Darkness Stirs and Wakes Imagination

[Sal Katarn]

[member="Nazo"]

Korriban.

Dead heat. Yes, dead heat seemed an apt description for this place. Little lived upon the sand ridden rock of a world. No one came to Korriban seeking that which breathed. An ancient hatred hung about this place, burnished by the many undead spirits that wandered the valleys of this burial ground. Today there were more than spirits wandering about.

In the Valley of the Dark Lords, Anaudius stood wrapped in his tattered brown robes, mask securely about his face, and looked on his handiwork.

A camp of Mandalorians sat not ten meters distant. The cook fire burned, unattended. Those who would have stoked the fire lay inside tents, groaning in agony. Dying. Slowly.

They came to the planet seeking immortality amidst the ruins. Sad fools. Korriban had been divested of its more precious artifacts long, long ago. Still, Anaudius conversed with them, coming to know their intentions for several days and acting as their guide. It had taken some doing to escape from the Jedi and Sith upon this planet, yet escape them he had... only to stumble into the Mandalorians. He did not question that this was all according to the Aesir's will.

Yesterday, the Leper God had spoken to him through Derriphan. Grant them what they wish. Give them immortality. And he did.

They would die, cursed by a poisonous spell of Anaudius' devising. Their spirits would then rise, trapped by Sith Magic, and be forced to wander the valley for eternity. The Plaguebringer gave them immortality, though perhaps not that which they sought.

Anaudius watched it all, pondering the oddities of human wants.

 

[Nazo]

Few and far between were the companies of sentient beings who enjoyed a good stow-away aboard any vessel that ran through the hyperlanes. It was a lesson he learned a long time ago aboard cargo freighters down the Hydian way, and Mara Corridor. For some strange reason these curious bi-peds wanted currency to be at peace with travelling in proximity to each other. This is specifically why Nazo often didn't announce his presence, but stayed tucked away on the outer hall, enjoying the lightyears of cosmic debris that wafted through the ever expansive majesty of space. He was a philosopher after all - thinker, and ponderer of the deep and dark mysteries that fashioned this nebula rich Galaxy. Still he wouldn't have been invited in should he had decided to try and pay the fare - nor would be treated to the first class dining carts. That was perfectly fine for such an enigma - his feast came from the ship itself. A delicious assortment of plasma rich alloy that he feasted upon during the journey. Generally it didn't destabilize the flight, but often after a return trip did inspectors scratch their fleshy skulls at the damage that had been done. The Mandalorians though didn't have high-class dining, and they didn't host passengers - but no one ever checked the outside of a craft when in the dead of space.

Korriban wasn't a planet he'd been to as of yet, though he'd been in the sector the allure of a planet so mired with war, and torn apart till only the barest of minerals could hope to sustain in such an arid and lack-luster environment. Nazo went were the people were, never to a planet too populated that might incite a riot of monumental proportions, but certainly not a planet bereft of life itself. He was drawn to emotions, to the upheaval he could create, and he lusted after that power to influence and change the perceptions of men and women from all races he'd so encountered. This place was an ancient ruined husk, where nothing lived, and no one thrived. Even these iron skinned warriors were not in great company when they arrived onto this desolate rock. Nazo hadn't come for sight-seeing, he simply wasn't aware of their destination, and as of yet had been camped out inside their vessel while they had journeyed off to find whatever they had come for.

However, in the recent events, he witnessed some strange and peculiar meetings with a figure that seemed to not only command their collective attention, but even act as a guide along this barren world to find the value they sought. Life and death meant little to the mad scientist slug - his transcendent mind had placed little value in the act of breathing for this fleshy bi-peds. The cycles of life for these creatures were fleeting and glib, marked by only a few short seasons and then whisked away as if they never even made a dent in the time scale. Even Nazo was aware that time would eventually claim them all, it was a mystery as beautiful as the cosmos, and just as deadly. It was that grand experiment that time wove so effortlessly, taking each one by one, and sometimes by entire droves. Plucking the strings and threads of existence until nought by time would remain. As the company of Mandalorians lay in agony, wretching from the poisonous effects of this Dark figure, Nazo became intrigued enough to skitter across the ship's outer hull, his metallic hands and feet clinking on the metal like some obscure spider before dismounting to stand at his full height of just over two meters.

