Populate Midnight Mass | DE Populate of Vortex

[Collector]

Darth Solipsis​

If one were to ask just how long the Purple Tent had been on Vortex, they'd find themselves struggling to find an answer. Surely, it'd been there for days, maybe weeks. Perhaps months? Those who thought too hard on the matter often found themselves with a rather puzzling headache. Nevertheless, the tent stood in all its technicolor glory. Though, for a rare moment the tent's flaps remained tied down.

Whatever had possessed the Collector, be it the call of future business or perhaps sheer boredom, to leave the confines of his establishment was unknown, perhaps even to him. The only solid-colored items in his possession were his boots, tall, black, and bearing a stark contrast to the ostentatious spectacle that was the rest of him. Purple skin both marred and inked was only mostly hidden by the deep v of the patched poet shirt. A brilliant overcoat featuring nearly every color imaginable brought everything together. A quick glance would write him off as an entity dressed only for show. A second look would reveal that each item on his person, down to metallic caps that decorated his horns, had more to them than what meet the eye.

Nevertheless, the purveyor found himself temporarily bereft of his wares, at least for the moment. Instead, the horned man of lavender leaned lazily against a wall, a bejeweled wine glass resting in his ringed fingers as he observed the scene before him. If there were any nerves surrounding the present company, he did not show them, downing the rest of his glass and clipping it to his belt as he pushed off from the wall.

The soft pat of ringed fingers meeting flesh gently reverberated through the area, not meant to draw the attention of more than a select few. "What a charming ceremony," a warm voice drawled as he approached the throne, arms spreading in a grand albeit casual gesture. He stopped a respectable distance from the throne itself and the Sith upon it. "I daresay it's been some time since I've witnessed such a christening. What a way to bring the players together."

 

[Creuat]

He felt a response from the artifact. Almost as if it was shocked to feel Creuat’s power manifesting over itself. He greedily smirked, putting in more of his power to suppress the device and make fear its master.

It wouldn’t be as easy as he expected it to be, his confidence betraying him and his mind and spirit attacked unforgivably. The disturbance he caused would be costly for all, especially to the himself. It was almost as if his spirit was detached by his body; reality was bent and the void continued to grow. He felt as if his skin would melt. His fears echoed in his mind and vibrated in his heart.

He reached out to his anger, his hate and used his raw emotions to magnify his power and continue to bend the artifact to his will.

Sinestra | Prowler | Brutalis | Kaleb Sunwalker | Dark Side Elite
​

Dice Tally:
1. 19
2. 11

 

[Lossa Darcuhl]

Location: Temple Of The Sith - Akar Tsis
Equipment: Jumpsuit and Armor
Accessories: Bracelet, Echo Stone
Weapons: Lossa's Saber, Turmoil Saber, Concealed Blaster, Nasty-Stabby
Tools: Fusioncutter
Ship: The Zipper
Tags: Romi Jade Darth Solipsis

The message had been heard loud and clear from the Master that had left her in charge of the Jakku Enclave.

Albeit the typical response of charging headlong into trouble and hoping for the best result was abandoned today in exchange for something more fitting. Taking the smaller vessel she owned for the entry and exit in case things got out of hand. It helped the little thing bristled with weapons in case she had to punch a hole through whatever tried to stop her from leaving. But it was something she didn't want to test out without knowing she had some assurance of safety beyond that wall and not just more obstacles in her path.

She could feel the dark side swirl and gather on the planet. Everything present was basking in the energy, and rather than fight it as she had before, she allowed the dark side to flow in her as well. Having fought and struggled to push away the easy affinity throughout her time as a jedi proper with little success.

