Faction KORVAN [Galactic Empire / Church of the Dark Side]

[Vireth]

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KORVAN
A 'Church of the Dark Side' story​

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Cademimu V, Outer Rim systems;
Located near the borders of The Diarchy;
One year after Operation Cinder (903 ABY);
St. Korvan's Cathedral, The Church of the Dark Side.

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"...The sacrifice of the Imperial Despot, Ignacious Korvan, had become the stuff of legend. His final act of defiance against the Galactic Alliance soon-to-be immortalized in the annals of history. Declared the "Restorer of the Empire" by the Emperor himself, Korvan's posthumous ascension to martyrdom sent shockwaves throughout galaxy, rallying imperial loyalists from every hidden corner of Imperial Space to his cause..."
-- Excerpts describing the deceased Imperial Despot, Ignacious Korvan, on the eve of his funeral held on Cademimu V.

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Cademimu laid in a state of ruination. Catastrophe had come for them in the form of Operation Cinder. What had once been a buzzing ecumenopolis and industrial centre for the Dark Empire had been turned into a crypt of despair. Piracy and criminality had brought upon the wrath of loyalists to destroy them all on the advent of the second campaign in the Core Worlds. The attackers had left behind a shell of it's former self when the work had been done. It had been a dark day. Stormtrooper helmets impaled by spear and bone were held up as monoliths upon the walkways or city streets as a reminder to the survivors of Cinder that betrayal would earn you fire. However, despite the destruction they had wrought upon the planet wide city, the Imperials had left alone one monument erected within the city limits that they had dared not to touch-- a place of worship, and reverence to the power of the Dark Side of the Force.

It is a holy place belonging to the Church of the Dark Side and the burial site for a martyr to the Imperial March upon the Stars.

Ignacious Korvan, the former Imperial Despot of the Dark Empire, sacrificed himself in a last, valiant stand against the Jedi rebellion during the first campaign to eradicate the Galactic Alliance during the Battle of Tython. This last heroic effort had earned the Dark-Imperials victory over their enemies and subsequently marked one of their earliest wins against the Jedi that would later lead to their capitulation birthing the rise and consecration of the Galactic Empire. Even today Korvan is still fresh in the minds and hearts of the Imperial forces he had gathered under his leadership. In death he remained an important figure to the cause, and the Church continued to stoke the flames of his story to inspire the Imperial advance upon the Galaxy.

A summit held on Cademimu (years before Cinder) would see Korvan posthumous ascension to martyrdom, and a declaration from the Emperor himself, who christened this fallen war hero as the 'Restorer of the Empire'. Even in death the despot continues to serve the cause. While the Galactic Emperor has retired into the darkness, and away from the public eye, his devout followers continue his work. A cathedral called St. Korvan, which had been built as a place of worship for the Church of the Dark Side, and as the burial grounds for the martyr, was now set to become the venue of a meeting between the cultists and sycophants who were steeped in mysticism, prophecy and the arcane.

The Kuati-Architect (known by church followers as Vireth) has called for a summit to be held at the St. Korvan's cathedral in the wake of the Galactic Alliance's fall. It was not a co-incidence that this place had been chosen. Indeed, the Galactic Empire has been restored, and yet, the rest of the galaxy beckons for it. Quaking in fear, and timidity, in the face of invasion, annexation and, perhaps, reclamation of territory, for it was the Prophet Sidious who had proclaimed a thousand-years of peace upon the birth of a civilization set to rule the entire galaxy. In spite of the Jedi, and all those who would stand with them-- after centuries of famine, disease and stagnation-- the Dark-Imperials have carried forth the paradigms of the one true Galactic Emperor to see the birth of a true civilization to own the stars themselves thereby fulfilling the prophecy of Darth Sidious.

Followers of the Church, as well as other villains and tyrants from across the Imperial space, were invited to attend the summit, for Vireth was set to host holy mass in worship to the Sith'ari inside St. Korvan. As dissidents from across Cademimu were gathered in prostration, alongside those who had desecrated their homes during the day of Cinder, the Architect would see those who had served Solipsis so diligently in the dark, and who revered him as a deity manifested into flesh, to begin exercising their influence on behalf of their Dark Master so that decadence, decay or subversion of the Church's truth would not set itself within the ranks of those who had defeated the Jedi rebellion, destroyed the Galactic Alliance, and now looked upon the rest of the galaxy with a desire to conquer them all as well...

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[Da'Razel]

CADEMIMU V - CHURCH OF KORVAN
Tag Direct: Vireth | Darth Vinaze | Meliant | Thorn | St. Thomas Barran | Sarcev Pestage
Equipment: The Furnance | Korrûg Kuûr​

The chime of a bell rings out.