Robes fell around the figure, draping down and covering the exoskeleton before a more graceful and 'human' posture came into play, allowing Nazo to step into the range of the camp itself. His notice of the figure in the background hadn't swayed his resolve to investigate further. The suffering called to him like a mynock to power cables, the undefinable allure of the agony and death surrounding him was a beacon of dark energy that he fed on just as he had, the hull of their transport. Porcelain mask tilted this way and that, as he proceeded to peak into the tents, further terrifying the writhing men in iron skin. This was a delicious assortment of strangled cries and gurgles, and the panic and dread in their minds came like a meal served piping out. He still was blithely unaware he was being watched, but that had never stopped the slug before in his travels.

[member="Anaudius"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

A hand came up and adjusted the mask hiding burned features. Gloved fingers briefly grazed the intricate carvings, tracing them. Behind the cold metal, Anaudius' eyes narrowed. He felt a presence. A strange one, at that. The presence, it did not feel human. Giving an absent tug on his cowl, Anaudius moved forward, into the camp.

His fingers moved in a complex weave and he uttered a few words in a pained whisper and a rush of breath expelled from his lungs. The power of the Aesir rolled through him and he wove it into a pleasing tapestry, binding threads of the Mystical Force and pulling them into place as a master weaver would. The spell of concealment shrouded his presence in the Force, while the second spell - layered over the first - found its moorings in Tund Illusion sorcery and caused him to vanish from sight of both droids and organics.

Anaudius observed the metal and masked figure as it stood quietly in the tents, moving from one to the other and simply... gazing upon those within. The Soulsaber, Derriphan, whispered to the leper.

"Should we kill it? Let me taste flesh. Let me taste bone. Let me drink up its soul."

A frown creased the unburnt parts of Anaudius' brow. "I do not believe that is our purpose here. It is not of the light and therefore you should not hunger for its taste."

"Semantics! Semantics!"

Anaudius shook his head, "The Aesir chose a strange messenger."

At last, he dispelled his Sith magic with a wave of the hand, unraveling the constructs of the Force and becoming visible and entirely too present. The Soulsaber merged with his own presence, sending forth waves of the Dark Side and tremulous urges that would give any light sider a migraine beyond belief, but to those who preferred darker paths they seemed an ocean of intoxicating, stygian nectar. Yet, to a zealot, the dark desires to do violence and harm seemed somewhat dampened in effect, or perhaps they were merely given more direction.

"You enjoy their suffering?" Anaudius projected telepathically to the being.

[member="Nazo"]

 

[Nazo]

Like a morbid marionette, the figure of Nazo shifted in unexpected method, from the hips the figure turned, feet stayed planted and still, and the head rotated nearly one-hundred eighty degrees so that the mask itself poured it's beady eyed gaze upon that of the figure emerging from the depths of obscurity. As if the suffering and tumultuous pangs of agony that plagued the fallen soldiers had somehow been dampened, and the nexus of negative emotions, conflict, and power were now a healthy inferno in this dark cloaked figure. The range of motion spoke of something certainly not human, but difficult to discern given the layers of fabric cloaking the exoskeleton from view. Another languid bend of motion tilted his frame to the side, as the headdress of feathers shifted in a show of static plumage. Nazo was curious, and rather intrigued. He had met those that wielded strange powers before, but only briefly. None however had broadcast such a tempting target before - they had shown structure, and power, but always in an offensive manner. This creature was merely radiating a presence that drew Nazo's hungering psyche.

Soon the feet turned as well as his form left the tents be at rest, drawing his seven foot frame closer and closer to the hushed and silent beacon of energy. The habits of these bi-peds while still perplexing were mimicked in the amusing fashion of metallic digits tapping against their counterparts. Every now and again, his form would shift, craning to one side or the other as if inspecting this curiosity as he drew ever closer. Soon though, he paused, and halted his forward movements, still tapping those digits together as if pondering the implications of this robed visitor. It was the voice that stopped him, that voice that rang in his own mind instead of the reverberating through the air itself. He knew this trick, he learned it out of necessity, and it seemed to calm his lust for knowledge and halt his stride.

