Faction Breath of Ash (open to WotS members)

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Scholars aboard the Pomojema have rediscovered an ancient Sith ritual that has not been practiced for centuries.

This ritual can strengthen Sith of any rank. Its provenance is Palpatine by way of Maul. It is immensely painful and equally empowering.

It explains much.

I invite you to participate.

Ashin Varanin, Darth Desmius

THE POMOJEMA - MOBILE DARK SIDE ACADEMY OF HIGHER LEARNING
TASH-TARAL ORBIT​

As ever, the room stank of smoke and cleaning chemicals. The place had a deep chill, as if the dull phrik walls ate heat as well as light.

The Pomojema's students - knights and lords in their own right - gathered on the observation tiers with their instructors. Today Ashin stood on the central podium, the duelling and demonstration platform. A large stasis chamber brooded beside her. Whatever it held inside resonated with the dark side of the Force, and was not alive or active in any meaningful way. Precognition would reveal no particular risk of betrayal or entrapment. This opportunity, while closely guarded, was exactly as advertised.

"Any questions before we begin?"


Darth Vinaze Vora Kaar Darth Voyance Kascalion Giedfield - and any other WOTS members who'd like to participate.

​

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Ashin Cardé Varanin / Vora Kaar / / Darth Voyance / Kascalion Giedfield
As with any ship in the Warlords fleet, Vinaze felt uneasy. People were not his specialty. If he did not hold the former empress in some high esteem, he likely never would have set foot on the Pomojema. Like with everywhere he went, he kept close to the walls and the shadows, sneaking more than walking.

The noise bothered him the most. Not the noise of the ship, or of the students, but of the force. His strong clairvoyance was often a gift, but the presence of so many beings so powerful in the force was... overwhelming. He had just come out of weeks of isolation, as was common, surrounded only by mindless thralls or the occasional acolyte too afraid to speak to him. In just the journey from his shuttle to Ashin's meeting he nearly snapped into a frenzy.

Controlling his mind and his emaciated corporeal form was becoming harder. That was why he had accepted Varanin's invitation. Pain was no issue. It had made him so much stronger in the past.

As he entered the meeting room he immediately caught site of Ashin standing on the central platform, but his attention was quickly draw away. He couldn't keep himself from staring at the stasis chamber next to her. It pulsated, calling to him. Yet, it felt empty. Even the most power beings in the darkside, ones who emitted a tantalizing aura such as this, felt alive. Instead of the darkside burning with passionate emotion, it was still.

Vinaze remained silently fixated on the aura as the other Sith arrived. Ashin asked for questions. Vinaze had many, but he preferred to get those answers from whatever he was about to experience...

 

[Romund Sro]

The fledgling would be lord felt it necessary to at least be here. An invitation to at the very least witness a seeming one to one conversion of pain to power was something he couldn't pass up to say the least. Even if found other Sith to be some of the most unbearable individuals the galaxy had to offer. The code he didn't have a problem with. It's just some of the people it attracted he believed it could do without.

Romund was fairly early to the gathering. Not really saying anything and keeping to himself if he could. He wore his rather unique brass tinted armor for the occasion, just in case, no other reason really. On his back, holstered, was a mere vibrosword. The technological weapon and similar weapons like it were for the most part all he had access too. Having never gotten around to crafting his own lightsaber yet. Yet this bothered him not for the time being. To compensate he could simple use to force to alter the already devastating weapon further if need be and give it some better durability for a time being.

Romund watched as a newcomer, Darth Vinaze , They too showed interest in the stasis champers as well. Romund himself felt rather wary of the thing more so than any other feeling. It giving him unpleasant memories of being in stasis himself. Waking up weak and confused in an unfamiliar time. The fact it also produced darkside energy possibly told of a dark history, or fate for what was inside of it as well.

Darth Voyance | Ashin Cardé Varanin | Kascalion Giedfield | Vora Kaar

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

Armor: X | Lightsaber: X | Right Arm: X

​

Kascalion was silent as he stood monolithic in that chamber, behind most and keeping to the shadows as was his preferred locale for the time being. Gauntlets crossed over his chest, skull pauldron frowning at those in attendance, spiked pauldron curiously aflame yet producing no heat, and his strangely blue-white gaze fixed upon the man in the center. At least, that is what he was doing physically. Mentally, he was far from the chambers Ashin Cardé Varanin had set for this day's events and far from the objective decided for the Warlords. His mind, as fragmented as it still was, had been geared more towards the past, on the frozen wastes of that ice cube floating in the blackness.

