Shogun of Sorrow

Battu || Black Spire Outpost
TAG || OPEN
A storm has consumed the vibrant sky.
TAG || OPEN
A storm has consumed the vibrant sky.
Battu was hardly ever a world of renown, but in these days of endless conflict, it had become a haven for refugees passing through to reach the relative safety of the Core Worlds. Yet commerce seemed to go on, market stalls full of trinkets and fresh fruits remained even as the onslaught of rain forced buyers and sellers alike indoors or into the crowded cantina. But under the cheap junk that passed for momentos and the overpriced food lay a network of smugglers and artifact hunters that have used Black Spire and the surrounding forests for their illicit trade. Usually, these were little more than chunks of stone or ancient fertility idols that rich collectors fell over themselves to collect, even though it was very much against Alliance law, but credits always made for a rather worthwhile risk.
Occasionally, someone stumbles upon a relic of significance, one that draws the interest of parties outside of the eccentric collectors or foolhardy adventurers. It was such a relic that had drawn darkness to this little backwater, a specter cloaked in darkness, accompanied by a band of local mercenary raiders as protection. The storm that engulfed the outpost provided perfect cover for one who wished to avoid any unwelcome onlookers, and for those persistent enough, a cadre of blasters and blades was enough to remind them it was not worth asking questions.
The thud of a cane against stone echoed among the cracks of thunder. A monstrous being, fueled by hatred and a desire to see the galaxy consumed by terror.
Darth Nefaron had come. But this was no terrorist attack or slave raid; he had come to carry out business.
Protected by a baker's dozen of poncho-wearing marauders of various species, he turned to enter a small courtyard, the buildings surrounding the space were seemingly unoccupied or little more than ruins. Standing under a hastily erected umbrella were a collection of Devaronian smugglers, led by a woman named Hunchi Vamond. She had been hired by the Dark Lord through proxies to locate a device long thought lost to the galaxy, one few would seek to unleash after millennia hidden away in the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim. Something important enough that Nefaron would come in person to collect instead of dispatching another servant to bring it to him on Anoat.
"Could have done this in the cantina, or even aboard my ship-"
The woman seemed taken aback when she got a glimpse of the Corpse Lord, his hood briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning. She quickly composed herself.
"No offense to your choice of local, Lord Nefaron-"
"Do you have it?"
The sudden interruption from Nefaron once more caught the smuggler off guard, but she cleared her throat and beckoned to one of her men to bring forward a sealed case. The Corpse Lord approached, but a rather brave hand rose to block his path.
"No offense, my Lord, but we have been on the hunt for this thing for months, searching 17 different systems. We would like to know if this was worth all the trouble or if you intend to kill us."
At the suggestion, two of the smugglers tightened their grips on their blasters, and Nefaron's goons did the same. But the Corpse Lord simply chuckled and beckoned for one of his men to bring a case of their own forward. With a nod from the Sith Lord, the case was opened to reveal a dazzling collection of jewels. While credits would have sufficed, Nefaron preferred to keep transactions of this sort off the record. These jewels were actually smuggled out of the Royal Palace on Ukatis during the Sith's attempted coup d'état, which did not succeed but still gained Nefaron much in the way of valuable assets and filled his coffers for transactions such as this.
"As promised, I will not waste valuable agents if you have indeed brought me what I have asked."
Hunchi, more than satisfied along with her men, allowed Nefaron to take hold of the case in their possession. Laying his cane aside, he opened the case to reveal but fragments of what appeared to be a crown of some sort. But this was not something a monarch would ever want to wear atop their head, for doing so would lead to endless madness and a death far more painful than they could ever imagine.
This was the Ravager.
A weapon created by the Sith Emperor Vitiate in the days of the Old Republic.
A weapon designed to rip a being's mind apart and force them to reveal even their deepest secrets.
Jedi and Sith alike could not resist its power.
And now Darth Nefaron was about to possess a weapon none could withstand.
A weapon created by the Sith Emperor Vitiate in the days of the Old Republic.
A weapon designed to rip a being's mind apart and force them to reveal even their deepest secrets.
Jedi and Sith alike could not resist its power.
And now Darth Nefaron was about to possess a weapon none could withstand.
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