"Unfiltered energy.

Panic, pain, tremors of terror.

Unhinged.

Unbound.

Unabated seething dread. Delicious."

Came the telepathic response. It was always a toss up whether the space slug would be a coherent and literate conversationalist, or if he'd just go on a spree of adjectives and adverbs that formed into loosely cohesive riddles. He was after all, quite mad. And simply to punctuate that last description, his right arm moved to the side, stretchered out and palm facing the ship a few meters away. A break-away panel covering some of the shield array instruments began to creak and grown, before it began to sputter up and down. Finally the panel ripped free and flew like a bolt of lightning into the now grasping digits of Nazo's metallic digits. Both hands began to work over the thin alloy, pressing the palm of one hand seemingly flat against the cool surface. Beneath the veil of his thick sleeve, a prehensile tongue lapped across the metal, draining the plasma and iron nutrients from the structure. A snack.

[member="Anaudius"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

The zealot of Moross lowered his chin as he watched the strange being before him tear metal off the hull of a transport, seemingly without the use of the Force. Intriguing. The being spoke in riddles that seemed both answer and warning to Anaudius. No matter. The creature before him savored primal emotions of fear, wallowing in them as would an animal roll in the mud.

"Mmm, darkness, I sense darkness in him. No light, no light!" The Soulsaber whispered, alien tones tinged by a recognizanle disappointment. No doubt the vile blade wished for a spark of light within to snuff out. Not so here. Not so at all.

By contrast to the curious motions of the metallic figure, Anaudius remained almost immovable save for a slight breeze that brushed the edges of his robes. The follower of Liad, the Plaguebringer god of the Moross Crusade, had seen too many horrors to let an oddity such as this frighten him. The elasticity of the creature's cervical spine indicated that vertebrae might be nonexistent. Anaudius pondered briefly whether the entity might be a droid, yet he felt the Force humming inside of the being. A mystery, then. Intriguing.

Praise Neth, god of knowledge. Anaudius had met the Keeper's mortal incarnation. No doubt he would be pleased if Anaudius were to pursue this mystery. Anaudius worshipped Liad primarily, yet he served all of the Aesir. He would not deny a chance to gain favor with one of the Pantheon.

"Their fears give you power," Anaudius surmised, again projecting with his mind. He glanced toward the tents. "I too feel their woes. Is it not the sweetest elixir? With their agony I can weave a tapestry."

He withdrew his fingers from the sleeves of his robes and moved them in an intricate pattern, focusing intensely. At once, a wailing ephemeral form appeared from thin air, the spirit of a dead Mandalorian, bound by Anaudius' will. It hovered to his right hand, shackled by unseen forces.

"Even in death they cannot escape me, much less my master." The servant of Liad returned his attention to the curious creature. "Do you have a name?"

[member="Nazo"]

 

[Nazo]

Death marked this planet, whose only breath of life came in the form of travelers to it's barren and dirt ridden topography. A dead world, no longer just dying, but completely encompassed in the void. Aside from a breathable atmosphere, and the gravitational pull of it's mass and size - there was little to distinguish it from an asteroid floating in some stray orbit. It once had life, it once had a purpose resting out here in the cosmos, and that purpose had been twisted and mauled by the Dark Side. Life had been sucked away bit by bit, and then once the life had been extinguished, it's resources had been scavenged. And even beyond that, as just a graveyard, it had been raided by party after party hoping for buried secrets until nothing was indeed left. Although not a completely natural death, it has succumbed to a cycle the Nazo had seen for the last two centuries with his observant characteristics. Death was inevitable - and yet, the strange and telepathic figure before him was showing him something he'd not realized - that death was not an end, and even the dead could wail.

