Jumpstarting YOUR Awakening (Sith vs. OS)

[Via Dolorosa]

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Mindabaal​

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The One Sith, in all their glory, once dictated the rights and wrongs of the galaxy, with no opposing force powerful enough to challenge them. They could stroll through the galaxy, collecting worlds without worry, while destroying worlds under one false act, whilst rebuilding it under another false pretense. Some claimed it was for the better good, while others snickered behind the backs of their family with steeple hands of plotted destruction. Then came the Council, a chain to engulf any Sith foolish enough to feel they were a part of something great; while some Sith felt it was a constraint.​

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Through Victory My Chains Are Broken​

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It was such restricting chains that most Sith wanted to distance themselves from, chains and slavery, under a Dark Lord who failed to save himself; and those that worshiped him like a God. It was a fate that was long in the making, but the One Sith, those still loyal to a dying cause, would fight to the end.....​

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And The End Was Coming!​

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With the eyes of the One Sith looking east and south for trouble, they failed to comprehend that the real threat came from other Sith; the blade of death aiming at their backs. Jedi, Mando Clans, and the barely functional Republic had made their threat known, but it took a Sith to bring down the Sith.​

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A collection of Sith, waving a new banner, was working behind the scenes, not to stake a claim to what the One Sith barely held; but to reeducate them and open their eyes to their flaws; and greedy power grabbing hands. This Sith, this new collection, were not fully organized, but a Sith didn't need organization; just a cause and a common enemy, and this unknown Sith companionship had just that. Jedi....and Sith.​

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Was this to be a Sith Civil War? There was nothing civil about this hidden terror, but there would be war.​

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And It Begins.....​

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While the One Sith were busy shoring up their loosely held planets, a group of soldiers led by the once proclaimed traitor, the Sith Lady Darth Venefica, landed on the planet of Mindabaal; with one goal, eradicate their achievements just as they tried to do to hers. It wasn't about vengeance, really, but more about driving a plasma blade between the should blades of misguided fools. She didn't hate these Sith, she just needed a fountain to pour her hate into ; and this well needed filling.​

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"Shall I order the Corpse-Eaters to level the city?"​

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Tapping her index finger upon her pursed lips, she smiled and said, "If you have to ask Commander....then perhaps you aren't fit to lead." And with that, the Corpse-Eaters gained a new commander.​

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[member="Darth Ferus"]​

[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

[member="Seras Goto"]s​

[member="The Gray Assassin"]​

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@Any One Sith​

 

[Darth Ferus]

"I hear Corpse-Eater all the time, yet I've no idea what exactly they are." From the shadows as always a red cloaked figure came into the light. A smile played on his lips as he looked over to [member="Darth Venefica"] . A quick nod was offered. He, like her, had come to.. Re-educate the Sith. And enjoy a bit of experimentation. How would the One Sith react to this sudden and harsh betrayal of their own? And how would they react when their own were slaughtered mercilessly? Questions that needed answers.

"You'll have to show me one. But that's not what we're here for, aye? Tell me where you want me to go, and I shall see it done." This time it was his turn to follow Venefica instead of her following him. Oh how he looked forward to seeing where she would take him. Or them, as it was. [member="Daemora Fel"] , his newest acolyte, should also be there to learn and sow chaos. Ah, this had the makings of a good day.

 

[Via Dolorosa]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OumXyQGOkuk[/youtube]​

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Aggresively she reached out and took [member="Darth Ferus"] by the hand, leading him to the camp. The camp, unlike those that saw the traditional setting, held her beloved Corpse-Eaters, a group of will broken soldiers, whose sole purpose was to install fear upon the enemy by one taboo movement; eating the flesh of the fallen; or through joined gnashing of teeth of the living. They took no prisoners, but because an army fought through their belly; and what better source of nourishment could they find than the enemy. Some would call them, and their Mistress, cannibals, but the real description would be survivalists. It wasn't monstrous acts to survive, more than it was holy to give your life needlessly to a failed cause. And it was the galaxy, and the Jedi, that had turned this into a dog eat dog setting.​