On the fathomless depths with that singular large eye staring up at him.

The battle of Helgard had passed, its victors decided, the Galaxy moving on. He should have been able to move on, but the effects on his arm, the damages influenced by the catalyst that was Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt ...well they had been...unfortunately persistent. A cybernetic arm to replace the one part of his body the alchemists could not fix. That his own body could not regenerate. Indeed, it would serve as a reminder that he had pushed his body too far, even when it was necessary to escape his grave in those waters, to free himself and his foe to live another day. It was the unfortunate truth that even in this body, even in this corpse of undeath, he was still far too weak to even taste the power that he once had as Kavar. But, that was no longer an issue in the way that it used to be. It was now, more or less, a challenge that he had the greatest desire to overcome. One day, he would regain his true body and be rid of this cartoonish skeletal form.

Yet, that singular large eye staring up at him, something he knew could not possibly have been a figment, was more than a challenge. It was as if it had spoken to him to rebuke his words of mockery towards a god ancient and dead to the Helgardi. A god who, at that moment, very well could have been made manifest. A real deity or some beast the Helgardi thought was a deity? He could not be certain on that factor of the equation, but he was sure that he would find out one day. Perhaps after he had reclaimed himself, he would go back to that sea, unforgiving and torrential with its storms, and dare that eye to stare at him once more.

His mind snapped back to attention for the present, and his blue-white gaze looked around for those most noticeable. Darth Vinaze , the Corruptor, had always cut an imposing figure in whatever room he stood in. Six-three, emaciated and even more skeletal than the Devil himself, and serving as the host to magics he had thought long-dead in the modern age. The handiwork of some Sorcerer long before the man entered Kascalion's service. Impressive that he was still standing, to say the least.

But new amongst the faces in the room was a man he knew only by names: Romund Sro , Darth Obsolus. A new acquisition to the Warlords, yet one that had proven his skill rather - almost disturbingly - quickly, made Knight before many others. Perhaps a challenge to Lordship in a few years - or perhaps a few months. Either way, the golden one would prove surely interesting to watch.

Kascalion's attention then turned back to the one in the center, or rather the thing next to him. A stasis chamber, with something of the Dark Side within it. Something that may worsen his condition or in fact better it. Who knows, perhaps this would be the thing that would push back the undeath he found himself in now and revive Kavar from hell. Whatever it was, it reeked of the void and offered a lulling call to the man like an enchanting siren. He would have been compelled to step forward and reach for it if not for his own indomitable will to resist. Instead, he remained still and silent and watched to see what would come of these events.

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"This is the chant. Repeat it throughout the ritual in the privacy of your thoughts. It will give you the focus to endure." Ashin deactivated the stasis chamber. "'Far above, far below. We don't know where we'll fall. Far above, far below. What once was great is rendered small.'"

She opened the stasis chamber, cracked it open top to bottom, revealing two objects. One was a small chest; the other was an incredibly fragile, contorted humanoid figure composed of ash.

"Some of you will recognize this as the remains of a Sith from the ancient Malachor cataclysm. That temple, that place, is the traditional site for this ritual. Just breathing in the ash can induce powerful visions. This ritual goes a step farther. You experience every wound that the Sith felt when the Jedi massacred them at Malachor. You know what was done to our people. You become deeply invested. All that's necessary for this ritual experience to begin is breathing in the ash while clinging to the chant."

She closed and sealed the stasis chamber again, and held up the small chest.

"But we're not going to do that. Make the pilgrimage on your own time. No, we'll be using a different set of remains entirely."

She opened the chest to reveal similar ash. Those assembled would feel deep fury rolling off her.

"The ash of the acolytes killed when New Jedi Order Knights planted firebombs in the academy on Korriban. Make no mistake. Do this and you will know exactly what it's like to be a terrified Sith child and burn alive. You will know cause for hate that most of you have never experienced. And then you will go out and show the galaxy that Sith hate for a reason."

The ash rose into the air in spiralling tendrils. Many of the assembled Sith began to draw those tendrils to themselves and inhale. The sounds of well-controlled pain and fear began to fill the huge chamber.

