Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Endure

R Y L O T H

The struggle of survival amidst a vicious environment was not one foreign to the Sith Lord.

From birth, he had walked the sands of Mandalore - living in defiance of the desert that sought to consume he and his people. This very same boldness would color his loyalties for the whole of his natural life. From the time of his adolescence to his eventual demise amidst Mandalore's explosion, Darth Metus thought first of his kin and culture. He lived in the hopes of keeping them away from the clutches of Arasuum - Stagnation - and worked to guide them away from petty, internal squabbles. He wanted to unite them. He wanted them to thrive. But, in the end, this was a lost cause.

In death, his eyes were opened.

Upon rising from the ash of his homeworld, Darth Metus looked upon who and what he was. Although he stood upon a Mandalorian foundation, the Dark Side was the blood which ran hot through his veins. And yet, he felt no desire to flock to the banner of the darkest regimes. He felt no tug towards the Imperial might which had finally reclaimed the ancestral, Sith homeworld. It took some time to understand why he preferred to walk a different path - to always carve out a place for himself and those who followed. And the reason was, simply, Survival. Just as he had toiled in the name of his culture, so too did he struggle to ensure he would withstand the inevitable collapse came of the Sith.

Time and Time again, they would rise from the shadows. They would taste dominance and bring the Galaxy to its knees. But it would never last. The Light would rise against it - each and every nation under the stars would rally and destroy whatever Empire had been wrought by the Sith. And they would then scatter, once more, into the shadows. To become a piece of this vicious cycle of dominance and destruction was not a part of Darth Metus' vision for himself. And thus, as he raised his Confederacy around him, he created a new path for those like him. He offered a chance for his kind to Survive when all else rises against the Darkness. And today, he gathered them together.

He called them Dark Acolytes. A name bestowed in memory of those who had come long before under the banner of the Confederacy. And, in a rare display of progression, he opened their midst to those of supreme skill, yet devoid of Sensitivity as well. This day, both halves of His order would gather together within the Wastes of Ryloth. Kilometers away from prying eyes, in the midst of sprawling sands and rock formations would they find the Vicelord. Hooded. Slashed in black. Standing beside his own speeder bike. He had instructed them to come with haste, for the journey that awaited their kind was going to be turbulent.

But.

He would guide them.

He would ensure their Survival in the face of it all.

[member="Srina Talon"], [member="Akabane"], [member="Mirvak"], [member="The Fallen"], [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="Darth Atrox"], [member="Darth Malus"], [member="Kurenai Yumi"], [member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Ryvan Tau'rae"], [member="Nyx"], [member="Ignis Imura"], [member="Natasha Darkstar"], [member="Darth Kentarch"]
 
It was barely a month since Er'in had fled - and fled was the right word, even if she would admit that to no one - Hapes with Darth Metus, her new master. Force, how she hated that word. She hated the fact that he was a man, even more. But all he did was laugh and point out that hate gave her strength. She wondered if every Sith Acolyte longed to shove their training down their masters' throat? Probably. The very process by it's nature had to set out to break you, to free your mind and unshackle your passions.

Which is why she hated perhaps a bit less, or a bit more than to begin with - she really wasn't sure. But she didn't allow that emotion to cloud her judgement, all of her journey time had been spent reading copies of his vast selection of occult texts, after that... incident in the library, with the summoning, she'd become a little more cautious. But the words of Darth Sideous came back to her 'Anger must be leashed with intellect, lest it consume you, and the dark side consume you with it.'

Of course, Sideous was dead along with all the rest of the would-be conquerors, so she didn't entirely place faith in his words - or any of their words - at least many of the Jedi records she had came from men and women who'd died peacefully in their beds at ripe old ages. Still not what she'd prefer - but immortality, that final shackle, seemed a tricky one indeed.

Still, her master had summoned her and so she came, as she circled in the air above on the back of Kinta the immense coal black and red Sky Demon she claimed as her own now, at least on Ryloth - getting Kinta anywhere else was... troublesome. She didn't like confined spaces and tended to eat handlers who were not Er'in Tenel. They'd lost two arms and five droids learning that, so Kinta now lived a life of luxury in the Rylothian wilderness, answering her partner's call whenever Er'in felt the need to take flight or make an impression.

Like now. It was odd, given the joy she knew Metus took in flight, she thought he would have rode here rather than taking a speeder. Particularly since he was in his formal black robes, which meant they were about to get serious. She'd dressed as she often did now - in her imbued robes, because you never quite knew when a Sith Lord who took a passion in creating fear was going to test you.

Kinta alighted a short distance from Metus - apparently she was first - and Er'in sighed with regret as she felt the beastbond fade and the sensation of wingbeats pass from her perception, Kinta made a friendly roar, kicking up dirt and rocks as Er'in slid off her neck and walked over to Metus, then took off to find a roost on one of the nearby rocky peaks.

She bowed, letting none of her thoughts show - a technique she was getting better at, at least - even if she couldn't project a single one. She could cut a man in half with a lightning bolt, spell or sword, however, which she personally deemed an acceptable replacement, if a frustrating one. She hadn't expected this all to be so... difficult.

"Master."

Her tone could not be more respectful or more neutral, but she was cautious, since Metus radiated unconcious menace any time Srina wasn't distracting him - and something odd had started there in the last week or two, something that had happened while she was on her tour of Sith digsites and firefights.

