Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Let's Make Some Cool Stuff

Amarant took a long drag from his cigarette as he stood over the molten hot iron as it melted into the shape of his next sword. While he truly cherished Nex, it was time to create a better weapon, an imposing broadsword that would intimidate his enemies. It was large, larger than any sword he had seen, and it also had two cutouts on the sword. One in the middle, a circle, that could be used to decapitate his enemies if he circled it around them. The semi-circle was created in a similar manner, but it was to be able to push up to people and behead them if he so chose. It would be a work of art once it was finished.

He was in the beginning stages of creating the massive weapon, it had not taken him long to collect the basics, iron was easy to come by and melting it all down had been no problem since he had access to the blacksmith on Endelaan. To create such a large sword, though, required a certain tact. It had to be perfectly balanced and created the right outline had been tedious and he simply could not have done it himself without the aid of the blacksmith. He was great at forging weapons, even still, he needed a little help along the way. He was by no means a master of it yet.

Tossing the butt of the cigarette down, he pulled out another, and leaning in he lit it with the aid of the molten that was still settling. Soon it was time to remove the sword, grabbing it by the handle which had three specific notches depending on how he was to fight, he lifted the heavy broadsword up with the aid of the force which made it seem almost weightless. Setting it down he grabbed the hammer to shape the sword and he went to work.

The sound of the hammer smashing against the sword as he fit it into the perfect shape could be heard throughout the silent world of Endelaan. Sweat poured from his brow and covered his arms as he constantly swung at it, no room for error, he could not stop no matter how tired he became. Fatigue was an excuse in the face of perfection, if he was to create the weapon, it had to be done right the first time and this was only the first step.

Hours later he gazed upon the weapon, it was still a little rough, but it was to be expected. The final polish of the sword would look much nicer after he touched it up, but the best was yet to come, he still had to enhance the weapon with Sith Alchemy. That was for later, for now though, he set the sword aside. He had to be at maximum alertness to imbue the sword with darkside energy.
 
Krest stood to the side, almost out of site. His presence was not hidden, but the Zabrak figured it didn't matter. @[member="Amarant deWinter"] was so focused on his blade Krest couldn't help but think the man didn't notice him. That wasn't the point though. The blade was impressive, something Krest couldn't help but admire. it wasn't until Armarant set the blade down that he spoke.

"A beautiful blade. Large and imposing. Won't that be quite heavy to use in battle?" Part of the Zabrak figured the force would be used to assist with it, but you never know. He wanted to ask, if only to learn more about the man. Krest stepped out from the shadows, his red arms crossed over his chest. He wore a sleeveless variant of the Templar Armor, if only to assist in forging. He had every intention of forging another blade, but that would have to wait.

He kept his blue gaze on Armarant, warily watching him. It was possible he surprised the man. Hopefully if that was the case Armarant wont take offense.
 
Amarant was putting on the finishing touches on his blade, polishing it to get the exact right look, when he heard a voice. Taking a drag from his cigarette he lifted the blade with ease after the man asked if it would be too heavy. Though he did not look it, he was very strong, years of constant fighting, training, and battling made him that way. He brandished the sword with the cigarette in his mouth and he pointed it at the Zabrak with a smirk on his face.

"The weapons weight means little to me." He twirled the blade and then returned it to the table to finish the polishing. "The force helps me use it as I see fit. But its size and weight are not what is special about it. When I am done with it the abilities it will possess are what will frighten my enemies." He was nowhere near completion, as of now it was just a large blade, but when he was done it would be a legendary blade whose name would ring throughout the galaxy.

"What brings you here?" He said with curious intent, not meant to be insulting, more of a conversation starter.

@[member="Krest"]
 
Krest nodded slowly at his answer, a grin forming on his face. @[member="Amarant deWinter"] was his kind of person, using the Force to help him wield his enormous blade, one handed even. He admired the blade from a distance, nodding along in appreciation. "A legendary blade eh? What's it going to do?"