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"Times had been trivial and harsh for me....especially as an exile and a traitor," she told him, gripping his hand tighter. "As the old Sith had once preached....we must survive where we can."​

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A group of captured Sith soldiers were led to a circle of blood drawn in the centre of the camp, each of her terror squad salivating with delight. "The Goddess Vahl has always deemed sacrifices made in her name....I just took it further."​

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With a simple nod, her boys and girls fell upon the captured enemy; ripping them limb from body whilst indulging in a buffet of ecstasy. Barring her new filed teeth, she added, "The Sith....as we once knew them Lord Ferus....have become cattle. Their misguided laws and beliefs would have undone the Sith as a whole....and I'm...no...we....are here to show them that some of us have evolved. Sadly, as you can see.....the One Sith have forsaken their soldiers in favour of self-preservation....and though I can respect their need to survive....I detest the manner in which they seek it. Death....to...the....blasphemers!"​

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"And as you can see.....they fail to challenge the real Sith!"​

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[member="Darth Ferus"]​

 

[Clovis Torcularis]

I stood aboard my Master's warship, waiting for her to call me down to lay waste to the Sith's holdings Unlike her, I didn't hate the One Sith, I hated everything about everything. I, under her leadership, began to find a place in the world, and though it wasn't something I imagined for myself when I accepted her as my Master, it was something I began to feel deeply connected. I hated her, and she knew this, and I hated her even more for putting me in the corner and withholding my talents. Still, she knew more than I did, so I took my assignment with strides.

Walking around the cold ship, I began to think of ways to make her understand I was more than a mere monster, but a monster that could kill with a cold heart. I saw here eat the flesh of her foes, and since my mask restricted me in partaking in such a ritual, my heart was there. Yet, she didn't trust me enough to bring me down to the planet. Was she protecting me? Highly doubtful. Was she testing my patience? Absolutely! She knew what I was capable of, yet, she chided me for exerting violence wothout restraint. Perhaps she was right. I've always acted first and dealt with the ensuing consequences later, and this, as she said, would be my greatest lesson to learn. But watching her kill, and her downgrading me for doing the same, made me think, was she prepping me for greatness or was she prepping me for something I could not foresee in myself.

[member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

The banner in that rested in Abyss hand was weathered, ripped apart on the edges. Yet it was still possible to see the insignia of the one sith imprinted one the blood red piece of cloth. The young acolyte looked at the people around him. The sith ascension ... or what was left of it. Ha had started with a small army but by now many had fallen by the hands of ths crusade and even more had left, disillusioned by their defeats. These still remaining were loyalist, true loyalists, fanatics ready to for their cause. Like Abyss these people saw something in the one sith man couldn't see: potential. Sure the organisation was breaking down and the sith once again began to turn on each other. That was the way of the sith, and while his hate burned brighter than ever, there was nothing personal to it. Would history happend any different Abyss would have stand on the enemies side, slaughtering one sith left and right. But he was the apprentice of Darth Ophidia, one of the last members of the dark council the highest instance the one sith had. In his hands rested the durasteel plate he wore the first time leading the ascension into battle, showing the same symbol than his banner. Slowly he strapped the plate to his chest, rising in front of his man. It was entirely possible that this was the last the the ascension would move into battle.

"Brothers ans sisters. This is our last stand. We ascended so the crusade would stumble and fall, but now we stand against an even more powerful enemy. Traitors, man and woman hungering for power. We have neither the man nor the material to win this battle. We do not have to. We will go down in a glorious bath of blood and bones, taking anyone anyone of them with us. For passion, for power, for victory."