[member="Darth Metus"]​
 

Darth Atrox

Guest
D
A shuttle materialised from the void of space as it transcended from hyperspace to realspace and to those sensitive to it, the darkness emanating from its core was almost sickening, and the alignment of the Force Sensitive within the spacecraft was undeniable even to those with the smallest grasp of the Force.

Darth Metus had called to the rogues of the Galaxy, the exiles and the remnants of an ancient order who had not pledged themselves to the new superpower emerging in the northern reaches of the Galaxy. The Sith Lord had managed to keep his temptations to flock, like the masses of Sith had, to the Sith Empire.

Darth Atrox had been apart of the One Sith Empire, he had been an acolyte, a knight and for a brief few months a Lord within the great Sith faction, and he had been utterly dismayed upon its dissolution. The One Sith had faded to the pages of history, just as Karak Kozen had. The Sith had swore that he would not be apart of yet another Empire's downfall.

However, he found it difficult to resist the beckoning of the Lord of Dread.

lIhZpkf.png
A lone speeder bike ripped across the wastes of Ryloth, the repulsorlift kicking up stones and sand with terrifying violence and the bike's engines sang a high pitched melody. Aboard it was a lone Zabrak, draped in a black shroud which was billowing behind him like a great plume of ebon smoke, whipping and contorting in the wind. His hood had long since been tore from its comfortable mantle upon his horned skull, and now instead blew behind him with equal ferocity to the rest of his clothing.

Darth Atrox halted the speeder a few metres away from Sith, one of which's name was unfamiliar to him, but her utterance of "Master." betrayed her position of apprentice to the Sith Lord. The Zabrak had quietly re-enveloped himself in his cloak and hood, which cast a shadow across the upper portion of his face revealing just a crimson maw, slightly agape to reveal a menacing dentition of ivory colour. Visible tattoos ran down his face; jagged as lightning and as dark as the sickly aura which he had brought from his transport to the surface.

"[member="Darth Metus"], I am humbled by your invitation." Karak announced, his eyes barely prominent from behind the penumbra of his hood. "Darth Atrox." he continued, making a small motion with his hand toward himself. He directed his introduction to both Sith.
Srina Talon @Akabane @Mirvak The Fallen Daxton Bane Darth Malus Kurenai Yum, Katria Vekarr Ryvan Tau'rae @Nyx Ignis Imura @Natasha Darkstar @Darth Kentarch​
 
It was rare that Natasha was out in this kind of wastes and rarer still that she did so alone. The speeder's roar echoed along the canyon walls, thundering with the wrath of mechanical muscles. She wanted a vantage point, a place to watch from, observe the others, gain an upper hand. She stood at a massive disadvantage here, in a way that she could never match: She lacked the Force. No mystical calling, no supernatural power, had gifted or chosen her to be special. Far from it. She had clawed her way here through sheer will, training, and dumb luck. All with the help of a man who should not have lived as long as he did.

And because of him, she drove through the Ryloth Wasteland to meet with a man she knew by name and deed alone. The old coot held Metus in admiration, in a way that she had almost never heard him speak of anyone. Maybe it was nostalgia, maybe bias, but if Strask looked up to him, she could give him a chance. And the government he had wrought had been worth the effort. The peace they had may mean no one would have to live as she had, at least as long as they held it. But there must always be those who made the sacrifice for that peace.

That was where they came in.

He awaited them in the middle of nowhere. A place hard to spy on, and harder to find. But she knew where to look. If nothing else, the massive dragon would give them away. At least, if anyone followed them there. In the back of her mind, she wanted to sweep the perimeter, to check for anyone who wasn't supposed to be here. But then, she didn't know who was on the invite list. They were to be the personal hand of Darth Metus, the blade in the shadows and the whisper in the night. There it was, the twisting in her gut. She hated that term.

Darth.

The title gave her shivers, made her feel sick. She's never met a Sith in the flesh, not officially at least, and from what she had heard she wasn't looking forward to it. The last time she had seen one, he had been trying to buy her. The prices he had offered for her, for the other girls... She shuttered to think what had happened to Ria and the others. He had been dark and chaotic. Strask had said they had gone to One Sith space and that there was no point in chasing them. If they were lucky, they'd have a decent home with their new master. Otherwise... She didn't want to think about it.

He stood hooded, in black robes, in the middle of nowhere. She stopped the speeder, studying the others for a moment. A young woman, calling him master. An apprentice? A servant? Maybe both? She seemed to hold him in reverence. And hate his guts. She knew that feeling. Remind you of anyone? He was smiling, or he would be if he still could. She ignored him. The other girl wasn't powerful yet, at least, not to the level of the others.

She could feel the darkness they carried, the dread they radiated. And she feared them.

The speeder parked behind one of the stones, and Natasha stopped to listen. To see how much attention they had paid to her arrival.

[member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Er'in Tenel"] | [member="Darth Atrox"]​
 
To do what we must, this is lesson that rang true with Daxton Bane in his quest to break the cyclical nature of the Force. For he knew that order and peace were lies told to the foolish and weak minded, it always brought about entrophy and decay. To move forward required hard sacrifices, thus he was branded a villain and a firebrand. It mattered little to Daxton, for he knew that unless genuine change was brought, the galaxy was doomed to repeating the mistakes of the past.

Seemingly appearing out of thin air, the Dark Lord wore a simple crimson tunic worn commonly by Red Raven commissioned officers. Three sabers hung from his belt and heavy blaster hung from its dark brown holster. His features were obscured by a simple reflective face plate, that prevented anyone from seeing his face. Cutting a dashing figure, there was an unmistakable aura of power and competence that seemed to exude from his pores.

