’ve shown you the way… I’ve healed your pain and understand it when no one else does. The galaxy suffers like you all have suffered. It is my great hope that here today, we show the galaxy the depths the suffering has caused, today we show the pain, the scars that have been left on us all without a second thought!” He said slightly shouting, already his tone dripped with passion for how he felt among those that followed him.

The voices in the crowd slowly started to murmur which caused Garrick to continue. “For too long you have been living in a galaxy at the whim of two sides.” He said as he slowly paced back and forth among the stage. “The Jedi say that they are of this galaxy to protect you, to save you from the evils of the dark side, yet what have they done to prove this? Once they vanquish the Sith they come back once more! Or, an even worse threat comes where blades are drawn and what of the Sith? The Sith say they only want what is best for all of you!” He paused emphasizing his point by pointing his index finger towards the crowd. “In the end they promise to break you from chains, but fail to mention that you are forever chained to them. To follow blindly without power gained from within…” He paused as the whispering of the crowd slowly started to grow heated.

“Where does this leave all of you? Nothing more than bantha ripe for the slaughter. Both sides of these tricksters and liars end up killing everything you know of, leaving you without home, nor bonds of fellowship and all of it claimed in knowing what’s best for you.”

He paused his speech nodding to the old man who stood at a control console. Typing up commands where one would access the holonet for broadcasting, and other would bring two empty turbolift platforms slowly rising to the stage. As each turbolift arose showed a being, bloody, bruised and tortured. Both of which looked to be from the New Jedi Order and Sith Orders respectively.

“Perhaps these two beings think they know what best, but none will have the care nor the love I have for you all. These false idols are nothing compared to the power of shadow. The shadow that makes the many strong. Today we shall enlighten the galaxy, now consume the ashes and see what the Shadow shows of these two heretics and the crimes they possess.” He said holding a powdery substance within his gloved hands. The Ashes of Malachor. Slowly he would instruct them to inhale the dust and behold what visions they would see.

 

[Lord Kalrath]

Malachor
Tags: Aliris Tremiru , Garrick Skorr , Others...

​

Malachor...

It was here that he was betrayed for the first time. A final push for victory over the Mandalorian crusaders, one which would ultimately be sullied by the actions of one man. Kalrath held no hatred towards the Mandalorians, surprisingly. They fought with strength, honor... power. They were not the ones who had turned heel and ran that day.

Kai'el had. Dillon was the one man who had matched the drive and ambition that had burned so hotly in the heart of the man once called Set. The day his rival left him to face Malachor alone was the day that he died. Only Kalrath remained.

“Where does this leave all of you? Nothing more than bantha ripe for the slaughter. Both sides of these tricksters and liars end up killing everything you know of, leaving you without home, nor bonds of fellowship and all of it claimed in knowing what’s best for you.”

< An interesting angle, > Kalrath mused, sparing a glance to the young Tremiru, who was also present. < I've lived for many years... It is not a claim that is hollow. I was both. Both abandoned me. Perhaps the path to strength then is to break the cycle. I suppose you shall come to see for yourself in due time... >

Aliris was a strange case. Seeking power in relics, wandering the galaxy nearly homeless, fueled by the anger of those who had wronged her. She was Sith, as was he, but perhaps it may not be so clear to her if the Sith had left her behind or not.

Kalrath was certain of his angle, however. When given the invitation to take in the ashes of those he had very likely fought along side or against at the battle of Malachor, the old Sith didn't hesitate. He lowered his mask, his grizzled face remaining shrouded still, but visible enough to suggest great injury. He breathed in the ashes, giving a sharp exhale that was potent with force energy. Then, with no further action, he returned the mask tightly to his face...

...And waited for the visions to take his mind.

 

[Aliris Tremiru]

"I don't care about cycles."

Aliris watched. Listened. This wasn't what she'd expected to come across. This Archon, this group, wouldn't they technically hate both her and Kalrath? She frowned as she crossed her arms where she sat. But.. She listened regardless. And the sense behind the words was something she couldn't actually dismiss or ignore. The Ashlan's desecrated her home because of the Sith and the Jedi's inability to actually defeat them.

She hated the Jedi. She hated the Ashlans. But was it as simple as just blaming them, and not the Sith who continued to bring that fate onto themselves?

".. But I will see this for myself, yeah."

Lord Kalrath | Garrick Skorr

 

[Detritus Ren]

Objective: Consume the Ashes of Malachor
Location: Sith Temple, Malachor
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tags: Aliris Tremiru Lord Kalrath Garrick Skorr Eschara Ren


Jin Kyrel was one of those that stood on the stage. He had taken a pensive gaze in watching the Lord Archon, the Supreme Ren give his speech declaring a new order arises. He had remembered not long ago, he was a broken animal on the world of Dathomir his mind shattered from possession by the Sith. Hind mind shattered, a former Imperial Knight of the Empire reduced to a traitor and an oath breaker. He lived in exile until the Knights of Ren found him, broken and defeated since the destruction of Exegol. He knew very little what happened. He didn’t know what became of his father, who almost achieved complete power. He didn’t know that his father died a second time against the Jedi. He could still feel hear his aura and a words that shouted “Avenge me!” Screamed him from a deep sleep every night.

Now, here he stood among the mysterious figure they called Lord Archon was speaking to those ruined by both Jedi and Sith. Jin said nothing, he cradled ashes sithin his gloved hands, as many were to take the ashes of the fallen Jedi and Sith, and once consumed they would see what was the shape of things to come. All Jin desired was for his name to be restored, perhaps by following in his father’s footsteps he would gain that much. Standing along with the other Ren he remained silent.


He found the Archon to be charismatic. He spoke with a passion unlike any other, and when he had witnessed the figures of Jedi and Sith arose from the empty platforms a wide grin spread across his face. Absolution would be his in time, soon the galaxy would know the full might of the Legion. When all were directed to consume the ash, he brought it to his nose and took a sniff.

His mind was immediately overwhelmed by disembodied figures, sabers of different colors could be seen. All dueling each other, screams and fires roared in his very head. In one moment he saw himself adorned in Imperial Knight armor, the next dressed in the dark garb he was in now. It all culminated in the shape of a woman with a violet lightsaber, a dark shroud covered him and a bloody half hand riding from the smoke of the flames. It had all come to a quick head when he found himself back to where he was.

The dark side was coursing through his veins, and he felt the darkness surge through him. His mind felt ever so clear, as he looked on to the rest of the crowd that snapped back as if witnessing some realization.