A caravan of the faithful glides through the metropolis.

A mesh of scarlet robes, featureless masks, tubes and breathing apparati, all blending into one another

A wyrm of pyre, a crowd crawling through corridors and gangways.

A congregation consecrated in Korriban incense, silhouettes and dancing shapes behind veils of drifting smoke.

Figures wave charred banners mounted on great beams of coal-black wood, swinging smoldering censers, and breathe plumes of flame.

The clink and clatter of their gilded trinkets rattles in tune of their sing-sung vows.

At the tip of the procession strides a giant clad in white linen and golden vestments.

Garbed in exotic dark furs, crowned by two massive gilded horns.

The Saint of Fire calls his flock to sermon.

Between his gleaming greaves he bears a war-bell, a massive weapon with which to smite heathens and conscribe believers, every swing, swung rife with zealous strength and indomitable devotion.

Its eerie sound courses through the town like blood through a thumbing heart,

Through shattered courtyard ruins, into bombed-out trench gutters, over craters were homes once stood, across Imperial military encampments, onto factory grounds, and into the last sleep-hubs.

The Saint of Fire beckons them all to sermon.

As he leads his congregation onward, he cannot help but consider himself cradled in a cosy nostalgia.

It all started here. Back then he had been but a lone acolyte, praying aboard Church-vessels.

Sanctifying troopers who stood in lines before their drop-pods.

Half a decade spent smuggling covert supplies from sector to sector, sheltering in Imperial remnant facilities, allowed only to whisper the name of their God-Emperor in hushed breaths, communicating through obscure signs and codes, hiding like vermin in the canals, crawling in filth among their oppressors.

Now it was their shadow that fell sternly across this planet, this sector, the Core.

Now they declared their faith to the high heavens, spread the Imperial truth to every planet, every person.

There were colonies full of them, devout believers across a hundred worlds.

An endless supply of the righteous, souls devoted to the True Sith'ari.

He had believed.

He had always believed.

And for that belief he was blessed, made better, made more.

For his god was a kind and merciful deity.

And with the strength he had been given, he would protect what they had built, stand against foes known and unknown, within and without, to see his Church guide its patrons toward the prophesied future.

As the next gong resounded, the cathedral came into view:

Jagged architecture pierced the battered landscape.

A stark monument of sharp towers and unyielding edges.

She must have chosen this place for a reason.

He pressed his flock forwards. Their numbers swelled as the converted citizens of Cademimu V came crawling forth, eager to pray to their hearts' content on this most sacred of occasions.

Brothers and sisters from across the galaxy would find themselves gathered here today in holy matrimony of faith and purpose.

It was the Church's reply to the consequence-blind lawmakers and bloated bureaucrats who served as the polished façade of the Imperial war machine.

Here, the curtains were drawn back.

Here stood the raw power that bound the Galactic Empire together.

As he came to stand before the mighty chapel-fortress of the Church of Saint Korvan, the devil-horned Darksider coiled his golden rod, ending in the massive, gleaming war-bell, and rang it out one final time to usher in the ceremony.

He was eager to bear the words of the Pariah, to hear her call to arms, to smite all those who sought them harm. Heresy was everywhere; he saw it in enemies and allies alike.

As the resonance of his final chime faded, the Saint strode through the chapel doors and entered the holy grounds.

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Vireth | Da'Razel​

Saint Korvan...

Vinaze wondered if the man, in life, had ever realized such a legacy would be laid upon him. The Prophet had not really known the Despot personally. Then, as it was now, stooping to the level of the Imperials was something he hated to do. Imperial politics felt like letting his brain melt. All they were, ever had been, were tools. Korvan chief among them. Even in death, his legacy was puppet to the Church of the Dark Side, his ephemeral name given immortal titles and epithets, a rock which something greater could be built on. And now living beings took the title of Saint. That too was fitting, in Vinaze's mind, as a tool. The masses were now taught to believe that the practitioners of the Dark Side of the Force were like living gods. Vinaze himself was venerated as the Prophet who had told of the arrival of Darth Solipsis , his many forms captured in statues across the Empire.

The Prophet, clad in black and crimson as always, flowed through the procession somewhere behind the Saint of Fire, indistinguishable from the other zealots. His fine robes were replaced with the tattered garb of a poor penitent. Just another of the unwashed masses yearning to break their chains. He watched from within, seeing how the machine he had created was oiled, and what the Church intended to do next. Across the core worlds, their sermons were heard by billions, and by the union of church and state, it had come to rule the hearts and minds of the inner galaxy, the once-heart of democracy. But democracy had broken down, left the people in fear and distress. The priests of the Dark Side taught them not to fear, for they are each stronger than they think, and now, subsumed into something greater, they were free from the chains of democracy and the thumb of the Coruscantine Bourgeoisie. This appealed to a vast swath of the masses. Fools... each and everyone of them. Fools that would willingly pave the way for a single Empire to rule the known galaxy once again...