Bowing politely to [member="Darth Metus"], no introductions need be made, for they had both traveled the same long and hard road together. He merely waited for the others to gather so that they could begin.
 
War... war never changed, though only a teenager in the years of a vampire, Kurenai had been exposed to more war and violence then any being should, born in the years leading up to the clone wars oh so many years ago. New about the 4 year galaxy wide war, the countless dead on both sides, before order 66 and the dreaded order 37 which had sent the once pure and kind child down a path of darkness and violence.

In those following year Kurenai had quickly learned about her vampiric powers and connection to the force, though not having any teacher to guide her, refusing to join with the Empire due to the unyielding hate towards the clone troopers and the so called emperor that had issued the contingency orders. As Kurenai had learned to hid her force signature, joining one of the many rebel cells that had risen to fight the empire, fighting as a ground trooper in many battles, Hoth and Endor among those, doing her small part to free the galaxy from tyranny and bring back peace... she was such a young a foolish child.

In the past 800 years nothing had changed, and Empire would rise, people would fight, it would fall, peace would come from a time before the whole cycle came again, neither the Sith nor Jedi learning from their mistakes. Kurenai fighting in war after war. Though not progressing much in terms of force powers the energy vampire had become a master in her own right in terms of CQC and know how to use almost any weapon thrown her way. Now that had changed, with the new CIS and own, but allusive but unknown to others, master even older then herself, Kurenai was ready to use her delve deeper into the force.

That still did not mean she was sociable, standing off to the side as people arrived one by one, misses noble no it all, two Zabaraks, typical of Sith Lords and some woman that Kurenai had seen once or twice, but otherwise all being new, all powerful, but still so young and rash in their actions. "May I ask when we will begin Metus"?

[member="Daxton Bane"] l [member="Natasha Darkstar"] l [member="Darth Atrox"] l @Er'in Tenel l [member="Darth Metus"]
 
The habitable area of Ryloth was set in an odd sense of twilight. Depending on how close they made it to the line between what was considered safe, the climate was either bright and blistering, or dark and freezing. The trek from Sinner’s Well had been uneventful, save, for the fact that Etrigan had chosen to join her. The Catra'diamtr was irrationally protective and had snapped at every beast that came just a little too close to her speeder, despite the fact that nothing presented any real danger, not when she was little more than a blur. Srina had responded to the call of Darth Metus, as usual, without the capacity to resist. He was the moon and she the tide. She could do little more than obey.

Srina had no idea what this gathering was for. The white-haired Echani had just returned from visiting a new friend and had barely unpacked, when she felt a certain pull on the fabric of her being, wrapped in undeniable power. The soothing tenor of her Master’s voice had echoed in her mind and welcomed her home the moment the Ferocity passed through the atmosphere. His presence was warm to her, steadfast, and everything that it always was. Silver eyed flickered. She’d forgotten how difficult it could be to remain at a distance for so long. Even now, with the dreadlocked man in sight, she felt bereft.

The events that had taken place in the Forge that Darth Metus had hidden beneath his fortress, Sinner’s Well, had taken a toll on both of them. True to her word, the alabaster beauty had forgiven him, however, she had not yet forgotten. Only time could fully heal that wound.

As such, she did not immediately return to her Master’s side, not as she had in the past. There were not new allies she needed to impress by showing a unified front. These were Dark Acolytes with loyalties that should have already been clear. Some of their ranks would enjoy it far more if she never made an appearance at all. Oh, how the Master’s so-called favorite had fallen. Instead, she stood on the edge of a cliff face just above the black robed Sith Lord, the stark white of her formal traveling dress billowing in the wind. Her garb was partially armor, and partially silk, with an ivory cloak hiding lengths of moonlit hair. It was ironic. So much pale fabric on Ryloth would not remain pristine for long.

Eventually, everything became tattered shades of grey.

If Darth Metus called for her, she would descend in one swift step that would lead into a deadfall. He would know that she was near, as he always did, and she felt little need to announce it. Otherwise, the slender young woman would remain with Etrigan, whose wings came to arc around her form. A reptilian face and a maw full of razor sharp teeth dropped over her shoulder, and she reached up, letting her palm rest against its jaw. Smooth reddish black scales felt like polished steel beneath her fingertips and the Sky Demon made low growl that caused a distant smile to cross over primrose lips.

Easy Eti…”, she murmured, willing the beast to settle in the presence of so many it was unfamiliar with. He wasn’t comfortable with so many new scents in the air, and he certainly didn’t like them near his mistress. Her voice was soothing as she sought to bring her familiar some sort of peace. There was someone in the valley below that Etrigan did not like. “Amin sinta…Aphado nin. ” [I know…Stay with me.]

The Catra'diamtr shrieked and rustled its leathery wings, the sound no doubt causing discomfort to anyone who heard, but Srina remained still and unmoved. Despite the terrifying creature that hovered around her, there was no fear within her, and there never would be. They had long since come to terms. Etrigan made a trilling noise in the back of his throat, resonating with displeasure, but in the end, followed her lead. The meaning of patience was completely lost to him but the white-haired apprentice could ask for little more than continued good behavior. At least, the Sky Demon hadn’t decided to try and eat anyone. She couldn’t promise that would remain the case, but for now, it would do.

[member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Natasha Darkstar"] | [member="Darth Atrox"] | [member="Er'in Tenel"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Kurenai Yumi"]

trash post sorry guys
 
One by one, the Sith felt the chill of their arrival.