From the man lout shouts erupted as they began to man the old military outpost close to the city the ascension had choosen as base, repeating the last words of their leader. Slowly the shouts changed, in between commands and orders from the higher ranking soldiers other words could be heard. "All hail to the ascended." Some of the man had spend to mucb time in close proximity to the sitg acolyte and slowly started to develop a madness similar to that of their leader.

The outpost wasn't a fortress, neither was it a bunker. It was just a few duracrete blocks, secured by a fence and a wall with several watchtowers. It was originally build as a short term station for long marches and so it wasn't surprising that had been abandoned. And so it was that Abyss the ascended watched as his man armed the watchtowers, reloaded their weapons and ducked behind every egde or corner, any cover they could find, awaiting their final battle.

[member="Clovis Torcularis"] [member="Darth Venefica"] [member="Darth Ferus"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Ferus watched the feast without the slightest twitch of disgust. Or approval. He had no place to judge after all, not with what he's done in the past. Though as the corpse became little more than bone soaked in blood with the occasional bit of meat left, he raised a hand. The body was lifted up quickly and brought out of the reach of the hungry, and placed before the red cloaked man.

He had no army behind him. No loyal soldiers, no sithspawn horde. Instead, he had something few would dare to claim.

The dead.

Incoherent words escaped his mouth as he raised a hand over the dead body. Visible darkness seeped into the bloodied skeleton, until it twitched. It violently jerked, as if waking up from a nightmare. The dead rose, cracking and popping as it moved. Hollow eyes first looked at the Sith Lord himself, then to [member="Darth Venefica"] , then to [member="Clovis Torcularis"] . And it screamed.

A hollow, broken scream as if it was still in pain. Another movement of Ferus's hand silenced it, and it simply stood there, staring directly at Clovis with his empty eyes.

"I've learned a trick or two. To watch someone you considered a comrade eaten alive before you is truly horrifying. To watch their mangled corpse rise and come to end your life, mind shattering. They refuse to serve the true Sith in life, so I shall make them in death."

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss was walking up and down inside on of the buildings of the outpost. He had told his man that this would be their last fight, a glorious suicide mission in the name of their devotion to the one sith. It worked to rally them, motivate them, giving them the bloodlust they would need in this battle. Still Abyss wasn't the type of man to die for something as worthless as glory or honor. There had to be a more elegant, a more simple way to face the enemy. One that wouldn't end in his certain death. His thoughts raced, playing trough every scenario the acolyte could imagine. There was no way forward and none backwards. The ships in the orbit would make it hard for them to retreat and they had far to less man to go into an offensive. To calm himself down he began to sileni recite the sith code, repeating the words over and over. Then suddenly he knew. The sith code once again held the answer for his questions. This time he didn't stood against jedi or mandalorians, he stood against sith like himself. The sith were an order of individualists but they still shared believes.

He gestured on of the communication officers over to him, waiting as the man who had struggled with getting any information from the city walked over to him.

"I need to send a message. Open frequencies, I want anyone to hear it."

With a few moves on the interface the man prepared the transmission, until he nodded at Abyss to signal the he could begin. Abyss didn't knew if the enemy would listen but he was sure that on way or the other they would get his message.

"Brother and sisters. Treason and betrayal always has been the way of the sith and will be until the day the last sith dies. You all fight for power, for victory so the force shall free you. I respect that, it shows me that you are still walking upon our true path ...
Only those strong enough should shape the future of the sith, I am sure we can all agree on that.
I, Abyss the ascended, will stand as the leader, the champion, of the ascension against yours. Sith against sith like it always was. A fight until one bows or dies."

Abyss gave the man sending the message another signal, and he began transmitting a set of coordinates, a open area not to far from the outpost. His plan was neither driven by braveness nor by honor. It was what the code commanded him to do. Only the strong should rule.

Abyss stood at the place he had transmitted before, the banner rammed into the ground, the tattered flag hanging down in as even the wind was silent. He had given his man the command to wait for his orders and only fight if the enemy would attack them. They were close enough to meet his position in a under ten minutes, should his enemies decide to ignore his message. He took a deep breath, again repeating the code this time out loud.