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Vireth Darth Vinaze Da'Razel

KORVAN
I

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CHURCH OF ST. KORVAN, CITY SURFACE,
CADEMIMU V, THE GHOST NEBULA (903 ABY)

[FLASH]
[SHOOOOM]
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-'
[THUD]
​

The Rift had opened within the walls of the Cademiman church, though it was small, and very much a fleetingly-shortlived breach; but just enough for the Khan to fall through, screaming from within until he saw the floors of realspace archecture, terrified from the fall until his barely-healed body hit the tiles with a loud thump. A blow so heavy that it briefly knocked out the one-eyed Woad, spending a good thirty seconds slumped on the floor before he finally stirred with a growled,'Ufff! Worth it-ow!', practically concussed in that condition as he tried to rise to his feet. Shaky-legged though it was, the other attendees that night would be gladdened they would not need to jump to the Bloodhound's aid, as that ascent to straight posture (or the closest resembling example his body could muster at the time) was fortunately surefooted.

Resolute enough to work through the pain, to let it help the Khan become even stronger.

'Wait.... This isn't Corusc-this isn't even FENRIS!!!!'

Giddily laughing at his own severe miscalculation, Barran could not help but feel like this was give-and-take for having the audacity of closing off the nearest Rift opening, but with other tears in Realspace still left to seal, the laughter dried like ashes on his larynx. But his bleary-eyed realisation would soon be cut short, as it was not just the recognition of the scents in the air, but also the acknowledgement of faces the Khan knew well, and all of whom were capable of pulling him from out from the depths of his own ferality. It was then that the laughter returned, warm and approachable this time, even lightly regarding the others as he drawled,'Good evening, fellow scholars... What brings you here? Heh! What brings me here?', only to return to chuckles that more closely resembled delirium than anything else by then.

'In other news, Coruscant's lower levels are - in a spot of trouble down th-'

Collapsing momentarily again, but due to the fact the Khan was already upright by then, he only stumbled off to one side, landing after successfully catching the edge of the nearest pew, only to shake his head at the continued adversity he was being forced to endure. Whether by the Avatars, his own destiny, or by the Force, there was no way to know which divine hand was shoving the Bloodhound along this path, all he could do was keep going as he soaked up the punishment, and sit his backside down before he did himself another mischief. It was bad enough that the church would need to clean the Khan's blood from the tile-slabs and pew-rest alike, the least he could do in this situation is cast such displays to one side, and respect the setting into which he had plummeted just moments before.

'What a day.'

 

[Vireth]

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Cademimu V, Outer Rim systems;
Located near the borders of The Diarchy;
One year after Operation Cinder (903 ABY);
St. Korvan's Cathedral, The Church of the Dark Side.
Tags: Da'Razel | Darth Vinaze | Meliant | Thorn | St. Thomas Barran | Sarcev Pestage |

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They had exhumed the body up from this scorned Cademimu-Earth and were subsequently set to anoint him anew in these dark times so that they could remind the people of his valiance, and sacrifice. Legends can be born with such stories, and Ignacious has become one of them. It was the turning of the tide-- a new galaxy set to be born out of the ashes of destruction to pave the way towards creation. This was our time too. Civilization-- built up by decadence and decay, upon the altars of corruption and subservience to the Jedi-- had been toppled and now consequentially served as the foundations of a resplendent, consecrated Galactic Empire. Others would share their fate in time as well if Vireth had her way. It was Vinaze who had prophesized the coming Darth Solipsis, and Ayra who had coined through destruction, they bred creation; and after the bust had been raised (in the centre of St. Korvan) they had all been gathered to look upon the work of the new Sith as they joined their master while he begun his thousand-year rule across the cosmos.

A Pariah has gathered the flock today inside this hallowed hall, and their gaze tells of a certain dystopian despair held somewhere in the iris to the window of a once Human soul.

Korvan's bust has been built upon the stone; and etched into the edifice of the rock were the esoteric, enigmatic runic symbols of the ur-Kittât to tell his story to the masses. Laid at his feet were the emblems of the New Imperial Order and of the Final Dawn for their sacrifices were ought to be not be forgotten according to the Architect. Beside their silk were the offerings of the Church. Lightsabers plucked from the hands of the fallen New Jedi Order that were piled before it as Ignacious' husk stared down upon the masses who knelt in prostration to them during the holy mass. His empty, dark stare (where the eyes had once been) were starring down upon the gathering, and his skeleton held arms open wide as if to embrace them in a hug. Laced in Cademimu fabrics it wore an Imperial officers uniform, and a white cape shrilled from the base of the neck down to the naval where the back had once been. It almost seemed to be smiling widely with it's skeletal teeth as the masses prayed before the husk of Ignacious Korvan.