Anaudius spoke of power, that these emotions that he fed upon like an addict to a fix, but it was more than that. He reveled in it - and while it did draw him, it did not control him. He allowed that need to fill him, to drive him. Most of his travels were experiments, just curiosities put to the test. Despite however maniacal they were, they were simply experiments to test the sentient condition. A scientists, a dreamer, a thinker, and a philosopher. Had he been one of these pasty bi-pedals with a life barely reaching into his own youth, perhaps he'd have more of a social climate. That was not his lot, not his destiny - and there was very little allure to it anyway. Metallic digits clicked happily upon the buffer panel lodged in his grip while he observed the ethereal figure rise from the mists of Sith Magic and light upon the palm of this dark one, fettered by unseen chains of power.

"The cycle is strained, twisted, broken. You are a collector of souls that bridge time." The tone of his telepathic musings normally carried a sinister mix of a child's voice and that of a deep bass reminiscent of the demons of lore. Though there was certain emotion placed in the pattern of his disembodied voice that echoed into Anaudius' mind. He was surprised, and delighted at the same time. Not only did Death not conqueror the essence of emotion, but the state thereafter could be adjusted, changed -- experimented with. Oh this was indeed a new fascination that swept over the mind of the slug (the one not devoted to consuming material). While the mask's lifeless beady eyes continued to be set on the figure before him, it was Nazo himself that was transfixed. Very little motion was going on otherwise with the figure as only the wind bristled their respective garments on the arid wasteland.

"I thirst for the source of this secret power." The figure stated again in a delighted, but determined telepathic tone, as Anaudius' last question seemingly went unanswered. He could of simply spoken his name here, but that wasn't exactly the top priority for the space slug. He'd just realized that there was en entirely new set of tools with which to create panic and discord, even after a subject had seemingly expired. However, Nazo was also incredibly intelligent, and it was shown in a single motion as the plank of metal was tossed through the space between them, turning as it hit the dirt at the man's feet, spinning until a single glance down would see the carefully discolored metal. Lines had been formed, that were now blackened thanks to a molecular rupture in it's atomic essence. Dark black lines now spelled out the four letters of this creature's name 'N A Z O' in Galactic Basic.

[member="Anaudius"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

The hull plate thudded to the sand at Anaudius' feet. He did not look at the item at first, more interested in the possibilities of the being which stood before him. Yes, there was no doubt in his mind that this meeting had been fated by the Aesir. Upon a planet of death would be forged bonds of life, a master and an apprentice. Perhaps this entity would come to understand the true gods, or perhaps not. He need not be a believer to act as a servant of the Aesir. Not all tools understood the power which wielded them.

A wave of the hand dispelled the chains binding the spirit at his hand. A great, rushing sigh filled the valley, the whispered longings of a thousand throats all wishing for such same release. The spirit faded slowly, as a mist evaporates beneath the sun's burning rays, disappearing into the nothing to the eyes of the undiscerning. Yet, Anaudius knew what waited in the beyond. Pathways. Many pathways, but only one way led to the truth. Before the spirit could fully fade, Anaudius wrapped a web of spells around it, gesturing quickly and binding the spirit with a spell that would entrap it in this valley for eternity.

The cowled head glanced down. Blackened letters stood out against the metal surface. "Nazo," Anaudius projected, "Nazo," he tested the word again. "You intrigue me. To those who ask, knowledge shall not be denied," he quoted a verse of Neth, god of understanding, secrets, knowing the unknown.

"Every living organism is part of the Force. The Force is life itself. Upon most.... deaths... one being passing from this realm does not simply cease to exist, but becomes part of the Force, or travels elsewhere if the spirit is resilient enough. Upon disconnection with the mortal flesh, the spirits are vulnerable, for they have not yet reached their destination. One has but to stretch out in the Force and seize the life force."

The masked face swiveled toward the tents. Anaudius increased the Force Affliction that diseased the body of one of the Mandalorians, quickening his death. As the man gasped his last, he gave up his essence. Anaudius could feel it. Frail, weak. Lacking any affinity for the Force. Vulnerable. Anaudius seized it and bound it with his will, wrapping a web of intricate chains around the spirit and summoning it to the visible realm. The spirit appeared, life-sized, standing beside Anaudius. He wore a confused and angry expression.