[member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Clovis Torcularis"] [member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"And the Force Shall Set You Free."​

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As [member="Abyss"] was about to finish the code, another voice finished it for him. Darth Ferus had heard the call, and came himself without a banner and without an escort. An unlighted lightsaber rested in his palm with his thumb over the trigger. To most, this red cloaked man was a nobody. Many of the Sith had forgotten his name, as they should have. He was nothing. And it's what he had wanted.

Grinning from ear to ear he offered the most polite of bows to the boy, who's name was so unknown to the ears of the Sith Lord. Abyss the Ascended, unique title, but still so unknown. Yet worthy of so much respect. It wasn't often one issued a Kaggath of sorts, and lesser still he chose to fight by himself. At any point the boy could have called a true Kaggath and brought the One Sith army itself in, but he didn't.

"I have come to accept your challenge."

Five minutes earlier.​

The call came loud and clear to the ears of the Sith Lord. With a wave of his hand he broke the neck of the undead, letting it drop back to the ground lifeless and finally resting. No, he couldn't ignore this call. And he knew [member="Darth Venefica"] knew he couldn't. With a crack of a grin he turned to exit their forward camp, going right to the location specified without a word.

This was his sort of thing.

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss watched the unknown sith as he bowed in front of him. From the outside he could have been anyone, just another man who found his way to the darkness, but his aura revealed that he was far more: A dark lord, a presence powerful and frightening as that of his master. The young acolyte answered the gesture by bowing himself, his facial expression hidden behind his mask.

"Greetings, my traitorous brother."

The man straightened his body, now standing at his full height. His robe was tattered and dirty, like the banner that rested in the ground. He observed his opponent, trying to spot a weakness or a hint of one in his face. There was none.

"A master against anothers apprentice. What an interesting twist to the rule of two. You know my name, forgotten one, but I do not know yours."

As his last words left his mouth, he moved his hand to his belt, taking his lightsaber into the tight grip of his right hand.



[member="Darth Ferus"]b[member="Clovis Torcularis"] [member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

"My name is Darth Ferus, my stagnant brother." A snap hiss of a red blade coming to life filled the air. Red eyes from under the tattered cloak looked [member="Abyss"] up and down, as if inspecting cattle. It wasn't meant to be disrespectful, not after the honor the Ascended had shown, but a simple means of finding a sort of weak point. None, at least not yet. A bemused smile took over the features of the hooded man as he spoke once more, letting his voice almost sing.

"In another field of battle I would have held back in my strength to match yours as respect to your honor and fearlessness. But in this field I cannot. Both to honor you, and those I now fight for. I will also give you the option to surrender for your courage. You will be unharmed, and you and your men will leave. Know this however, should you betray that surrender I will bring back all of your men, you included, as nothing but mindless creatures to feast upon those you care about most."

And thus the ground rules for the challenged were set. The Force swelled noticeably to those who could feel it around the Dark Lord, infusing power into the red energy in his own hand. It was a simple trick, but one that had proven most valuable in some situations. One of which, being catching the foe off guard. But he made no move to attack, instead letting the blade rest comfortably in his grip as it glowed with the energy stored within. The challenged may set the rules, but it was the challenger who would initiate the duel.

[member="Darth Venefica"] [member="Clovis Torcularis"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"[member="Darth Ferus"] ..."

Abyss whispered, his head looking in the sky as he took on last deep breath. Above the golden hilt in his hand a crimson red blade of pure energy flickered to light. He knew that the dark lord very probably was a master of a myriad of force abilities, some so ancient and forgot that he never even heard of them. He on the other hand still acted on a ground level, only having a few tricks up his sleeve. Only if he would manage to play his cards right he had a chance to beat the far more powerful sith. Abyss knew that anyone had a weakness, even the most powerful being in the galaxy. For some it was greed, for others mercy, hope or pride. From the mans words he couldn't tell for sure, at least not yet, but his words seemed like those of one either bound by honor or blinded by arrogance. He slowly moved the blade through the air still not making an attempt to attack him.