Even in death the Despot is here with us on this holy day.

Lies and falsehoods turnt to legend stoked by the power of the Church, and by the Dark Side of the Force.

Situated high above the cranium shined the emblem of the Galactic Empire which Korvan had restored. Reverence was not only paid in respect to the martyr on display in holy mass, however. There is someone more important to be adored, after all. Priests and gospel sent from the dark muttered their teachings to Vireth's flock about the Emperor who had christened Korvan posthumously. They taught them that the Dark Lord of the Sith has saved them all from a future owned by the Jedi. That he was coming soon to free them as well as he had done so with the Coruscanti, the Chandrilian, and the Alderaanian. God was with them. Forever. The Force itself were with them too for they now owned it. Through power they had victory, and by it they would be set free as well. It was now only a matter of time until the Empire would save them from the Jedi too because Cademimu V would be brought back into the fold as well. Prophecy and tales of the future told or were often brought to fruition by the Church of the Dark Side as it so often does.

There is an undeniable, indomitable Imperial March set to take the Stars themselves, and Korvan's ilk were not going to be forgotten. Time is enough.

"Join me," Vireth tells Da'Razel as he finishes his stride through the ruined nearby city to join her in St. Korvan. Interlocking her arm with his, Vireth takes the procession through the holy mass she has gathered towards the bust in the center. Men and women either side of the most devout (from a vast array of different Humanoid species) were held down in prostration as they walked. There must be over a thousand of them in here today. Some were there by choice, and others were made to by force amid the Korriban incense and smoke crackled shock sticks to turn unbelievers into servants. Subservience to the cause held no choice for the People now.

"I need you," Vireth confesses quietly to the giant beside her as she walks with in tow with them towards Korvan. She offered no other platitudes or explanation. Small words conveyed enough meaning. As they pass St. Thomas, Vireth stops before the Khan and bows her upper body all the way down to the Warlord for he was to be revered as well. There, she catches a glimpse of Vinaze in the crowd, and feels the gaze of the Prophet watching her. Legends and Gods walk among men now. As she rises back to her full height, and turns to the crowd, Vireth summons her courage to continue the service. She will never fail the Sith. Not when one of them seemed to be always watching her now.

"Rise."

With one syllable ushered into the din, the Church rises up to their feet to listen. There was a time to prostrate yourself and show subservience to the Emperor and his martyr at the beginning of mass. But it is his chosen ones who would help them rise and take all that should be theirs. Subtle ques and tells devised by the Architect as she assisted her dark master as he took over the galaxy. Around Vireth and Da'Razel, as they stood at the base of Korvan's bust, the procession forms a circle around them before the weak and culled. It was time to take them into the paradigms set by the Galactic Emperor.

"The Jedi rebellion has been defeated and purged from the Core systems," Vireth spoke aloud into the Cademimu mass as they fell into a deep, eerie silence to listen to the Pariah. "The tenants of the New Order have been restored, and it's restorer joins us from death at the beginning of a new civilization. Peace, order and law have been returned to the vast foreign lands laying beyond the reach of the Cademimu system. We will take you with us into this new dimension. In time Korvan's people will serve the cause once again. Prepare for our coming, and lest you forget what happens to those who turn TRAITOR!"

Vireth takes a step away from Da'Razel while her scream recalls the transgressions behind Operation Cinder. She then begins to walk around the outer boundaries made by his encircled procession to continue delivering mass from up top on the pulpit. "We have gathered here today to pay reverence and respect to the Emperor, to the Galactic Empire, and also to St. Korvan. To pay homage and respect to those who built us up piece-by-piece in the dark. The Jedi told the Cademimu that they would protect you. They said the same to the Coruscanti. To the Alderaanian. Their peace is a lie. Cast your doubts and aspersions back one year to remember why. Only through us will civilization be made and saved from their hubris. From their lies. The Imperial are forever your saviours!"

As she talks and walks Vireth stops in front of Korvan's bust to climb on top of it. Positioning herself between the legs of the taller skeleton (starring from up above) Vireth parts her arms to join the martyr as he embraces the people while she delivers holy mass to them. "The rebellion, however, continues to persist out there in the Outer Rim systems. Jedi sects have joined Nabooian aristocrats as they revive a New Republic in the southern systems. Traitors have banded together on New Aldera to draw us into a civil war. Dark Jedi posing as the Gods, where they instil fake dogma, religion and belief about the dark side churn imperialism with their bastardized views under a regime they call a Sith Empire. Even the great stronghold of Bastion has been occupied by liars and false pretenders..."