"Binding a spirit just after the death of its mortal self is an easy task. Drawing out single, long-dead entities is far harder. Attempting to control even one of the spirits of the Dark Lords who reside here would be... inadvisable. One would have to summon them from the Netherworld, a plane in the spiritual realm plagued by undead Sith, or rip them from one of their tombs."

He gestured at the immense statues that surrounded them in the Valley of the Dark Lords, then turned his attention to the spirit beside him. Drawing upon the lore of Sith Magic, he bound this spirit as well and projected to [member="Nazo"] telepathically as he worked.

"This Valley is filed with residual energy in the Force. You can feel it. Nothing lives here, but something hums within this place. An ancient hatred. Do you feel it? That energy and the many spells warding the tombs in this Valley makes it a difficult task for any ordinary spirit to escape this valley and return to the Force. All these spells were meant to contain life, not to allow it to escape. My task, then, is a simple one."

Binding completed, he returned his attention on the being which called itself Nazo, itself as much a mystery as that which any of these tombs contained.

"I granted these Mandalorians what they sought... immortality." The cowled head tilted to one side. "Do you not think me a just prophet?"

 

[Nazo]

A cosmic essence known throughout their Galaxy; The Force was a topic of much debate, but one not entirely researched or plumbed by the figure standing before the dark prophet. It's taint was on him, and he'd already begun to utilize the very surface of it's abilities - but he'd done this out of necessity, out of proximity, but never fully realized out of will. Anaudis alluded to will, of the tempered state of focused diligence that allowed to make manifest even the souls of the damned. For far longer than even this dark prophet had lived, Nazo had learned and studied countless subjects of both structured and abstract nature. His own alien heritage was so vastly separate that often even his musings were a perplexing jumble of thoughts that most sentient beings didn't have the capacity to fathom. In a Galaxy filled with species of every shape and variety, he was one of the few that while not exceedingly rare - he was set apart and distinct from the masses. This one however, this dark lord with the ability to chain and trap the very essence of sentient life had unlocked an avenue of exploration that not even Nazo had experienced before.

While the creature listened intently, absorbing ever word and phrase that rang in his own mind, the metallic digits of his makeshift hands moved back and forth. Closer observation would provide clarity that he was indeed mimicking every single one of the carefully placed hand gestures that Anaudis had already made since he had began to watch this figure. They were exact copies, and he repeated them again and again in silence. His focus was not however on these movements of the digits - this was just practice. They would not suffice to be able to weave the spells and incantations of Sith Magic that had been shown. They would however come in handy later should he venture in the depths to Master these spells. When the figure of the writhing Mandalorian nearby fell silent, and the shroud of flesh was pulled aside to release the essence of the man, Nazo paused his gesturing, and looked with eager anticipation.

Footsteps took him forward, and while he knew that this image was not corporeal in the slightest, he didn't relent from drawing a single metal digit up and towards the face of the grieved soldier. As if he would touch the flesh of his cheek, Nazo drew the digit up and down, poking and prodding the vision before him with intrigue and curiosity. A mask tilt again before an idea struck the mind of the space slug. A motion he'd learned from years of observance, a single finger lifted as if to give pause to the prophet's current lecture. Turning and preying on the man in the tent, he pulled apart the sheer curtain of, and leveled a metallic kick to the dead figure there. Two more in succession happened as he then quickly ascertained the figure standing at Anaudius' side. What was the relationship now with the mortal flesh and the translucent image of it's former self? He endeavored to know if there was one. A moment later he was satiated, allowing the ritual to commence.

His attention soon diverted to the epic carved statues that littered Korriban's tomb ridden world. They were impressive, dark and rather featureless. The imposing majestic stone carvings had been here for centuries, for a millennium or more. Weathered cracks and and cracked figures - some of them were reduced to rubble in the ruins of raiding parties seeking the spoils of a forgotten planet. He could though feel the dark hum that perpetrated these lands, once he focused on it, once he was aware of it's presence. The lean cloaked figure rose it's head to stare blankly at the large statues surrounding their current location, wind rustling the headdress and robes while he observed. There was no life here - not organically speaking, but there was a power that pulsed deep within the darkened landscape. It held it at bay - the life energy of the souls he spoke of. They were trapped, ever writhing, ever seething, begging to be released and cruelly denied their deepest desire.