"There's no shame in a scream today. The deepest experience is the deepest honor. This," Ashin said softly, but in a way that all assembled could hear, "is as close as we come to sacred."


Darth Vinaze Kascalion Giedfield Romund Sro Vora Kaar Darth Voyance - and still open to WotS members who want to participate

​

Spoiler: sources

The collected firebomb arc in the Korriban invasion:

• 43
• 64
• 156
• 180
• 210
• 218
• 267
• 289
• 369
• 375
• 396
• 405
• 408
• 409

Darth Maul (2017)

Republic - Darth Maul

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Ashin Cardé Varanin / Vora Kaar / Darth Voyance / Kascalion Giedfield / Romund Sro

As the chest of ashes was opened, what was once a stillness, like a void in the force, became a roaring fury. Such a shift in the force would be felt deeply by everyone present, no doubt. Even by his master the Dread Lord of the Sith. Kascalion stood tall behind the other Sith on the opposite side of the room. It was rare that the Sith'ari graced the Warlords with his mighty presence.

As Ashin explained the ritual, Vinaze began to recall his extensive studies. Even then, years of burying his nose in the works of the most esoteric Sith lords, he hadn't even found passing mention of what was about to happen.

Perhaps this ritual was lost for a reason. Empathy was unbecoming of a Sith, yet here the defiant Sith Lords who broke from the Empire stood, ready to defy what it meant to be Sith once again.

Tendrils of ash began to float from the chest, pushed out by some unknown force and equally pulled through the air by each eager Sith towards themselves. Vinaze closed his eyes as the ashes entered his body, filling his mouth and nose to the point where he could hardly breath. He repeated the ritual mantra again and again in his mind, focusing on the words and not the choking pain.

Ashin's words began to fade out, like Vinaze was on the cusp of sleep. As she faded out, a new voice faded in. Vinaze's eyes snapped open, but they no longer so the gathering of Sith aboard the Pomojema. The smell of ash was traded for the smell of smoke. His whole body felt different, heavier, though lighter in the force. His hands were no longer boney husks, instead they looked... human. But he had not been human even before his near-death at the hands of the New Imperial sorcerer.

The room shook like an earthquake. The room... where was he? It looked like the academy. Korriban. He was clad in the black robes given to all the acolytes, yet he hadn't been to the academy since he was a teenager. Out of the doorway, bright orange cinders floated down the black hall. A distant scream echoed out.

He took his first step out into the hallway, although he didn't know why. His actions didn't even seem his own. The acrid smell of smoke choked him, yet he continued down the long, unending hallway. At the far end he could see another hall intersecting his own, with acolytes running back and forth. He felt a heat behind him.

He turned to see a wall of thick, black smoke and heard the crackle of flames. It approached behind him about as fast as he walked. There was fear in it. It felt irrational, but somehow he knew that he would die if the smoke caught him. He picked up speed, as did the cloud. He yelled out in terror to the acolytes at the end of the hall, but none stopped or seemed to notice him. Every bounding step made the hall grow ten steps longer.

Tired and weary, unable to continue running through the endless nightmare, Vinaze collapsed to his hands and knees. He shrieked as the cloud of smoke over took him and the heat washed over him. Ever nerve in his body was lit up with anger, like white hot fire.

His vision was completely clouded. The only sense in his entire body was that feeling of deep, deep hatred...

 

[Darth Immortuos]

As the halls of the Pomojema erupted in screams and hallucinations from the ritual that had been shown, Darth Immortuos watched from afar as a tendril was show cased toward himself and as it inched forward he grew curious. A hot arrogance burned from within as his mind compilated the outcome before it happened.

Embracing what came of the ash, The sith lord drew down his hood slightly and did his best to smother his face in the substance. Like a drug addict. Since becoming a construct/host of Blackwing and under going that slow transformation. Immortuos, though he did still have lungs, had no need for their use nor any of his other vital organs. Consumed by the sickness he was, trapped in a permanent suspension of necrotic flesh, muscle and sinew. His body would rot no more than as far as it had now.

A mistake by his part. Had he gotten around to finish the Blackwing ritual sooner he would of still been whole. But Immortality had its price and it was not one he could barter with.

The chant was then whispered.
"Far above, far below. We dont know where we'll fall. Far above, far below. What once was great is now rendered small."