From above, the skies were first filled with the shrieks of a literal Sky Demon. The reptilian beast sliced through the air with massive beats of its wings - bearing its rider safely to the desolate wastes below. [member="Er'in Tenel] quickly departed from her place upon its spine, stepping forth to bow before her Master. As she came, the aroma of her presence yet burned within his nostrils - the sweetness of honey and the spice of cinnamon always characterized the young Hapan. Yet, whilst he could perceive her choice in fragrance with ease, her mind was [I]silent[/I]. She had been practicing, and that alone was enough to coax a satisfied nod from her Master.

Next to arrive was a relic from a lifetime past. There was no mistaking the power or alignment of [member="Darth Atrox"], for he stained the heavens with his blackness upon breaching the atmosphere. Now, having joined the gathering did one Lord look upon another. He could see the ferocity which burned within his eyes - the very same that matched the whispers about this man he had heard so very long ago. The One Sith Empire was their common ground, for within the service of that dark regime did they both leave their old lives behind. On bended knee to the one, true Dark Lord did they receive their new names. Darth.

"And I am grateful that you have come." came Darth Metus' response. In the same manner, he then motioned towards the Hapan beauty before him. "Er'in Tenel, my Apprentice." The Sith Lord kept the introduction brief, as the roar of speeder engines drew his attention behind the two before him.

[member="Natasha Darkstar"] had made her arrival, but she did not draw near as the others had. The agent, most likely, felt out of place in this gathering. So, too, would the likes of [member="Katria Vekarr"] and the others lacking the gift of the Force. However, one thing that the Bothan stirring within the agent's mind knew was that Darth Metus always had a reason for his madness. In this instance, he drew inspiration from the defunct, One Sith Empire. In their waning years, they saw fit to recognize skill over sensitivity - and thus admitted, for the first time in their history, mortals of supreme ability to the Council. Darth Metus would not wait until the twilight years of the Confederacy to make this recognition know.

And thus would they stand among the Dark Acolytes - united under one cause and empowered to fulfill it.

To the distant agent was given direct eye contact and a motion of his hand - a sign for her to draw near to the gathering. What the Sith had in store would require...direct participation once they reached that point.

[member="Daxton Bane"] was the next Lord to arrive. Yet, unlike his contemporary Atrox, the Zabrak opted for a much more subtle arrival. His presence was a silent as a whisper - as if he had materialized out of the very ether. Yet, upon his timely arrive was a bow rendered to Darth Metus; one that returned with an appropriate nod. There was no need for introductions between the two men, for they had worked in close proximity to one another for decades. In the old Confederacy, they had stood together as members of its Order. In the wake of the old regime, they then worked together - briefly - to uplift the Red Ravens in Hutt Space. Thus, Darth Metus had always looked upon Daxton Bane favorably; and would always continue to do so.

[member="Kurenai Yumi"] was the next to arrive. She was a relic of an era long since past - but appeared youthful in more ways than one. Of those who had assembled thus far, she had taken the most casual approach to greeting the Sith Lord, addressing him as solely Metus. The manner of speaking caused the man to loft a brow - yet for the sake of the proceedings he let this lapse slide. Only this once. However, the way his eyes bored into her skull would be more than enough to let the young Vampire know that she had misspoken.

"Very soon."

As for [member="Srina Talon"], he felt her long before she came. Unlike Darth Atrox, this was no due to the natural projection of one's strength; but rather due to a Bond that had been forged on the day that they had met. Providence had placed the young Echani into his life and into his care - and for the past several months it ached to be apart for long. When she had returned to Ryloth this day, it felt as though winter had lifted. When she finally arrived within earshot of her Master, it felt as though the cold of her absence had finally melted away. Yet she was not where she belonged. His transgressions had, in truth, caused a rift to form between Master and Apprentice.

But Sins be damned, her place was at his side.

And she would feel this truth roiling through the Force. A tug in response to her presence. A silent need. A quiet demand. And once the Echani stepped down from above...and once the agent drew closer...would the Sith begin to address them all.

"Our way of life is under constant threat. To simply exist is to challenge all creation - and it is only a matter of time before that challenge is answered. The Confederacy that we have built together is strong, but in order for our way of life to be maintained, there must be those among us willing to make the hard choices. There must be those willing to drench their hands in blood if it means preserving what we hold dear."

His introduction was carefully worded and spoke to all present on a personal level.

For the Sith, like himself, to simply exist is to challenge the Light and their fellows. To not bow to the greater regime was to accept the constant threat on the horizon.

For the others, these words spoke of their place within the Confederacy. This nation would have become a home for many - for them especially - and now an Imperial warmachine stood hungry at their door. To simply exist is to challenge every conquest loving sod to stifle the light of their freedom.

"And so I have called you to me - to serve as my Dark Acolytes. Follow me not as your King or your God - follow me as a son follows his Father. I will be your Guide. Give to me your loyalty, and I will see that our way persists. Give to me your strength, and I will see that we survive."

At this moment, the Sith Lord outstretched his dominant hand.​

Black sparks began to dance upon his palm.​

Wisps of shadow began to rise into the air.​

An inferno of midnight flames erupted upon his hand.​

"Brave the depths of this flame as your answer. Join into covenant with me - accept the survival that I offer...