Instead using it to further cover her presence as the emotions she'd kept buried were let loose and centered herself in them, visibly dancing across her eyes. Anger was an easy enough emotion to ground herself in given how long she had held onto the failings of her father. The unresolved feelings of her home life had boiled and festered for so long now that she doubted she would ever feel at peace without some sort of miracle. The feelings she had set aside from being tasked with running the Jakku Enclave offered a different flavor of anger, spinning the sudden burden of authority paired with the murmurs of dissent to her abilities from those that were masters of the Enclave. That feeling had carved out it's own portion of the scant sliver of peace she had in her mind some time ago but hadn't been allowed to see the light of day. Meditation had been an even more troubling affair for some time now between those moments of study. Always finding her slipping back into those emotions that would pull her down and away from the path everyone had wanted her to follow.

The reminder of those expectations doused her in another flavor of anger and resentment that she had pushed aside. The reminder that she was supposed to follow a set path dolled out by the powers that be within the Jedi themselves. Rulers of their own sort that sat in power and allowed whatever they deemed suitable to happen, or turned a blind eye to the ramifications of their inaction.

The demand to follow the straight and narrow as best they were able lest they fall to the dark side. As so many apparently had by the way the galaxy seemed to ebb and flow with goodwill and harmful intent at the flip of a switch. The reminder of Denon and the lack of oversight by those claiming to be tenders of the peace had her thumbing her nose once more as she flew.

A stark reminder that peace and tranquility only existed if you were in a position of power to enforce your ideals on those less able to fight for their own.

All things she would think on when she was finished with this ordeal, and could safely let her guard down to allow herself to think. In this moment, she simply held onto the bubbling wrath she felt. Where pettiness might have found her messing with the ships that had carried the envoys of the darkside here. The widening chasm of anger and resentment had her pushing ahead to find her missing family and teacher. She would push ahead where others were either too cautious or simply too afraid to tread.

And would wield what was available to her to help with the task. At least that was what she had told herself in the moments before she had to make those choices.

Where the light had continued to offer her a troubled mind, the dark seemed to wrap itself around her as a comforting friend while she moved in her pained silence. Both gave, but the dark side carried with it a promise that appealed to her now. To offer power without the need to focus. To give freely without the need to think. It sharpened the single minded focus she had and aiding her breathing that had become more and more shallow as the gentle bump of her stomach that had changed to a rounded swell. Almost beyond the point of acting on her own, the Zeltron had moved against the warnings leveled at her.

But Romi deserved what effort she could give while she could give it. And she wouldn't shy away from the chance to act while she could.

Knowing full well she was stepping into a nest of danger that could have her losing far more than just her teacher and friend. She reasoned that reward did not come without risks. And this was a chance to use those ill given gifts from the little sithling healer to her advantage.

She had plotted her path from the quick glance across the stretch of land between herself and the temple. Focusing on the source of that call that barely remained in her mind now. Some other presence was distorting things about her, and made it all the easier for her to sink into the dark side as she carefully moved forward. Using the binoculars built in to her helmet to keep track of those wandering guards. The scanner in her helmet providing a limited view of the area around her with the altered power output to keep from some force-forsaken scanner catching the signature.

She wasn't entirely sure what the routine for the patrolling guards were, and she didn't remain long enough to plot out the schedule as she moved forward. All the while silently thankful she'd had the sense to make the Jumpsuit stretchy and flexible as each squat and bend made the chest piece bite into her collar.

She watched an anxious group disappear into an entrance, and spied more robed figures ambling about the surface level of the temple. Easy marks any given day but made all the more difficult given the wandering patrols that didn't have an accounted for path. But chance was present as one wandered away after a sharp nod that had the hood of their Robe shake. The exact thing she needed for the time being.

The Dark side swirled around her in place of the usual meditative way she influenced the light. Wrapping around her in the same way the Robes she had spied did and covered her face in a dark shroud. Emerging from cover when she was sure everything was clear to follow behind the singular figure that she'd targeted.

It wasn't long before the disgruntled figure whipped around to demand her intentions be made clear. Her singular arm reaching out and breaking the illusion that covered her. The odd silence broken by a singular sharp note of surprise as her hand clasped around their throat and tightened.

Most beings within the galaxy were alarmingly strong, whereas Lossa had been made to stand above the majority without the need for special gloves or training to be deadly with just a hand.