The Zabrak blinked at his question though, then motioned to the room. "I'm actually here to forge my own blade. Something more attuned to a special friend of mine." His sentence drifted off as he thought. In truth he had no idea what he was going to make. Another sword? An axe maybe? How about a spear? He zoned out into the thoughts of his own weapons, his gaze shifted to the fire.
 
"Lots," He said casually as he moved it over to the table he had created specifically for the Sith Alchemy portion of the forging. "It will absorb and contain dark side energy for me to use at my leisure. A feat I have already once accomplished in another blade." He motioned his head in the corner of the room where his other Sith Sword, Nex, lay in its sheath. A much smaller sword that could hold darkside energy that he put into it. His new sword, though, would be able to absorb the force. "I am just building upon something that I know already works."

Reaching for the small ceremonial blade that had been given to him by the Sorceress, Aeval, he quickly ran it across the palm of his hand and cut it open and a small bit of blood began to form at the cut. "Use anything you can get your hands on," He said as he squeezed the palm of his hand and let the blood drip onto the sword. A blood sacrifice was required for something like this, blood from a force user, preferably that of the one who would be wielding it. "If you need any help, let me know, but allow me to complete the ritual first."

Placing his hands out over the top of the blade, he turned one last time to face the Zabrak, "Names Amarant by the way."

@[member="Krest"]
 
Krest nodded his head slowly at the discussion of @[member="Amarant deWinter"]'s blade. The concept was amazing, and it was surely going to be something the Zabrak did at a later date. For now he watched the man preform his ritual in silence, not wanting to disrupt. But he spoke at the mention of Amarant's name, only to be polite.

"Krest."
 
Amarant nodded his head at the mention of his name before turning his attention back to the sword. He began to speak in the ancient Sith language, a very difficult language to master, but he had been speaking it for years now. He wondered if Krest would be impressed, this was his first venture into the Galaxy since he had been nineteen, he was not used to meeting other people and showing off his talents. He remembered being a show off earlier in his life but he had no one to show off to these days. Everyone he had been close to, besides Nessa, were all dead now.

He had been the cause of their deaths.

The darkside energy began to flow through his fingertips, the addicting energy left his hands, and he immediately thirsted for more. Since he had gotten his first taste of the darkside, he was now unable to get enough, and he quest for as much power as possible was not even close to being over. Who knew how long it had been, five minutes, an hour? He could not tell, when he began to ritual, time seemed to stop and the only thing on his mind was interweaving the spell into the blade. He focused on the hilt, the center of its power, where it would store the darkside energy and he also focused on the iron. The blood was there to meld with the iron and make it one, the spell would make it so that blood could heal the damages, not at an accelerated rate but enough to count.

Finally, he was done, and he opened his eyes again and took a step back. Letting out a sigh of relief, he felt the toll it took on his body, and he looked back to see if Krest was still there. "Tiring," He mumbled under his breath as he took a new look at his blade. Appearance wise, it looked the same, but it now radiated with darkside energy. Though, it was not done, there was one last thing he had to do. "Do me a favor? Open that door back there and bring me the girl." The sacrifice, a sorceress, and volunteer who had fallen in love with Amarant. She would do anything to appease him, and right now, her death was what he needed most. She would be blind folded, but not resistant, she knew what she had signed up for.

@[member="Krest"]
 
Krest watched on in silence. He wasn't impressed, but he wasn't unimpressed either. Darkside rituals weren't something he was personally found of, but the process was intriguing. He felt his own darkness form, strengthen. So this is what it was like to be in the presence of a Sith sword. He cast a glance at @[member="Amarant deWinter"] when he was done, blinking. This process was almost as tiring as what he did with his own blade, if not more so.

The Zabrak only nodded in response, opening the door to collect the female. He didn't know what was about to happen, but Dark rituals rarely ended well for those who ended up part of it.
 

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