"...And be rewarded"

[member="Er'in Tenel"], [member="Darth Atrox"], [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="Natasha Darkstar"], [member="Kurenai Yumi"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Darth Kentarch"], [member="Akabane"], [member="Darth Malus"], [member="Mirvak"], [member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Ryvan Tau'rae"], [member="Nyx"], [member="Ignis Imura"]​
 
Without a single moments hesitation, Daxton stripped the gauntlet that covered his left forearm, allowing everyone a rare glimpse at horror that the armor hid. From the wrist up was covered with a living horde of orbalisks of various sizes, crawling on top of each other, pulsing in the pure amounts of Dark Side energy, yet strangely unlike their natural inclication to strike was not present, ever since Daxton melded with their consciousness, they were a part of him as he was a part of they.

Thrusting his clenched fist into the flame, he turned to [member="Darth Metus"] and said, “I pledge my blades to your cause, for now until the end of time. This I swear.”

As he uttered the last word, a very faint but dinstinct sound of a horde of unseen voices pledged their service as well, service and fidelity to their master’s master as well.
 

Darth Atrox

Guest
D
The Sith Lord would not show haste for long, and soon after his fellow Zabrak did the Dark Acolyte withdraw a crimson fist from deep within the folds of his clock, and push it into the ebon flames which licked and tickled at his hands. They were cold, yet warm and they reminded Karak of the adoration he held for the Bogan. Darth Atrox was addicted to the Darkside, he relished in the power it granted him and involuntarily, the smallest crackle of Sith energy jumped between his fingertips as the midnight flame engulfed him.

Upon immersion into the flame, something exploded deep within the Sith, a long dormant fissure waiting for the moment to burst open and release a torrent of dark energy, filling his veins with the Bogan, causing near invisible lines to draw across his face around his eyes, and for midnight circles to gather on his lids. Karak had to do all he could to stop himself from exclaiming as the power surged within him, almost to the point where he could not handle the darkness seeping from the deepest abyss of his soul but he persisted. All of a sudden, he was deeply aware of everything around him. The dragon and silver lady on the peak, the non-Sensitives within their ranks, the rocks tumbling from the dragon's claws.

He found it all a little overwhelming, and it felt as if this level of attunement had been lost, disregarded somewhere on Dathomir to be lost to the shackles of the dangerous world. Yes, something had awoken within the Sith Lord; and whatever it was, Atrox revelled in it.

The barbaric eyes appeared to burn even brighter, and a deep voice sounded to his new master - no, a new ally - "Speak thy bidding and it shall be done." the sound appeared to come not from the Sith Lord himself, but from the very air and dissipated into a hiss as it travelled through the still air. Again, he had not planned for this - an unfortunately eerie side effect of his reawakening, and he quietly vowed to keep a lid upon his control. Oh, how he had missed the compelling nature of the darkness, and how it oh so warmly enveloped him, and kept him from harm.

It was time for Darth Atrox to rekindle the flames of the past and return to the Galaxy. His hand slipped from the flames to allow for the next Acolyte. The sensation abated slightly, and he stole a glance at his hands which still crackled with static electricity.

@Er'in Tenel, [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="Natasha Darkstar"], [member="Kurenai Yumi"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Darth Kentarch"], [member="Akabane"], [member="Darth Malus"], [member="Mirvak"], [member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Ryvan Tau'rae"], [member="Nyx"], [member="Ignis Imura"]
 
Edric stood near [member="Darth Metus"] with his hands tucked into his pockets, his saber slide up his sleeve and his face shaded by a hood that came from the cloak he wore. It hadn't been too difficult for Edric to reach the place where Metus was assembling his students and the other members of this order he had created. Atleast, it was not as hardas he had expected it to be. This man was someone he had learned of from the moment that he had been adopted and brought into his father's family. Sometimes Solan talked about Metus like a friend, other times like a brother, and other times like a father, it all depended on the situation. That was something that Edric liked to think about, knowing his own habit for putting on facades and acts to disguise how he was. Today though, there was no act, at least not yet.

He was interested in learning just who it was that Metus trained and how he trained them. That was why he had requested joining the Sith and why he found himself standing near Metus, though sure to keep a good distance so to not provide a constant distraction to Metus' order. If they wished to approach him, he would give Metus more than enough room to continue what ever it was that he intended to teach without interruption. Of course, that's what Edric thought this was, just some simple lesson like his training had been. He had spent time studying, practicing and joining in lessons that his father gave him and his sister, though his sister's teachings were very limited.

He would soon be caught by surprise as his eyes focused on a certain individual who he had met before. Someone he did not know was a member of this order and he could not stop the grin on his face at seeing @Er'in Tenel. He was kind enough to remain silent, not wanting to distract from Metus' teachings so quickly, but this was a development that he was certain to study later. After all, he would love to get in another round with the woman, especially now one that would be in a far more controlled setting.

The next he noticed was [member="Natasha Darkstar"], who was... different. Edric's eyes turned to her with an inquisitive stare, wondering why she did not feel like the others, such as [member="Darth Atrox"] and [member="Daxton Bane"] for instance. He tried to wrap his head around it but for now he abandoned the line of inquiry as Metus was talking again. He talked of how their way of life was under threat, which made Edric laugh a tad on the inside. If anything this creation of Metus' appeared to have plenty of life being bred and would expand. The line did inspire a bit though, which Edric eventually assumed was the purpose. These people were not Jedi being hunted by Sith, or people on the run from some greater force, they had the Confederacy to call home, and as one of those protectors Edric would defend them just as he would anyone else.

Something else hit the back of his head though, a familiar person who was coming soon enough. His smile faltered for a second, not out of a dislike, but rather that he would have thought that man would be here already.