Even where he stood the darkside energy of the ritual fell down apon him and began to take a effect. Due to the sith magic of the ritual and part of its aspects the decrypted lord understood in full that the sudden pain he was experiencing were indeed real and intensifying but also nullified due to his very nature. The Sith lord smirked wide and watched as acolytes, knights and even lords lost composure in the ash. A single eye fell apon Darth Vinaze distinctly as was seen in panic. The Sith was obviously seeing things that were not here and that was a side effect of the ritual Immortuos was not experiencing at all and he knew why that was also.

TO his knowledge the sith ritual functioned with two aspects. Physical and mental. Both working in tandem would produce the desired effected and this was not the case with Nulgath. THe physical was in a state of conflict with the alchemical transformation of blackwing. And the mental well...

While unbeknownst to many. Nulgath, despite the wretched form he was stuck in, was still Epicanthix. Force alterations of mind and perception were innately resisted strongly by the species. A boon and curse at the same time. He could speak and change the perceptions others but he could not receive the same. Something that the lord often wished he could do, If only to hear the voice of his loved ones.

Levitating himself toward the platform below. A agitated sense of additional discomfort belittled the Undead sith lord. Midst the heavy chaos he stuck out like a sore thumb. The chamber was loud and the last portion of what Ashin Cardé Varanin said was lost to him. Removing his hood he approached. " What did you say?" His lipless mouth mawed the words eager to know what was said. A visage of annoyance riddled his features as he waited for a response.


Kascalion Giedfield
Romund Sro

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Levitating himself toward the platform below. A agitated sense of additional discomfort belittled the Undead sith lord. Midst the heavy chaos he stuck out like a sore thumb. The chamber was loud and the last portion of what Ashin Cardé Varanin said was lost to him. Removing his hood he approached. " What did you say?" His lipless mouth mawed the words eager to know what was said. A visage of annoyance riddled his features as he waited for a response.

Ashin, for one, didn't inhale a streamer of the ash - she'd experienced this before. And with this many compromised or incapacitated Sith around, someone needed to make sure no opportunist disrespected the ritual.

"I said there's no shame in succumbing to this particular pain, so far as I'm concerned. In the deepest Sith traditions, this is as close as we get to the sacred. My guess is that your current state of existence is keeping you from having a profound experience - accurate? I don't presume to know whether that state is what you'd wish it to be, but on the off chance it's not, I'd be willing to resurrect you. Just a thought."

Her motives were threefold. She could stand to have someone like Immortuos owe her a favor. She could also stand to gain a practical level of respect from those who'd learn of it. And most important by a mile, it would be one more step toward resurrecting her wife.

In a word, practice.

​

 

[Romund Sro]

Romund had certainly not foreseen these turn of events. Ashes? They were to learn from Ashes? He'd thought to himself. An air of arrogance overtook the armor clad knight. He seemingly flinched some as he saw the particulates form tendrils in the air towards them.

He did his best to try and concentrate on the mental chant as his got closer to him. Even closing his eyes to not be distracted by it. However, it almost caught him further off guard as the ashes leaked through his visor through it's many little holes. Nose and Mouth facing an smoky onslaught.

It was quick to witness Romund loose his composure. Trying to remember the chant easily feeling like a distant memory as he coughed. The violent sounds echoing through his helmet. Opening his eye as well, the one unhindered by a patch over it, it would begin to water in irritation from the burning ash.

This aggressive spiral compounded as with each new sensation he got. His distinct armor began to feel like a case that he had entrapped himself in as it became harder to breath and focus. His watering eye closing itself shut before he opened it again. But he found himself no longer on the ship. No longer in his armor, or with an eyepatch over his left eye. But he felt pressure on his body, and a searing against himself. He felt stuck, rather helpless. He was there on Korriban, he knew it, but couldn't see any of it. In fact he couldn't see anything. But a shadowy cloud of smoke where only the brightest blazes pierced it with their orange glow.

Yet no safety came from from those lights. Only waves of scorching heat that painfully complimented the burring pressure on the rest of his body. The noise was dull, yet vivid at the same time. Hearing a roaring inferno around him. But he couldn't move himself, he felt himself pressed down. Like the building had collapsed on himself. Yet his heart raced with weakening beats. Confusion and panic overtook him. He was stuck, and he couldn't call out, any breath he took was met with the inferno entering his throat and lungs. Not to mention any noise made would be drowned out in fire.