Vireth falls silent again. It is a tactic to let the words settle in. The Galactic Alliance is no-more. Eradicated, and erased, by their Imperial March. But it is not the end. Out there, in the Mid Rim and Outer Rim Territories, the enemy persists. Democracy intermixed with bastards and false religion. One rebellion may have been ended. But others remain out there in the stars, and Vireth would have them dealt with. After all, Titus Mori drew up with the galaxy should look like, and it has no place with anyone else other than them.

"In order for us to complete the Emperor's vision we must congregate together as one unified voice," Vireth explained to the crowd. "One movement has seen to the end of the Jedi rebellion in the Core. To the eradication of the so-called Galactic Alliance. Now, a new one must take a new shape set to be led by this Church and our congregation. We have been the messengers, and upon our altars, we have delivered the paradigms which christened and consecrated our Galactic Empire. So we shall continue this work to do the same to our enemies who have evaded swift Imperial justice!"

The die had been cast. Vireth would have the devout followers and servants of the Galactic Empire do the same to the other superpowers of the galaxy as they had done to the Galactic Alliance during the Great Core Wars. She did not differentiate or cast aspersions of importance to their mutual enemies. Diarchs, the old Sith, Jedi, Republic, the Imperial remnants... All of them shared the same fate to her. But as Vireth spoke she felt a twinge of doubt. Not in her words, or the absolution they carried for their enemies, but from within. After all it was only Human for people to have their own ideas which were antithetical to hers and the Emperor's.

Myth and legends could only get you so far. Politics were now set to take center root. The Fenris summit had taught her much. If the Church were to continue and be a force to be reckoned with then they would need a figurehead to rival those from COMFEAR or the other organisations which inhabited the Galactic Empire. Before the same bureaucracy they had defeated at Atrisia would rise up again as a new, more insidious form that was capable of dismantling all that they had accomplished ever since Ignacious Korvan had won the day at Tython during the last great campaign.

"The Cademimu paid an iron price one year ago. Now, you will pay a penance during this mass. For a millennia our people persisted in the Unknown Regions, and into the layers of Wild Space, to keep the New Order alive. So, one thousand days will be paid for a thousand years of exile out in the void here in St. Korvan. By the last day of this holy mass all that is broken shall be fixed again. For the one true Emperor, and saviour of the galaxy. The people shall amass AN EMPIRE!!!!"

As Vireth finished delivering her mass to the flock, to St. Thomas, to Vinaze, and to Da'Razel's procession, the stewards and priests of the Church commenced with their rounds as the Thousand Day Mass begun in earnest in penance for a millennia of exile. Incense pyres were stoked with fresh shards taken from the roots of the Amanita Lumikurnizi, and the hum of electricity cackled in the dark, eerie air as the vast array of people congregated as the Cademimu people were driven into participation to continue their payment back to the Dark-Imperials as they begun their reign over the galaxy.

"My friend," Vireth said to Da'Razel after she was helped down from Korvan's bust. Voice hoarse from her speech, Vireth looked up tiredly to the giant and made a request. "Bring me the Khan... and The Prophet... I would like to talk to them personally."

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[Da'Razel]

CADEMIMU V - CHURCH OF KORVAN
Tag Direct: Vireth h | Darth Vinaze | Meliant | Thorn | St. Thomas Barran | Sarcev Pestage
Equipment: The Furnance | Korrûg Kuûr​

The dying echo of the final chime is usurped by a vaulted ode that heralds the procession to the gathered masses.

There she was.

Those eyes.

After all that carnage, blaster bolts, Jedi blades, Sith sabers, nothing had ever pierced his armor the way that gaze did.

She strides at his side and takes hold of him, offering a warmth no flame could cast.

And he permits it.

It only confirmed what he had felt earlier, with the very first step of his gleaming greaves into these hallowed halls.

In every tapestry of fate there are wefts, inflection points made of knots and stitches, moments that must exist regardless of what comes before or after, lest the fabric unravel entirely.

With the same certainty that the sun would rise tomorrow, the Saint of Fire knew that this was one such moment.

"I need you,"

The words carved themselves into him, etched like ridges into his cuirass.

The gore-rouge glow of his visor reflected against porcelain-pale skin as his faceless helm inclined toward the Pariah.

"And I will stand with you"

His voice emerged only as a static-laced whisper, the words released on a single exhaled breath.

"Show me a path"

Hooded forms shuffled past them, while incense spirits trailed at their feet and flickering candlelight pounded like the very heartbeat of this holy place.

Reality seeped back in like cooling tar, heavy and inevitable, clarity washing over him.

Together they stepped onto the podium beneath the glorious remains of a Saint.