The clawing hands scratched against her pink skin and left slight red grooves behind as her mind faltered at the sudden choice she had to make.

Dispose of the one in front of her, or knock them out?

Behind the helmet she blinked at the sudden gravity of her choice. One that would potentially set her down paths she hadn't foreseen. She'd killed before sure. Had done so for the Trade League fighting for a planets freedom and a number of other times. The majority were near faceless in the heat of the moment, and didn't stare at her so plainly while fighting for the life with the only tools they had available.

A hand broke away from the clawing attempts at freedom and darted towards their waist.

Her decision made in that moment as the dark side swirled. Feeding into her mind the need to disregard the beings life for the safety of the mission ahead, her own safety, and her child's safety.

The sharp crack of the beings neck seemed to echo in her helmet as she let the body drop. The fell like a weighted sack to the ground, gurgling as they twitched and writhed while staring up at the sky. Glancing to her hand before the sound of footsteps announced themselves to be too fething close for comfort. Her mind rationalizing the choice as a needed consequence for her to get inside as she drug the body out of sight. Taking the heavy Robe and throwing it around herself.

A quick search of their belt revealing a lightsaber stored on their belt. Her decision made all the easier now as the hood was pulled over her helmet, the Sith lightsaber added to the two already on her hip, and her steps leading her towards the entrance where she joined a small group headed inside.

Silently altering the speaker in her helmet to skew her voice as she garbled out a response to the sharp greeting the other hooded figures gave her. She followed them down, never straying from them as they continued in silence, and she felt the darkness deepen with each step.

Summary
○Romi's call through the Force brought her student out to find her.
○Acting alone, Lossa has killed a cultist, stolen their Robe and lightsaber to infiltrate the ceremony.
○Has cloaked her lightside presence by allowing the darkside to influence her, and is drawing on the dark side to blend in.

 

[Brutalis]

In the dimly lit chamber, the Mantellian Savrip groaned, his massive form obscured by writhing, pulsating orbalisk armor, thrashes and roars, its primal fury fueled by the coursing adrenaline. The dark side of the Force crackles around it like lightning, amplifying its rage to deafening levels. With sinewy muscles bulging beneath the armor, the savrip's clawed hands reach out hungrily towards the Sith artifact glinting on the floor. Its mind, clouded by the allure of power, betrays thoughts of rivals, imagining them also vying for the artifact, each driven by the same hunger for dominance.

Tags: Sinestra Kaleb Sunwalker Creuat

Tally:
ROUND 1: 9
ROUND 2: 14

 

[Prowler]

With a deep inhale, Prowler taps into the dark side of the Force, drawing strength from his fear. His normally translucent form shimmers with a newfound intensity as he channels the power within. The chamber seems to echo with the whispers of his resolve as he steels himself against the tumult of emotions. As the equivocal rollercoaster of feelings threatens to overwhelm him, Prowler remains steadfast. He rides the waves of fear, allowing himself to freeze in the moment, neither running nor battling. In the darkness, he finds a strange sense of clarity, a twisted serenity born from the chaos of his own mind.

Tally:
ROUND 1 - 3
ROUND 2 - 12

 

[Onrai]

Tags: Derix Tirall Olorion Fossk Darth Vinaze Detritus Ren Cornelius Nibocaj Romi Jade Pietro Demici Darth Bellum Jogon Khamul Kryze Darth Immortuos Shannic Wulf Lord Letifer Spindle Darth Ptolemis Collector Lossa Darcuhl
Direct Tag: Darth Solipsis

"Further understanding of the powers just outside our reach. The stakes behind victory over the Alliance have never been higher, courtesy of my revelations in the Abyss of Ruh while this temple was being constructed. Doubt has been sown between allies of enemies, and the abominations of the Charnel Worlds are yet yours to command, the Rozzum to serve you should you wish it. Even those remaining Space Grazers may yet serve the Empire." The level of enigmatism in her words was part and parcel of the being's relationship with Solipsis, as someone was the antithesis of a blind follower yet whose allegiance remained indisputable to the Emperor regardless as to her unwillingness to take his words to heart so blindly as others.