"There will be no surrender."

Suddenly and without any prior warning Abyss sprinted towards the man, the blade cutting through the air. When he was close enough, he performed a swift swing with the blade in his hand, angled at the legs of the other sith. His movement didn't end there. While his lightsaber moved at his legs, the acolyte took another step forward, pulling his left hand back to gain momentum for a punch aimed at his head.

[member="Clovis Torcularis"] [member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Mythos]

"Brothers ans sisters. This is our last stand. We ascended so the crusade would stumble and fall, but now we stand against an even more powerful enemy. Traitors, man and woman hungering for power. We have neither the man nor the material to win this battle. We do not have to. We will go down in a glorious bath of blood and bones, taking anyone anyone of them with us. For passion, for power, for victory."

"Brother and sisters. Treason and betrayal always has been the way of the sith and will be until the day the last sith dies. You all fight for power, for victory so the force shall free you. I respect that, it shows me that you are still walking upon our true path ... Only those strong enough should shape the future of the sith, I am sure we can all agree on that. I, Abyss the ascended, will stand as the leader, the champion, of the ascension against yours. Sith against sith like it always was. A fight until one bows or dies."

Across the Galaxy... someone did hear it.

Mythos, former Lord of the Sith and currently a shadow of exile knew very little of the downfall of the One Sith. Yet his coms were always open and his ears were always perked. Lee looked at him, beneath his winter stained goggles while sat in the chair made of beat horns in Midvinter. He judged him, no words needed to be said he only judged him silently... Where was the old Lord Mythos? The Mythos that charged headlong into battle and glory for the One Sith without fear of death and destruction or pain? Here was a lonely soldier in Mindaball as one of the last glorious stands of the One Sith and Mythos was to sit by and do nothing?

"Don't look at me like that"
"Look at you like what?"

Mythos sighed, bit his lower lip and glared at the holocomunicator as if he was glaring at his old self clad in battle armor raising the Axe of Adas high in defiance against all odds... It was there under a force imbued and alchemized box that hid its dark energies that Mythos could no longer sense from the galaxy. He glared at it with intense feelings and emotions that contrasted who he claimed he was today, after all the training and the promise he himself made to Thurion in his mind he felt one thing above all else... disappointment. Disappointment when he could not stand against Ferus as an Acolyte, disappointment when he fell against Draco in Naboo, against Asajj in his training, against Ophidia time and time again... That familiar nostalgic feeling of impotence and anger corroded inside him and after being bottled up for years it exploded in a single moment.

Mythos rushed from his chair almost breaking the armrests and startling the two massive women at his flanks, behind his massive throne were two darkened crystalline cases and in front of it was the box which held the axe. Lee smiled in the background... this was the Mythos he served.

He opened it... inside was the Axe of Adas, the ancient weapon that had brought worlds to it's knees by his hand and he smashed the darkened crystal encasing revealing the scores of Black and Red flags of the one sith that each member of the Jar'Kai one sported in his or her back. He smashed the communications array and sent a single message back to Mindabaal. "Hold the stronghold... I am coming"

He turned back to lee with a look in his eyes that had been dormant until this very moment and to his surprise every single member of his warrior clan was there right beside his captain with weapons in hand and without an order. In their entire service, this moment defined them. "Contact the five hundred and fiftieth Atrisian fleet" It was as if the force still moved inside him because the holo communicator brought up the images of the commanders and general of the fleet.

"It cannot be..." The distorted voice said, his eyes glaring in disbelief as the image of Mythos popped up in every frigate in the fleet.