"Prophet." Nazo projected, repeating the man's self proclaimed title. "Prophet. Sorcerer." He added in, his figure righting itself for more direct communication. The tell tale sign of thought and pondering revealed itself with another tap to the 'chin' region of his mask with that clinking metallic finger. Mask dipped down a bit, running through a thousand different situations and permutations of them in his brain. The tapping ceased and his mask rose. "Teacher." He had come to his conclusion.

[member="Anaudius"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

The creature's reply did not quite elicit a smile from Anaudius. His mouth had forgotten such movements long ago. He could feel the curiosity of the being in the Force, genuine and powerful. Questions, ever another question. Intriguing. Yes, he would teach this entity. He believed Liad would be so very pleased. Anaudius folded his hands inside his sleeves again and began walking toward the transport.

"I have been stranded here, but they have provided me a way off of this barren rock." He paused near the boarding ramp. "In my sojourn I worked upon a project."

A hand withdrew from his sleeve clutching two items, each the size of a dog tag and resembling a hand, palm flat and thumb tucked. Tiny runes were carved across the amulets and they had a hole for a chain or rope to be threaded through for a necklace. Anaudius handed one to Nazo.

"They are inscribed with glyphs that will grant whoever wears the amulet the aura of the Light Side. Dark and Light, a concept in the Force which is important to many sects, but one which I care little for, less so my Master. Even so, it is important for traveling in certain parts of the galaxy without attracting too much attention. I believe with our combined power we can activate the amulets."

The masked figure tilted his head to one side. In truth, he rather enjoyed the company which this being provided. Wandering across space with nothing but the Soulsaber's whispers had proven rather a dismal existence. Now he had someone with which to share the glories of Liad. A fellow philosopher, from the look of him. Anaudius indeed had plans, though they did not originally involve Nazo. He'd discovered certain writings that told of an Arkanian experiment. He wished to learn the truth of the matter and for that he would have to travel to Alzoc III. In the meantime...

"Join your power to mine, let the Force flow and channel the energy into these amulets," Anaudius pointed a hand toward the amulets and two black tendrils leapt forth, attaching to both of the amulets and pulsating as it filled them with the Dark Side.

[member="Nazo"]

 

[Nazo]

Having been seen by a few practitioners of the Force before this seemingly fated meeting with this dark prophet, Nazo had been introduced to concepts of the Force - but the actual instruction of his abilities was lacking severely. He often found himself quickly liberated from the teachings and company of those that dabbled in these dark arts. Whether by his own unique and alien personality, or by some other circumstance - he'd learned to observe in quiet contemplation rather than expecting a through manual that would directly pin-point the ways to unlock these mysterious gifts. After all, he had been a being who observed nearly everything else that he had learned in silence, understanding strange and unique concepts and lodging them in his seeming infinite memory banks. His ability to comprehend and replicate actions and emotional cues was a vast treasure trove of untapped potential, which certainly could be put to use if applied to the effort and devotion to the Force.

These blips on the radar of his mind though only cemented further his misanthropic ways. Nazo wasn't entirely interested in the sentient companionship that he watched others crave and drive themselves for. While their behavior patterns were interesting, and sometimes strangely curious, he cared little for them. His only use for this bipedal creatures were to gain knowledge and test his morbid experiments. Still, the new information had spurred a desire to stay close to this dark prophet, and learn of his ways, to absorb every ounce of information about this Force, and it's potential in himself. Turning to flank the dark lord, Nazo appraised the vessel before them.