He was burning alive under the weight of an world it felt. Unable to do anything but hurt, and in the pain came clouded clarity. As the world around fell deeper into darkness, pain, sight, hearing blurring away there was one feeling that lingered in him, every second it was getting sharper, that was Hate...

Darth Immortuos | Ashin Cardé Varanin | Darth Vinaze | Kascalion Giedfield

 

[Darth Immortuos]

" What?!" The word escaped him apon hearing a request to aid or help Immortuos. Or the mere fact that his state was in part due to a mistake by his own hand. As if any Sith would willingly aid another without selfish gain or at the expense of another in some form. This was the wisdom of the Sith itself. A rule forever engraved into what it ment to be and follow the darkside. Betrayal, subterfuge and skullduggery. The woman Ashin Cardé Varanin reeked of it in the Sith lords perception.

What came next was a reaction rooted in suspicion, sarcasm and some hope. She did not understand the complexity Blackwing. Not from Nulgaths viewpoint. There was no resurrection possible, but what if there was a way to feel fully and look like his normal self once again? " Mmm. And what remedy do you possess to fix or aid my condition? My very nature battles against the aspects of this ritual. I feel little, if not agitation than anything else. My state is eternal. Years from now when your body fuses with your namesake. Ash. I will continue to remain just as I am. " Immortuos's gaze fall directly apon Ashin now. Arrogance irradiated off him. Mangled bodies of the dead underneath his robes squirmed. Eyes exposed through gaps or holes in his robes peeked out toward her as well. As if a tomb had be awoken.

Trying to discern truth from lies within a brain riddled with much need paranoia on his part. He pushed the question back to his own focus.

" You said something lowly when the screaming began. What was it?" He asked once again.

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"What I said was that this ritual, the meaning behind it - this is as close as the Sith experience gets to sacredness. As for my offer, Lord Immortuos - I have three reasons.

"First, it's always good to have someone like you owe me a favor.

"Second, I've been retired for a long while. Some of the older faces treat me with the kind of respect you'd give a has-been elder. Most of the rest have barely heard of me. Giving you a new lease on life would help make me a Name again.

"And third, you might have heard that all of this is in service of my one goal - bringing my wife back from where she's trapped in the worst parts of the Netherworld. I've resurrected people before...but I can always use more practice."

Darth Immortuos

 

[Darth Immortuos]

Immortuos moved away from Ashin Cardé Varanin and off toward her right side. A unfaltering gaze persisted. The screams of the chamber were thinning though still prevalent and through it all the sith Lord slowly digested the womans response. The ritual did indeed inflict the most mighty with fear and emotions and it showed a human element to every being in here. Except Immortuos himself. What have I become? A strange sensation of pride and wrong came over him. He could not relate to anyone in here when I came to pain or mental aguish felt and it wounded him slightly. Not that he didn't fit in but if he couldnt do so here, then how would he relate to his own daughter?

A pause of consideration was made.

Ashin has experienced loss and her entire goal was to mend that wound by resurrection.

Interesting to say the least. A noble cause much like my own.

" Someone like me?" he muttered to himself and raised a brow. "Ashin, Every man or woman has their follies and mistakes. In your case, Those are the most trustworthy and interesting attributes you possess." A smirk formed on his face as he attempted to dig in a verbal blade. " Your shiftier than me and I don't trust myself. Somewhere in you, something terrible grows and festers. As you push toward your goal of bringing back your wife, there will we ruin and cruel intention. Of this I am certain."

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"You're right," Ashin told Darth Immortuos with a smile. "About all of it. There is one thing about me you can absolutely trust, though, based on decades of past behavior and decision-making. I will do absolutely anything necessary to resurrect my wife. Joining this society has given me resources and possibilities I couldn't find elsewhere - tools to help me toward my goal. I've done terrible and contemptible things with that goal in mind. I probably will again before I see this through. That doesn't mean I default to betrayal; it means I default to whatever advances my goal.

"Think my offer through; take your time. If you decide it's too high a risk, so be it. If you decide I'm telling the truth - that resurrecting you would unlock doors and be vital practice, refinement of the skills that will bring her back - I'm available."

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