"The Emperor calls upon the sons of Atrisia..." Mythos said, his voice stern and commanding but deep inside fearful of the response they would give him. There was moment of silence, his voice and the axe clear signs that it was true and the image of the Jar'Kai by his side only enhancing the fact that this was no mirage. "And his warriors answer" Came the response in Atrisian dialect.

"General Saigo Kintan at your service your majesty."

 

[Darth Ferus]

It wasn't until [member="Abyss"] was practically atop Ferus that he moved. The respectful smile gave way to a maddening grin, and calm eyes shifted into that of a crazed hermit. With a simple swing downwards the red cloaked lord let his blade clash against that of the Ascended. On contact, the reason behind the infusion of the Force became violently and suddenly clear. A concussive blast of raw energy escaped outwards at the clash with no other purpose than to send the boy, or his sword, reeling. It was almost as if the Darth had released a powerful push of the Force from the blade in his hand, and in a way he did.

As the blast flew out the Sith jumped backwards away from the boy, letting the Force once more swell up in his blade. This was going to be good.

[member="Mythos"] [member="Darth Venefica"] [member="Clovis Torcularis"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss could feel blast of energy shaking his whole body as he was pushed away from the sith lord. The hilt in hand almost left it, as the kinetic force was conveyed into the blade, only the tips of his fingers still clinging to the weapon with all strength Abyss had. He stumbled back, almost back at the position he began his attack from, mainly focused on keeping his balance as the laws of physics still had its grip on his body. Only after he found his balance again, the acolyte had the time to see the damage the attack had left. The crimson red blade of his weapon had disappeared, and in its place smoke was coming from the tip of the hilt. It wasn't the first time his weapon had decided to stop working in a fight, but it was defenitly the worst. He gave the golden hilt a last look, before throwing the malfunctioning weapon in the dirt in front of him. His hand moved to his face, taking of the mask that did hide it until now. His yellow eyes looked on [member="Darth Ferus"] as the piece of wood meet the ground. There was no emotion his face, no anger, no hate, not even fear.

"Only the strong shall rule."

His hands moved slightly in the air, his fingers bending and clenching as they slowly rose above the ground. Abyss could feel the passion inside becoming a flame so hot and bright that it felt like his body was about to burst. Sweat was running down on his face as the acolyte summoned the power of the darkside to aid him. Suddenly he pulled his hands to his body, using the force to swirl up dust, sand and other small particles into the air, shrouding the area around the two man into fog. It was possible to see how the dust slowly began to dance towards the ground as a slightly wind began to blow above the battlefield.

With no other weapon than his fists Abyss once again started to run towards the sith lord, putting all his strength and momentum into a punch directed at his stomach.

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[member="Mythos"]

"Here Lead communication officer Kyle Thorin. Whoever you are, make sure to be here fast."

The officer was as surprised of the sudden notice that aid was on the way as any other member of the ascension. The contact to their leader had been lost since he had ventured out to meet the enemy in battle. When the words were heard by the remaining man, they began to shout and cheer. What began as a suicide mission could might as well turn into a glorious victory. The One sith were not dead yet.

[member="Clovis Torcularis"] [member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Mindabaal had been one of the stepping stones to Darth Ophidia's ascension to power. Still she held a firm hold upon the planet as a base of her private network within and without the reach of the One Sith. Her blackened eyelids opened, revealing the burning irises beneath as she emerged from her meditation. Fire, in her visions she had seen fire engulf the galaxy. The laughing serpent thundered in suspension between the starry map, its tongue of blue fire licked the throne of the Queen of Shadows.

She rose, dark fabrics draping around her form, rough textures scratching the skin to awaken the senses. She strode to gaze from the pinnacle of her lair. Her sight was not restricted to the area beneath, but stretched far and wide over the landscape of her pearl. Hands, one black, one grey, clasped one another behind her back as she breathed in the crisp air.

Mohtoni oi wisa.​

Her black hand clenched around a gold coin, the skull at its face imprinting on her scarred skin. Rapidly she turned, setting her eyes upon one of her retainers, a Rattataki like herself.