The Mandalorian shuttle that had escorted the now dead soldiers to this barren rock was fit and ready to take to the skies once again. He had been a passenger on the vessel, and even had a secret still stashed away within it's hull that he would soon reveal should Anaudius make entry into the ship proper. A curious mask tilt was offered as the man brought out two palm sized stones for the space slug to inspect. Metallic digits already tapping upon one of them, gently turning it back and forth for inspection of the glyphs that covered the exterior. He'd not seen these markings before, but he was already committing them to memory for later study. Retracting his hand for a moment, his focus came onto the words of the prophet as he spoke about the two poles of study of the Force. The idea of the Force signature of a being having a specific notion of will directed towards it was still a foreign concept. However Nazo understood the notion of what was being attempted. A disguise. Something Nazo was intimately familiar with given his current coverings. Even Anaudius had not seen his true form yet.

"These are not to be consumed?" The curious question echoed in telepathic communication as his digit came back to poke at the rock. Closer observation of his hand this time would bring sight of a tentacle like structure slipping beneath the metallic wrist and lapping upon one of the stones in the dark lord's palm. Nazo's prehensile tongue was attempting to identify the materials of the rock; and to see if it would make for a tasty morsel. Normally those of his species touched everything with their tongue, not only to find food sources, but as a form of communication which most beings found highly jarring. Droids though didn't pay any mind to it, as it had no affect on their artificial intelligence systems. The idea of drawing on the Force to activate the amulets was a strange on, and he was more focused on if these were to be snacks for the ride away from Korriban.

"The summoning of this power." He stated in his default mixed tone came again as he continued to study the rock. "This trait is performed, how?" He inquired of the dark prophet, as he was unaware of how to draw the power from his own form to join the dark tendrils that leapt at the rocks from his teacher's essence. It was certainly something he wanted to accomplish, but he simply kept tapping the stone and letting his tongue sliding across the surface. He wouldn't simply eat the rock, he wanted more information if that was the direct meaning, or if some other goal was in mind for the action.

[member="Anaudius"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

Blue eyes narrowed and Anaudius jerked his hand back as he witnessed a strange tongue flick from Nazo's wrist to lick at the rocks. Had he just asked whether or not these rocks were... food? What kind of creature was this Nazo? The thoughts tumbled about Anaudius' brain. He cut off the energy bristling from his fingers and tucked the amulets back underneath his robes. Clearly he'd overestimated Nazo's abilities, or at least his training. While throwing around Sith spells he could sometimes forget that he too had once struggled to utilize the Force for even the most basic of abilities.

"No, they..." Anaudius frowned and shook his head, causing the folds of his cowl to sway. "It is no matter. I see I have made certain incorrect assumptions..."

The follower of Liad gestured at the surrounding area with a hand. The flesh was burnt. Not blackened, but warped, like melted wax that had cooled and set. "I said once before that this world is a world full of hate. You can feel that energy, negative energy. Draw it in, feed upon it and let it give you strength. You will find that you can control that power and bend it to your will."

Closing his eyes, Anaudius breathed in the Dark Side and let the energy permeate his very being. The aphotic flow of power rippled through him, palpable, though unseen. Anaudius gestured toward a nearby pillar of sandstone and a Bolt of Hatred erupted from his palm. The searing orange-red orb hit the pillar and obliterated the stone in a cacophonous explosion.

The expenditure of energy left Anaudius breathless and for several seconds he did nothing but stand there, panting. At last, he turned to his new... apprentice. "Such is but an inkling of the power you could wield, should you learn to master it. Come, I will teach you more, but I have a mission to complete for my master." Anaudius started walking up the ramp and into the Mandalorian vessel. He had no wish to remain on this planet, trapped for as long as he had been. "I go to Alzoc III, to investigate certain rumors. Rumors of death and suffering. Will you join me?"

[member="Nazo"]

 

[Nazo]

In an instant the withdraw of the stones caused his own actions to pause, and his hand to fall to his side. It was a response he'd seen time and time again - though normally it was when people saw what they were really dealing with. There was no familiar ping of fear radiating from the dark prophet however, no apprehension or tension in his mood. That much Nazo could deduce from his innate connection to the Force's continual speaking. While his new teacher was not afraid of the reaction, he certainly found it foreign to his expectations, of which Nazo was blithely unaware. The shift of his mask to the side, indicating some confusion on that note was quickly remedied by Anaudius' introduction to the abilities that the Force itself could grant should the proper techniques and focus be applied to the well-spring of negative energy that permeated this planet.