A Saint who trailed a path through which all that had unfolded treaded.

A Saint whose own fate had seared craters and ruin into Cademimu V itself.

A skull screaming unheard anguish, whilst crying tearless drops of joy.

An anchor point in Imperial history, upon which another such turning now simmered, moments from boiling over.

He could not tear himself from a single word she proclaimed, desperate to cling to the implications she laid bare.

A crusade.

A holy war, unbound from Imperial doctrine, unshackled from law and bureaucracy.

Stars would need to be ignited in roaring, radiant fire to show the galaxy the path into the arms of their God-Emperor.

The Core was theirs.

The Force was theirs.

Even fate itself was theirs.

It was upon them to wield this god-given dominion and bind the galaxy beneath His banner.

With every word she spoke, the candlelight swelled, compelled by her vigor and the Saints will. It flickered and roared before crescendoing into pillars of draconic fire, as Vireth of Kurat proclaimed a thousand days of worship.

And like the zealots gathered before them, Da'Razel found himself carried away by the vision she unfurled:

The sieges, the glory, the hope they would ignite.

A Galactic conversion.

Yet as swiftly as the first moment they had shared came to pass, this too ended as abruptly.

And he was given charge.

The giant moved into the crowd.

The stately figure of the Khan was easy to find, man but no mortal, a deathless martyr, and when the two Saints stood before one another, Saint Peterius sank to one knee before the lord who had once saved his life on Desevro.

"My Khan," he said, reverent and resolute, "the Pariah seeks you out. Please, join us."

They hadn't spoken since the first Sith conclave, an exchange long overdue. An opportunity he would not waste again.

But there remained one more presence.

Until Vireth had beckoned him to seek the Living Shadow, Da'Razel had not laid eyes upon him.

Not because he doubted his presence, never that.

Prophet Vinaze was the unification of shadows themselves.

Not merely within this Church or upon this world, but within every shadow, everywhere, all at once.

The deadliest of arachnids, seated within a self-spun web stretching across the galaxy, sensitive enough to feel the faintest tremor along any strand.

And so, though the Saint could not reach out through the Force as even the lowliest Padawan might, he could still call into it.

All he needed to do was pray.

Thoughts, memories, and unspoken words flowed into the plea.

A prayer spoken to no one, yet heard.

"My Lord. My Prophet. We implore your guidance, please come find us"

He looked back to find contact with those ghastly orbs, proclaim a task completed.

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Vireth Da'Razel

KORVAN
II

​

CHURCH OF ST. KORVAN, CITY SURFACE,
CADEMIMU V, THE GHOST NEBULA (903 ABY)

'My Khan.'
'Hm? Oh-'
'The Pariah seeks you out. Please, join us.'
​

The intention to accept was there, though this process would be much easier said than done this time, but the Khan chose not to fuss about it, thus nodded his assent and waited for the go-between to turn around before beginning the struggle toward a standing posture. Even hiding grunts of exertion, both from Da'Razel and the congregation members sitting along the pew from him at the time, the Bloodhound would do well to hide his pain, but not the blood he left behind, to which all concerns would be waved off as his answer to questions left unasked. After all, grander obligations were afoot, and with his own destiny at the wheel, Barran had no choice but to march forward, stepping into the unknown for as long as fate had the Khan in it's thrall.

Keep it together, Barran.
You can drop out when you're done here.
​

'Alright.... Where's the priestess?'

Muttering to himself, the Khan would then begin limping down the aisle, leaning on every vacant armrest he found on approach toward the front, it was then that the one-eyed Woad caught sight of Vireth and Da'Razel in the periphery that remained. From there, Barran would bow his head slightly on approach, using this respectful demeanour to track exactly where and how his feet were landing as his boots threatened to scrape on marble, and only when he was close enough to whisper did he drawl,'Honoured to make your acquaintances, my esteemed peers. Please excuse my air of tunnel-focus ignorance on previous occasions.... Alas, necessity seems to rule me now.', as politely as his gruff accent could manage.

'How may I be of service this evening?'

As his posture straightened, the Khan's lower-back, his hip and all the stitches across his scapula strained to hold their form, but instead of reaching for the nearest pew, he chose instead to relax his stance and bear it by briefly clenching his jaw. For all that the Bloodhound had suffered to make it to Realspace again, and for all the pain and blood-loss, the strength, the power was returning, and far more quickly than St. Thomas had anticipated. Still slow by the eye's estimation, but enough to turn a days-long affair into something more akin to lower-dozens of hours instead, and all a marked improvement on the mind-numblingly long spells in a Bacta tank, spending months out of commission before he could rehabilitate.