"I want forces on alert, armed and ready. Go!"

Her eyes turned to the other, Umbarran, yet eerily akin to Ophidia herself.

"Vetrix, my armour."

The fabrics that had draped Ophida's form now fell, making room for the padded wear of her armament. Her serpentine pets slithered excitedly over the floor, hissing in expectation as the Sith Lord got dressed for a fight she could feel approaching like electric tension in the Force.

[member="Abyss"] [member="Darth Venefica"] [member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Mythos"] [member="Clovis Torcularis"]

 

[Mythos]

"You hold the line... Success or death"

Somewhere in uncharted space....

The fleet had assembled, word spread quickly yet thought of betrayal and trickery was not lost on the One Sith Atrisian officers that still held rank within the Navy of his Majesty. Mythos was on his way in a frigate stationed not too far from Midvinter space. He sat in the command station for not too long before he set on his own freighter with his closest men on route ahead of his special forces to meet with the Atrisian General who commanded the fleet. Eyes of brown, almost black stared to the streams of hyperspace as they made the jump, his hands clasping the axe for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity of waiting and training without the use of the force against all odds. He mimicked his old master in her method of preparation, solemn and power in his strides... the cape of the black and red strung upon his back and the helmet of the golden Atrisian emperor upon his head once again. When they broke out of hyperspace they were immediately met with a flank of powerful frigates side by side that with only an order could blast them into nothing...yet no fire came. His ship flew directly into the dock of the Decimus, a Wyrrlock star destroyer

The ship flew inside the dock in what seemed to be an eerie and foreboding silence... inside however, in formation was the mighty first legion of Artisia flying the colors of the One Sith and the banner of the Axe and Atrisia. Mythos' ship landed and the ramp fell...

Marching side by side with his Jar'Kai royal guard and leading the front in a majestic golden armor was Lord Mythos as he used to be, regalia and all the axe held high above his head as proof that the King had returned. Knees hit titanium line by line with every step he took, his men who had fought beside him and under his command knowing that he did not command by order but by example, knowing that his orders did not come from their backs but so far from the front they had to squint through debris and blasterfire to even see or hear them were more than glad to have their Lord once again among them... somehow they knew he could not have died in Lujo... however Mindabaal would have to hold... it would be some time before Mythos and his legions could join to defend the planet.

"Death to the spheres, the Emperor lives and as his last surviving will I shall carry out his vengeance... Are you with me my children?" The roar in response was deafening, the One Sith's heart still pounded this day.

[member="Darth Ophidia"] [member="Darth Ferus"] @Abyss @Clovis Torcularis [member="Darth Venefica"]
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[Darth Ferus]

There was some admiration for a man who would charge in without a weapon. Never back down, never surrender. But this was, to Ferus, the ending. Even as the dust came up interfere with his vision, deep down he felt it was over. The advantage was clear. Was this cockiness? Disappointment? That would be figured out soon enough. He ran to meet [member="Abyss"] , his lightsaber held up for a quick thrust to end it.

Then it happened.

A darkness he knew so well, he groomed with his own hands, was there. The Force itself whispered in his ear about another Dark Lord who's eyes found their way to this planet, and he felt ecstatic. It had been so long since he last saw her, and he so looked forward to it. Oh, the dance they would dance, that so beautifully deadly dance. And then it happened. Arrogance.

Lost in his thoughts about once more fighting his apprentice, this acolyte's fist slammed into his gut, knocking the air clean out of him. There was a gasp as he bent over the fist, his smile gone and his eyes wide. Pain shot through his body, dulling his mind. His saber fell from his hand, the red blade receding back into the hilt. He had gotten overconfident on the end of this fight, and it cost him.

Oh how [member="Darth Ophidia"] would laugh.