As the words rang in his mind, Nazo solidified his attention to the energies and emotions that echoed throughout the tombs. That spirits of trapped life essence were in continual lament, pouring out their anguish and hate into the barren soil of this desolate rock. He had felt the energy before when his attentions were pointed towards it, and now the same. The strength and palpable energy of those emotions welled up inside the space slug, relishing in the flood of power that built inside his being. He wasn't a practiced user of the Force, so he merely drew on the presence as instructed, understanding there was potential there, but at a current loss for execution and delivery.

Delivery however seemed to be this dark prophet's strong suit, as the orb of energy launched from his hand like a missile, striking a pillar of stone with the force of an ion cannon burst. Only smoked rubble remained from a direct hit, and it seemed to enamor Nazo who stood beside him. Anaudius had just constructed visible, tangible energy from this mysterious mix of feelings that Nazo could already feel and store up. If the laws of physics were able to be bent and manipulated like this, then there were unknown reaches of possibilities that rang through his mind. No longer was this just sorcery, this was a level of science he had not yet plumbed the depths of. The more this dark prophet spoke of the Force, the more fascinated Nazo became with the concept and possibilities. Realizing seconds later that this was merely an example, not an actual lesson, Nazo turned his attention and his personage to face the Dark Lord as they made their way up the ramp and into the craft.

"Outer Rim. Sujimis Sector. Ice world." Nazo rattled off some quick facts about the planet's location and climate that he knew from his extensive time reading ship logs, and data banks. A single nod was offered in his learned sentient behavior to signify that he would certainly accompany the man to this mission. He had yet to ask about this Master, but that wasn't something the space slug often concerned himself with. Entering through the shuttle's main storage bay, the sound of rustling and metal sliding back and forth was heard in the aft, near the galley. The noise drawing Nazo to direct his attention towards the storage compartment within the galley proper. Bent over one of the cargo containers that was now open, a bright red and pink lizard like creature was found foraging inside a spare pantry of dehydrated food rations.

The movement caught the creature's attention, and it leapt from the cargo container to the floor and turned to face Nazo and Anaudius. A lively version of the infamous Gizka padded over and looked at the pair. It's beady eyes fixed themselves on the dark prophet, and it's barbed teeth began to show. A low chortle reverberated from within it's tiny throat as the creature attempted to snarl and growl. The signs of madness possibly evident in it's gaze as bits of saliva dripped from it's razor sharp albeit tiny teeth. Nazo's hand reached out, splaying his metallic digits as a warning towards the creature as his mask tilted in that direction as well. Silence echoed between them before the growling ceased and the curious head tilt of the creature responded silently to the space slug. Another glance was given to the robed figure before it padded on back to the compartment and resumed it's search. Discarded and torn wrappers of already consumed ration meals lay scattered upon the floor.

"My friend." Nazo commented telepathically to Anaudius. It was his only friend.

[member="Anaudius"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

The zealot's footfalls came almost silently against the deck of the ship. He came to an abrupt halt as his newfound apprentice spouted off a trio of facts about the destination. He turned to look over his shoulder at Nazo. So much knowledge and yet so little of the Force, but the presence he felt did not feel new, quite the opposite. Old and... enigmatic, a foreign entity not easily unraveled. Anaudius would endeavor to unravel the perplexing mystery that was Nazo. And if he could not, then perhaps he could introduce the being to Neth the Keeper. When a mystery met the master of secrets only interesting things could come about.

Sudden rattling sounded inside the storage bay and blue eyes quickly settled on the lizard creature that emerged from the corners, all razor teeth, fey eyes and strings of drool. Anaudius' eyes narrowed and he took a step backward, fingers of his right hand curling as he gathered energy into his palm. Then Nazo made a gesture of friendship with the animal and called it his friend. Anaudius reluctantly dispelled his preparations to disintegrate the creature. It appeared there would be three of them, on this journey to Alzoc III.

"It seems you are full of curiosities, friend [member="Nazo"]," Anaudius dipped his head. "Very well. I go to ready the ship for departure. We will leave at once."

FIN​