But all his experiences had strengthened the Bloodhound since, and with a slew of baptisms under fire since his resurrection it would have surprised many to learn that the Khan still believed it not to be enough by the turn of the Tenth Century ABY, almost as if the conqueror himself always knew there were fish much bigger in the Galaxy. Almost as if such a nagging realisation was fuel for the fire in Barran's mind, inspiration in abundance for a heart that yearned for more strength, more power, and better odds of survival in the wars of the next century; and with the Church of the Dark Side there to aid their anointed saint of rogues and outlaws, and with increasing interest and investment in the Khan's future, such encounters with the Pariah's ilk were always inevitable.

Fortunate then for the Bloodhound that his peers were reasonable, as his fellow venerated souls were well aware of the rising tensions in the Galaxy at the time - and they too could feel that aching pang, that gut-deep instinct to survive.

 

[Vireth]

---

---

Cademimu V, Outer Rim systems;
Located near the borders of The Diarchy;
One year after Operation Cinder (903 ABY);
St. Korvan's Cathedral, The Church of the Dark Side.
Tags: Da'Razel | St. Thomas Barran | Darth Vinaze

---

'How may I be of service this evening?'

"I have questions that I would like to know the answers too, Saint Barran," Vireth replied coldly as Da'Razel returned to the pulpit with the Khan and the Prophet. "Something that has bothered me since the Fenris summit."

As the St. Perterius' pariah began a conversation about politics within the Galactic Empire a mass unseen in a millennia had also begun in earnest. A soft hum stirred around them as the Church brought the Cademimu back into the fold. Catastrophe had exorcised the traitors through death with the weak were set to be found and culled by the strong, so that when the shadow of the Empire fell upon the great city planet, and took the hub of the Dark Empire, they would be ready to serve their dark master.

"Why did we destroy the Galactic Alliance?"

It was a loaded question rife with implication and consequence with a rhetorical tone designed to make the Khan, the Prophet and the War Saint in Vireth's company think. They would undoubtedly have their own answers with each possessing a unique perspective. Perhaps for St. Barran it was about revenge, or for Vinaze it was destiny manifest through prophecy. She did not doubt that her beloved Da had served diligently in the Great Core Wars because that had been what was required of him.

But this was political, and with all questions, there came a point to be delivered.

"Why was the tenants of the New Order first conscribed by the Prophet Sidious in the first place?"

In spite of the Four-Hundred Year Darkness, with almost a century of civil wars and split remnants of the first Galactic Empire, the Imperials had endured, survived and subsequently founded the second coming of their great Empire after they had conquered the Galactic Alliance itself. But the origins of their ideology, first described by a man who had first claimed the mantle of the Galactic Emperor, stretched back in time to when the entire galaxy had been ruled by a Galactic Republic that had been betrayed by the Jedi leading to reforms that forever changed the known cosmos.

"The New Jedi sect were defeated, with most of their followers exterminated, ever since we usurped the alliance dogs on Commenor," Vireth explained as she began to construct her point. "But with our achievement we have also inherited problems which mired our predecessors. What I speak of are the bureaucrats, politicians and sycophants who survived the old order to join us. I have foreseen bureaucracy getting in the way of my masters work. People who would have us slow down, or perhaps even stop us from building up the new galaxy, that was shown to us by the great cartographer, Titus Motti."

Vireth turned her unnatural golden eyes upwards. Above the holy mass happening around them a holographic representation of the galaxy, as envisioned by Motti, floated from above spelling a dark future that the likes of the Architect were consigned to create.

"I fear that our peers have been, perhaps, dissuaded from the path that was set for us before the Emperor's..." Vireth paused to pick her next words carefully. "...Retirement. That as a consequence of the Atrisia, and the Emperor's weapon, they would have us move in line with a new strategy that does not align to the cartography as shown by this map. So, it is upon the Church to ensure that our masters work continues and the path that he set is not deterred by others in our midst..."

---

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Vireth Da'Razel

KORVAN
III

​

CHURCH OF ST. KORVAN, CITY SURFACE,
CADEMIMU V, THE GHOST NEBULA (903 ABY)

'I hear you.... After all, our fellow saints have butted heads against walls on the issue.'
​

'However, there is one thing the Ruling Council has in common with the Church, though its not so bad.', the Khan prefaced as well as he could, sensing the need in the midst of the noticed requirement for elaboration, as there was much and more to explain on the subject at the time, and the Bloodhound valued his hosts enough to enlighten them as best as he could. Bowing his head slightly then, Barran would offer calm sincerity as he began with,'You all might need frontline insights, though not in soldiering demand for aid in battle, but instead.... Spoken, accounted perspective from troopers stationed at our frontiers - for there is much for my ilk to tell, much an' more.', trailing off so he could pull the ruby from his otherwise-empty right eyesocket.

