@
Sirella Valkner @
Anaya Fen @
Spencer Jacobs @
Ryori Za'tire @
Darren Shaw @
Emberli Garett @
Tirdarius @
Asemir Lor'kora @
Radon Mont @[member='Mikhail Shorn'] @[member='Reyven Samoth'] @[member='Val'Ryss Zankarr'] @[member='Darth Apparatus'] @
Kiara Alanna Decoix @[member='Tal Lom'] @[member='Tirdarius']
(ATTENTION ALL WRITERS IN THE LORDS OF THE SITH: PRIMACY THREAD. This post, affects YOU. This is the final battle, and this will be my final effort in defeating the Empress. If you would all post, in addition to whatever duels you are engaged, your reaction to having a portion of your strength depleted via Force Drain, as well as your reaction to Force Plague. Everyone should stop in their tracks and end their duels, to observe the Final Duel, the True Duel.)
As the fat man soon became overwhelmed by the simple strikes of the Empress, he stepped back, his sabers threatening to leave his hand.
“Enough of this!” The Darth shouted, throwing the Empress away from him as he stepped back. His yellow eyes were reddening with rage, and his skin cracked around them slightly. He breathed quite heavily, almost deliberately slow however. His arms by his side, burned slightly from the sparks of the colliding lightsaber’s, it had been a great effort to keep them with his person, and had to rely on the force from time to time, to keep hold of them.
“I’ve indulged you long enough and I must say,” The Darth glared at her maliciously.
“I… am… starving.” A grim smile creped its way onto his face. It was time to finish this. This entire duel, he had succumbed to the power, and rage granted to him by a much older, and strong power, drowning in it entirely. The psyche that was Voracitos that had so led him through every corner of his life, the Greed of Boke, had been pushed down into the Lord of Gluttony’s deepest thought, so far removed from the all dominating and increasing rage the filled his entire being. The suppressed power that the Darth once held so true to his life style was now dwarfed by the enormity of his rage; the very rage that was destroying him as much as it was making him stronger.
Suddenly the fat man’s head whipped backwards, his arms to the side, his tattoos intensifying their glow ever greater, as a light shimmered into existence emanating from his mouth, and eyes. At first, it was a deep red, symbolizing his rage, and Apparatus’s. But what would be much to the surprise of his power source, a new source began to overtake the Sith Masters. It shimmered as it split between red and sickly green. But just as this was happening, the immediate rubble around him began to lift into the air, and spin. At first, it was a slow motion, but as an unwanted visitor attempted to enter the field of debris, it gradually rotated faster and faster, while coming closer and closer to the Darth (in the likeness of a planets gravitational field).
He imagined the entirety of the awe that would be produced from this performance that none could ignore, (especially for what happens next) with every head turned to the massive beam of light from the source of the Darth that had been there not just a moment before. The conflicting light began to expand until it absorbed the image of the fat Darth entirely. The debris spun faster, as even more debris, from all around the throne room began to become under the hold of this being of rage, and greed.
But from where, had this new and sudden surge of power come from? Well it came from a very reliable source, as it would be that those too weakened by the ravaging effects of Darth Voracitos, would be kneeling to the Empress and her opponent. From the point of the light emanating from his mouth, his power reached out, to touch all who resided here; Sith, Mandalorian, Civilian, animal: all was food to the Lord of Gluttony. Tentacles of red, and green alike spread like a wild fire from the ground, and like lightning from the air; striking, and engulfing some with a most hideous effect. A plague was sent out through the pulsating epicenter of the massive pillar of light.
Within the radius, all would have their attention affiliated upon the source of misery. As their strength began to deplete from the plagues terrible effects, regardless of species, or tolerance to disease or poison, all would be wracked with pain. But that strength of which is lost to them, is not simply destroyed, or wasted, no… from the weakness he had created in those in the room, the tentacles of before than unleashed a new havoc, literally draining a portion of the life force of all the individuals within the room, and within its radius, along with any useful knowledge locked away in their skulls.