As he focused back on the others, he soon found Metus conducting a ritual with his students, something that made him make a comment within his head.

'These people are willingly sticking their hand in that... crazy or not, they certainly put alot of trust into Metus...'


[member="Srina Talon"] [member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
Akabane was running late... again. The others had already made it to the location when he arrived. Well, more than the few that he expected to see. It appeared they gained a few in numbers. He would've loved to meet the new people, but their master started the meeting. Luckily, he heard the speech Metus gave. That was a close one. Any longer and he would've missed it.

He recognized almost every person, Er'in and Srina were the most familiar to him though. Akabane grinned when he first saw Er'in. On Jakku they had their differences and he recalled that time, he felt the situation was a laughable one. Her feelings on the matter were most likely different but he didn't hold grudges. He didn't take it seriously in the first place anyway. Akabane's mouth formed an O as his eyes fell on Edric, an acquaintance from that same eventful day on Jakku. A second encounter wasn't on his mind so he was very surprised. He'd walk towards Edric while maintaining some focus on the others.

Daxton was the next one he'd recognized as he got closer to Edric. At the library, right? he was in thought. This man moved forward and put his hand into the lit flame above Metus' hand. Another oath? It looked that way to him. Akabane put on a smile, now standing next to Edric, and started a conversation. "Admiral Vanyan, we meet again. Are you here for round three?" he asked forming a half grin. His attention went back to Metus when another stepped forward and placed a hand into the flame. Akabane would do the same eventually, he was a patient man at times like this one. "Master knows how to put on a show." he commented.

[member="Darth Metus"] | [member=Er'in Tenel] | [member="Darth Atrox"] | [member="Natasha Darkstar"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
Kurenai relied back slightly at the deep stare Metus gave her, proceeding to role her eyes and letting out a defeated sigh, 'fine if that is what he wishes, Sith Lords and their titles'. Breaking away from the wall she leaned against the still considered young by vampire standards warrior mingled in among the group as the last few people arrive, the beginning of what ever ritual they were to participate in drawing ever closer. She was eager to see what would become of those who had gathered today a very diverse crew which at that, ranging from the most powerful of Sith lords to the accomplished skill agents, witches as well as those who had yet to climb the ranks.

The rousing speech that followed and display of power was something she would have expected from some cult worship, the part about Metus saying to be a god making her raise an eyebrow, not being the first person to say similar things in her life time, though unlike others he was much more deserving of such a title, being much more in tune with those that followed him, a leader, not a boss compared to Sith lords that preceded him.

Unsurprisingly the first to commit to the oath and gain this new power where the two Zabaraks, being rather stereotypical power hungry of both Sith and their own kind, [member="Daxton Bane"] pledge being short and uneventful, almost as if the power he had gained from the ritual was easily contained inside, not showing much emotion. [member="Darth Atrox"], who bore a striking resemblance to Darth Maul, reaction being more volatile, darkness seeping out, his response, that of a person possessed by otherworldly means, before quickly regaining control and stepping away.

Kurenai took her own step up to the plate, removing the finger-less glove of her right hand, revealing rather normal looking skin compared to the last two, but pale from lack of sunlight. Without hesitation, she placed her fist in the flame, a hot heat enveloping it, but nothing compared to the feel of a sabre being driven through one’s chest "Watashi wa anata no sābisu ni watashi no ha to jinsei o yakusoku shimasu". Would anyone understand her pledge of loyalty? probably not, but the use of her adopted mother tongue was a sign of her seriousness in the pledge to Metus. Within an instance a surge of power came over her, a boost that felt very unnatural, but oh so invigorating to her body, before slowly dying away, but still pulsating within.

Slowly Kruenai withdrew her arm, the hand being visible scorched and burnt, but quickly healing, visible for those around to see, hinting to her vampire lineage, a secret whom only Metus, her master, family and a few close friends knew about. Done with her pledge the Dark Jedi gave a short bow to Metus, uttering a small thank you, yet again in the Ribena-Jin Yuganese dialect before stepped away from the basin, allowing the next member to take their stand and baptize their arm in the all-powerful fire.

[member="Akabane"] l [member="Edric Vanyan"] l [member="Srina Talon"] l @Er'in Tenel l [member="Darth Metus"] l [member="Natasha Darkstar"] l
 
They're on your side. The words echoed in her mind as those burning eyes met hers, and he beckoned her forward. For the briefest of moments, that fear, an almost palpable dread, rooted her feet, holding her in a place where she could still reach her speeder. Where she could still run. She knew it was pointless. If they wanted her dead, she would be dead already. The spy couldn't count the ways that these titans of abyssal power could end her before she could respond. She was more or less at their mercy. The thought terrified her. Cold, mechanical eyes scanned the Sith Lord, studying his face, his posture, his motions. Nothing seemed threatening. At least, not yet.

She stepped forward, pressing those fears down into the depths of her mind and that feeling to the bottom of her gut. She was chosen to stand here. To be a part of this. Heh. You really got your money's worth, old man. Guess I was worth the 75,000 credit investment after all. A bitter smile flashed across her face, only to vanish just as fast. This was business. She had to stay focused.

He spoke of a life under threat, of doing the dirty work and making the hard choices to keep the government running. Or maybe about the religious war these Sith had with the Jedi. Or maybe both. She wasn't sure. Still, the sentiment was one she shared, and she suspected most in her line of work would say the same. A shadow to support the Confederacy's light. But his words, as they continued, became more... Problematic. She could follow a man, obey orders, maybe even look up to him, but this? It almost seemed too much to ask.