'What cannot be seen on spiritual, or governing grounds, is often forced upon the eyes of those who walk on bloodied terrain.... They can see what must rise an' fall, and most of all - they can see who must fall, in chiefmost priority.'

Lifting the Pariah's hand with his own, the ruby was placed within her palm, and all with the reverent kindness that was due to ruby and Vireth alike, though the Bloodhound was on the verge of making his point. Thus hands were then clasped behind his back, though not before pulling down his eyepatch, presenting more of that reverent respect as he continued,'This little wonder - it shows me things. It shows me what I must see, for the most part, thus it serves as an eye, of sorts. It shows me threats, near an' far alike.... Many of whom, as you'll know, are becoming increasingly dangerous - one little gemstone does that for me.', finally getting to the heart of the matter.

'If we must ascend our current state of being, we must first look to all the pretenders who feign Imperial identity, an' to all who dare claim Sith power beyond our sphere of influence - charlatans all, an' so, all must perish if we are to imagine total dominance again.'

​

Looking up then to the Holographic mural, to which the Pariah gazed before the Khan's reply, St. Thomas took a moment to marvel on it's sheer ambition; gazing upon the depiction of a Galaxy dominated solely by the Galactic Empire, and only then recognising Motti's original depiction in it's three-dimensional, superimposed form, the Bloodhound could not help but admire the brazen, boastful threat it posed to the rest of the Galaxy. Prompting one last preface, but unlike the first, St. Thomas seemed to let it slip absentmindedly as he drawled,'They all expect us to overstep now, an' to such an extreme that some would rather harry us at our borders - taking risks of their own.... Huh....', drawing back from outward thinking to it's introspective counterpart for a moment.

But against his own reverting avoidance of habit, the one-eyed Woad would return his gaze to his hosts, realizing then what the realm could do to slip it's bureaucratic tethers.

'Let us entice our foes to overstep instead, let them wander into the Core - let them find nought but peril awaiting them.... For I now wish to find empty cities, uninhabited worlds in the wake of our victories - as then, you could be working the Ruling Council to the bone.'

 

[Da'Razel]

CADEMIMU V - CHURCH OF KORVAN
Tag Direct: Vireth | Meliant | Thorn | St. Thomas Barran | Sarcev Pestage
Equipment: The Furnance | Korrûg Kuûr​

"Why did we destroy the Galactic Alliance?"

The question startled the Saint.

Here among his flock at the heart of sermon, amidst ascension.

The smell of trailing Korriban incense hues adrift.

Submerged in indomitable chants, reverberating the symphonies of their believers.

Black robes bobbing back and forth as they proclaimed judgment on heretics and repentance for their sins.

This very church, from its foundation to the pure gold silhouette of its iconic legend, it was this, their freedom to adore their lord, their fulfillment of destiny decades, centuries in the making.

It was their holy fate to murder the galaxy until it accepted His will and His stewardship.

This is what he was born for. Ordained purpose, it was a destiny divine.

But she knew this. It was never meant to be a cause for distraught.

Albeit it pained him to remain steeped in uncertainty as to her own reasons.

But when she declared her grievance with the Fenris event, the resplendent colossus burned with equal contempt. This disfigured gearbox they called governance, fat swines, gluttons of power and privilege, fulfilled only so long as their reign endured.

And while he was ever grateful to remain a sole supplicant at the service of deities, those over which they ruled did no always deserve their beneficence

He felt the burning flare swell inside his chest, his spirit roared in molten encore at the endeavor to fell these vermin.

He would see to it that the God-Emperor's will would be delivered!

For His will is the only will. His fate, the galaxy's fate.

Both Saints in attendance agreed, although each would find their path differently.

Da'Razel's had been forged through faith and zealous fervor, the other Saint's was shaped by occult foresight, unyielding, uncompromising, calling not only for the annihilation of foes within, but those without as well.

The Khan's brazen chivalry shamed the other Saint.

Peterius's visor flared with furious vehemence as he spoke:

"My Saint. My Lady.

We fight a war on many fronts, on frontier and Core Worlds alike, within our own temple walls, within the very hearts and souls of man.

I will make pilgrimage to the Imperial Temple and pray before our God-Emperor's gates, kindle the faith among His people, and exact penance upon the blasphemous.

And I will ready a force, a hammer of faith, a blade of justice, one with which we slay the evil that stalks our borders. One with which we will crucify the heathen among us. One with which to fulfill grand fate."

His glare settled upon the gilded helm of Saint Korvan, an icon who had waged wars and won them, upon whose victories all that they now held as truth had been raised. A tower of uncut stone, laid block upon block, each placed with deliberate care, each held in balance, as its foundation was no more than a single pebble.

This was the balance they were sworn to maintain.

There was war to be waged.