The Dark energies the massive man collected pulsated through his body, introducing a new light, that would soon engulf the conflicting emotions, manifest within the engulfing beam. The dark, obsidian purple replaced the garish spectacle of crimson and sick, and established a new being of darkness. From all those in the room, much had been stolen, but none had died or would. It was not act of mercy, as much as it was he wanted them to watch.
The flying debris all around the room, knocking unfortunate participators in the room down, battering all those who dared to keep from kneeling began to rotate almost impossibly fast, as it descended to the beam of darkness, enclosing its purple light in a myriad of rubble. Stone, metal, glass, random other things, collected themselves to form a column of a dark grey black before the rest of the assembly. All the tentacles had dispersed as the light faded with the building of the column. Debris and rubble ceased to move. The effects of the plague began to ware off, as silence befell the room. Before them was a smoking pillar of black, of where the Darth had once stood. But as they watched, the silence would soon be shattered.
The same, glowing tattoos, that had covered the skin of the fat man before, now seemed to begin appearing on the pillar as well, generating steam, as it appeared as if fire was burning their inscriptions upon the pillar. Then, the entire thing began to shift, and turn, as if writhing with life itself. Perhaps some would notice it as the material’s very reality was being shifted, bent, or entirely replaced. This, was Sith Alchemy, all the knowledge that anyone knew of it was now his, and the power necessary to become, literally, his own forge, was granted to him through them. Soon, the random rubble began to blacken entirely, obtaining a glass like look that shone like metal, as if it was a deranged hybrid of Obsidian and Steel.
It began to crack all around, starting a resemblance to the form of Darth Vorcitos, starting from the head down. The top very suddenly exploded, revealing underneath an assortment of seemingly random horn like structures, atop a faceless helm. But it did not stay that way as everything else hadn’t, for long. A purple glow began to bore through in two points in the face things, spreading throughout it like cracks, forming eerie eyes, as the rest fell apart like ash, as if the light was too hot. Beneath the ash like substance, a familiar face formed without expression.
His face, remained black, and the eyes went unchanged, as the rest of his body began to form, with the strange material falling away like ash to his forming feet. All around the armor body, as he began to form totally, was not the same. It was a forest of divots, and spikes, twisted, and nearly all encompassing. Most prominently, his twisted, tree like arms were spiked in the likeness of roots, ensnaring his two lightsabers; of which were they, themselves ensnared into a display of color. Lightning, of red, green, and purple surrounded the blade, which was fixed into the new skin of the Lord of Gluttony, the Pillar of Envy.
The deranged form of this behemoth monstrosity began to stir. His face began to contort slightly as he felt the improvements; and then smiled ear to ear in delight. As his lips separated and let out a laugh, the same purple light escaped him in the likeness of a breath into the cold air of morning. His voice, was three fold, one of Voracitos, one of Apparatus, and another new one entirely. His laughter echoed throughout the throne room, his arms to his side again, relishing the power he had created for himself. He looked back down to the Empress before him, unimpressed.
“Do you look upon me Desmius? Do you not see the extent of my power, oh how wonderful it is!” another short laugh. The fat man felt as a god would; he felt unlimited, unrestricted… invincible. But little to his knowledge, he was far from it. Right now, he was at the peak of his power, the full extent of where he could go, where most Sith can’t. But when once a person reaches their peach, the only other place to go, is straight down; and this was exactly what was happening to the Darth. His body, had already been ravaged by rage, he was already unhealthy, and now as he accumulated this seemingly impossible power, it was through Sith Magic, and like all magic, for something to be made something must be given.
The entire life of Voracitos now rested into the ability of the Empress, of how quickly she could defeat him, who quickly could she get around his armor of Corruption, which blackened the very floor beneath him, as a walking furnace of Sith Magic. His body was degrading at such a rapid pace, soon the fall would be at hand, and the Darth would be at his Empress’s mercy.
He didn’t know it, but he was dying, and the only one that could save him was his enemy.