Cold eyes blinked as the fire popped into existence, the dark pupil shifting slightly as the cybernetic flipped through the spectrum. It wasn't hot, the A.I. reported, or at least not enough to burn. Probably some Force creation. Here she was, a fox among wolves, and he offered some trial, a ball of stygian flame to seal this pact. What would it do to her? The rational part said it would be different than what the others received, for better or for worse. Another step, She could reach it now.

None of the others hesitated. None of the others cared. The agent looked up at Darth Metus, her eyes holding something between grudging acceptance and fear. A shaking hand entered the flame as her eyes closed. It was hot, the fire licking her hand, filling it with warmth, spreading up her arm. Her teeth locked together, and her eyes opened again, moving to look at the fire. "I pledge my talents and my life to the Confederacy and to her Vicelord." Chosen words, chosen phrasing. Her point was clear; She may be his servant, but she would serve the nation first. She hoped she never had to make good on that.

[member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Er'in Tenel"] | [member="Darth Atrox"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Kurenai Yumi"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Edric Vanyan"] | [member="Akabane"]​
 
A meeting of the Dark Acolytes. Simple enough said when one was holding a conversation about the operations of the order directly under Darth Metus, but when it splayed beyond words there was an unavoidable complexity.

The gathering was going exactly as the young agent had anticipated. Slow, preachy and unsettling. From a perch upon a small outcropping of rocks, high enough for her to have a decent vantage but not high enough that her back and head were exposed overhead to the elements, she observed the gathering. Her presence was necessary, as was her attention, but it wasn't long after she'd arrived that she put a good distance between herself and the arrivals as they showed one by one.

In fact, as she recognized several, there were some among the number that gathered around Metus that she couldn't recognize. Each invited curiosity, along with a familiar feeling of dread and hesitation in the face of the mystery that was The Force. As such, with a mild interest in the words Metus was delivering, she watched in dead silence as the meeting went from simply a gathering to a pledge of eternal loyalty. Or so that was how she began to interpret it as Metus presented a flame above his hand that the others dipped their hands in to.

It was that very act, as one hand after another addressed the flame as though it was a real burning vessel, that caused her to grit her teeth and clench her fists near bloody. Her right mind quickly diverted her hands to the disruptor pistol on her hip and the taozin amulet on around her neck. While she hadn't kept the amulet on her for the sake of hiding from Metus or any of the others, she wondered if they knew she was there. Watching them from from above and afar, keen eyes flicking from body to body. Was she honestly expected to pledge her service to the Sith the same as the others?

The question tied a knot in her stomach, a bitterness forming at the back of her throat as she hesitated to consider just what it might mean. It hadn't fully donned on her just how disturbed she was by the unfolding events until she noticed she'd gone from a lax position with a leg dangling over the side of the ledge to a tucked and defensive posture.

It was going to take more than loyalty to bring her hand near that flame.

[member="Darth Metus"]
 
Er'in watched, the slow coil of anger in her gut growing and flaring into life.

She hated ritual loyalty. She hated her parents. All her parents had ever given her was crippling debt and the potential life as some Hapan man - or woman's concubine to escape debt-bondage, when they could have given her the throne. She knew intellectually that wasn't their fault - but they hadn't even told her - mother had... gone away, leaving her to face the music on her own. A cowardice so bone deep she hadn't even been able to tell her own daughter that the family was failing.

Srina... something was wrong with Srina, she wondered where the other woman had gone. But now here she was, brooding. Er'in could brood - she was a professional brooder, but Srina really didn't have it in her cheerful, lively eyes. Perhaps Metus had finally shown her his darker sides? Srina was no Sith, that was for sure.

The new Sith Lord - pledging loyalty without a thought, the vampire... she didn't know the language, but she suspect reservation. The non-Force Users, rightly scared by the ritual and display of power.

And one who wasn't going to step forward. Interesting.

Er'in was, she confessed, in a bind. She needed Metus, she needed his resources and his teaching. She even quite liked him, as far as a man she immensely resented for putting her in this position went. But she was not about to swear undying loyalty to anyone, and that oath was too open ended for her taste.

She let the cloak of normality drop from her shoulders - she didn't suddenly transform, but even in a month the change was noticable, a dark and subtle fury radiating off her as she met her masters gaze - not without flinching, one doesn't meet a Dread Master's gaze without flinching when you're his apprentice, and terrible at mentalism to boot. But she met it, anyway, if only for long enough to ask her question and make her point.

"What?" She asked in a calm, level tone. "Does it do? How does this chain empower me? How does it set, me, free?" She bit off each of the last words, already something of a philosopher of the Sith Code, neck deep in ancient texts and datacrons, and she knew which part of the code mattered to her the most.

And she had a sudden vision, if she and Srina swore, one day they would cross blades. If she swore, one day she or Metus would die. There was no alternative. She shivered, but that only intensified her resolve.

[member="Darth Metus"]
 
Small, graceful fingers slid from the smooth scaled cheek of her Catra'diamtr. Etrigan huffed, displeased, but waited for her to fall before uttering a deafening screech. The winged, dragon-like creature, did not get as much time with his Mistress as he would have wished. Srina stepped over the edge of the cliff without thought, or hesitation, a fluttering vision in gossamer white. She dropped to the unforgiving ground below like a stone, until the very last moment, where telekinesis stopped her from breaking her bones like toothpicks. Her knees bent slightly, while the Force helped her absorb the impact, but otherwise, her posture remained stiff. It was the Echani way. Her way.