[member="Darth Venefica"] [member="Mythos"] [member="Clovis Torcularis"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

For a second Abyss face showed honest surprise as his hand actually meet [member="Darth Ferus"] stomach, releasing the momentum into the mans body, without being cut into half or killed by a storm of dark side energy. Then his eyes widened, as he was just struck by an epiphany. The acolyte began to laugh, dark and inhuman, his theory had proven right once again. Everybody had a weakness, from a common soldier to the dark lords of the sith. And now he knew what the one of his opponent was. He had underestimated him, he allowed his focus to slip away from the fight giving the far weaker sith a chance to strike even though he still had lightsaber while the acolyte had none. Abyss couldn't say what it was that distracted the dark lord, but if he had to guess than it was because he felt the same aura Abyss felt himself. His master finally decided to bring death to their enemies.

"So arrogance it is."

Abyss extended his hand to the ground, grabbing the lightsaber of the dark lord with the force, pulling it into his hands.


[member="Darth Venefica"] [member="Mythos"] [member="Clovis Torcularis"] @Darrth Ophidia

 

[Darth Eversor]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsgXrC4r-Mo​

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...A gaze most likened to burning embers stared blankly from behind a visor as black as midnight. ​

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Stories of his wrath have been told time and time again, his deeds not without check and notice.​

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For some time now, his presence had been all but non-existent among the stars. ​

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The reign of terror and disembowelment was to be reborn.​

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Donning armor long forgotten and a cloak as sinister as most Sith would choose.​

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He who took after the once great tyrant Epicanthix, come to reap once more.​

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Abraxas had returned a soldier, but one of the Force.​

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The reign of terror and the destruction of the petty was imminent. ​

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Death to the One Sith...​

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Departing along with the rest of the armed forces accompanying [member="Darth Venefica"] and company, Darth Eversor held his silence and allowed his appearance to speak for itself. Distinguished from the others, the armor he wore was from another time. A nod to a finer, specialized corp of soldiers that used to serve the Empire's might. Darth Eversor respected this and decided to carry on such a legacy. A tribute to a time of prosperity during war times. ​

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...A fist of death...​

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Alas, his presence within the force would be a giveaway to those around him if they knew him before his transcendence. His body was anew, but the soul of putrid hate was ever present. Hunger was what the one formerly known as Abraxas felt most; however, to sate this bottomless desire, more than just these Sith were needed. ​

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The lot of them would become nourishment, their blood and flesh made of use aside from quarrels and inner strife. ​

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They were tumorous and must be removed through any means necessary.​

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Darth Eversor's new favorite method was a heavy repeating blaster to the dome.​

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...What a time it was to be alive... ​

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Ragged cloak draping to the ground, the darkly clad monarch of gore and judgement marched along, actively seeking targets.​

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That same burning gaze was unwavering, not even blinking once. ​

[member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Breath finally pushed it's way back into the Lords lungs, just as the dust around the pair seemed to settle. He coughed once, twice, thrice. Yes, this was simple pain. The pain of being mortal. Oh, how quick he was to forget such things. He was not a god, and [member="Abyss"] reminded him with a simple punch. The crazed grin fell, as did the wide eyes of a madman. What replaced them was a thin line of a grimace, and focused, angry eyes.

No more arrogance, no more playing. [member="Darth Ophidia"] and even [member="Mythos"] were on their way, and the battle would soon become ripe with opportunity. Opportunity that would be missed if the Lord was still in the middle of a duel. As Abyss retrieved the fallen saber, a second found it's way out of the tattered red cloak and into the hand of the tall man. It's blood red blade came to life in an instant, and he was off.

The distance was closed in an instant. Instead of pouring the force into his blade, he poured it into his body. There was no cocky comment, no crazy grin. Just focused red eyes to a deadly degree under a billowing cloak of blood. Both hands rested on the hilt of the saber as he swung, going to cleave the boy in two in that moment. He would not waste any more time when he no longer had any.