The silver-eyed warrior could feel her Master calling. Sinuous whispers, longing without words, and a less than subtle metaphysical demand that she come forward. Time seemed to shift, almost still, when the Echani stepped toward Darth Metus. Some were eager to partake of the flame. Some questioned it. Srina could see why, on both accounts, some of the Dark Acolytes would have adverse reactions. To ask them to accept such a gift went against all of their better natures.

Trust was a fickle thing. When it concerned their Master…She knew it better than anyone. What injured her the most, was that while she had trusted Darth Metus blindly from the moment of their meeting, there was still a lesson to be learned. It was…Ironic. Even in his failings he still managed to impart vital knowledge. In this case, he had unknowingly proven to her how blind and foolish she truly was.

Srina had forgiven him. Even a Sith Lord erred. She simply had yet to forget. It would take time for the wound he had inflicted to heal. The dreadlocked man was patient in many things. He simply had no patience for her distance and even less tolerance for her silence.

Beautiful [member=”Er’in Tenel”] asked the Sith Lord about the power he offered. Beneath the hook of her cloak, the little Echani could feel a smile begin at the kiss of her mouth. If her visions taught her anything, the future was always changing, always moving, in response to actions taken in the present. Very little remained set in stone, at least, not very clearly. Silver eyes flickered from face to face as she finally came to stand at her Master’s side. To this day, she did not bow, and she never would.

She reached for him, not for his outstretched hand, but to take hold of his shoulder. Through physical contact, especially with Darth Metus, her Force Sight was easy to trigger. Srina didn’t have to wait long. Her pupils dilated as she saw more than she wanted, but, exactly what she needed. The purpose of this black flame, of this mark, became clear. The alabaster skinned woman was already bound to Darth Metus in a way that most were not. This, was not so different. Instead of merely sharing thoughts and feelings they would also share in a portion of his power. ‘Will it not drain you—being tethered to so many?’

As always, her concerns lay for Darth Metus first, herself second. It was a mix of compassion and self-preservation. If the Sith Lord weakened, even for a while, it would make the Confederacy a target if news escaped their borders. Once she had his assurances, the quiet woman sighed, before letting her hand fall. How could she refuse? That he would give of himself, to ensure their security, was admirable.

Foolish, but admirable.

“In unity we will find strength. If we cannot be divided…We cannot be conquered. This offering is not without sacrifice. It is not without risk…But it is a choice everyone here will need to make alone. Each time we choose to go into battle we place ourselves in unimaginable danger. We choose to look death in the eye and dare it find us…”, she trailed off slowly, speaking softly to the Dark Acolytes that were assembled, with no amount of excitement or disdain. Srina, as always, geared toward the logical outcome. What was best for the many, versus the one. “In this we have the opportunity to make ourselves more resilient. To insulate ourselves from that which would do us harm. It is a tether, of sorts, but our Master...He takes more of the burden than any of us.”

This mark, if she understood her vision correctly, would remain binding until the Sith Lord died. Darth Metus had essentially handed each one of them motive, and means, to turn on him and drive a lightsaber through his back. That, was trust. It was more than trust. It was faith.

“Real power can never be obtained by allowing someone else to sacrifice in our stead. We must tear out our own hearts. We must tear them out, set them aside, and accept the fact that we may never get them back.”

Her fingertips found the flame as Srina finished speaking and she stilled, ethereal blackness racing up her arm, sweeping over snow white skin like spilled ink on a fresh page of paper. The apprentice gasped, surprised by the flood of strength, of power, and silver eyes briefly burned a corrupted, burnished gold. Ever did her choices pull at her core, bringing her closer, and closer to some grand conclusion.

She just couldn’t tell who she would be at the end. Either way, she would not back down. Not now.

The Dark Side energy faded away, disappearing as if it had never been, and she removed her hand from the fire. Gold eyes became pure silver once more, and the small woman stepped to the side, standing beside her Master, as he so wished it.

[member="Er'in Tenel"], [member="Darth Atrox"], [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="Natasha Darkstar"], [member="Kurenai Yumi"], [member="Akabane"], [member="Darth Malus"], [member="Mirvak"], [member="Katria Vekarr"], @Ryvan Tau'rae, [member="Nyx"], [member="Ignis Imura"], [member="Darth Metus"]
 
Where the others bore the Force like bright starbursts, Daxton was a dark swirling vortex that seemed to suck all light and energy, a black hole draining everything around him. Hand bathed in flames, the Sith bathed in raw naked power, he did not care who saw, eyes rolled back at the sensation of raw naked power coursed though his very fiber of his body.

Who could really say what this would mean, considering the raw power at his fingertips even before the ritual, save for the nagging sense of dread and foreboding that enveloped the group that seemed to get stronger the longer Daxton kept his hand in the flames.
 
Er'in sneered at Srina, then laughed lightly - no amusement in her tone at all.

"Pretty words, sister mine. But in the end, each of us can rely upon only one person, ourselves. A Sith's first, greatest and often only loyalty must be to themselves and their passions. That is what it means to be Sith, not to destroy a star system or control an Empire. To be free. Of love, of fear, of everything that chains us. To do as we will, to make the Force our servant. This binding is power, yes, but it comes at the same cost as all other such ties, our ultimate immortality in the Force."

She bowed to Metus.

"If you require my services, master, I am your servant."

Without another word she turned and walked away, a single gesture beckoning down her Sky Demon to allow her to leap onto it's back and vanish into the sky with a single mighty wingbeat.
 

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