"If you speak of more pragmatic matters, the new armor for your legions has been finished. My servants' finest creation, and something that will send terror through the hearts of everyone who meets them." Her continuance was broken by the arrival of Pietro, the true sacrifice. From what little Solipsis could discern on Onrai's shadowed visage, she showed only disappointment. Pietro had been taken to her home domain. He had witnessed the dead god-cubes and been exposed to the horrors of that domain in an effort to break him from the delusion that Ashla would yet save him or anyone else from their fate. Yet despite everything he had seen, he still rejected the truth outright, choosing to cling to his false idol. It had been with such reluctance that Onrai had told Maestus to deliver his battered psyche to the Emperor for whatever future plans the Dark Lord had for him - plans that were yet coming to fruition.

Something else came to Onrai's sense. It was confusing, something that shouldn't have been. Her quizzical appearance was equally as momentary before she returned to her more calmed demeanor, the stoic resolve of her shade masking an attempt to feel for any irregularities that had perhaps injected themselves here - barring, of course, Romi's presence. Presuming the Jedi Master didn't meet with a terrible fate, they would need to talk in due time.

 

[Darth Maledictio]

Shadow Emperor, Leader of the Spear, Shadow Dragon

Information

Objective: To attend the meeting
Location: Akar Tsis, Tython
Equipment: Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Tags: Darth Solipsis | Onrai | Jogon | Derix Tirall | Darth Vinaze | Olorion Fossk | Cornelius Nibocaj | Detritus Ren | Romi Jade | Pietro Demici | Darth Bellum | Khamul Kryze | Darth Immortuos | Shannic Wulf | Lord Letifer | Spindle | Darth Ptolemis | Lossa Darcuhl | Open

<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

A Sith Lord is never late. And never early. He arrives exactly when he wants. And that was true of Curse at the moment, for the man was quite busy and had a myriad of things to do back home. He used the quickest way to get from Terraris to Tython. Back home, he crossed into the Netherworld and opened another rift, arriving in the former ancient world where the Je'daii Order once existed before the Rakata Empire found them. The world itself was quite interesting, and he had read much about it in his studies. Truth be told, he had always thought that Tython, Ashla and Bogan would be perfect for the Spear trio as well.

After all Ashla was the moon with the Light Side nexus, Bogan had the Dark Side nexus and Tython was the neutral. At least back in the old days, back in the old days, the Je'daii had to learn to walk the golden mean, because if they strayed from that path, there were, according to legends and writings, massive Force Storms on the planet. True, that was tens of thousands of years earlier, not today. Nevertheless, Curse hoped to find evidence of the Ancient Mavors culture in this place at some point. He hadn't had the opportunity to investigate before, but now that the planet was under the control of the Dark Empire, he could.

In the present, the man had not yet met Darth Solipsis , though they had previously worked together in the shadows during the Second Great Hyperspace War. Curse was the one who helped the Maw achieve results in the Eternal Empire, and the man was responsible for the attack on Odessen, among other things. But that was all long ago, the man wondered what he could hope for this time from this alliance that was to be forged in the Dark Empire...

After arriving, the man walked into the room where among others was the Emperor, Darth Solipsis . as he looked around the room, the man saw countless other Sith or high ranking Imperials. He also noticed the two prisoners, the Cardinal and the famous Jedi. Beneath his hood he smiled, this looked to be a truly interesting day. For a few moments, the man allowed his Force to sweep through the room, in waves; to drawing attention to the fact that he had arrived. If Solipsis looked in his direction, the man bowed slightly and nodded politely in the direction of the Emperor. After this, however, Curse returned to his own mysterious habits, which did so much as hide his presence in the Force.

As he stepped forward, his dark robes followed him like a wave, and the man's graceful movements were as if he were striding above the ground. Curse chose a darker place for himself, some shadowy, dim spot beside a pillar, if there was one. Then, comfortably, leaning slightly against it, he watched and listened from the shadow of his hood, where his face was not visible in the darkness...

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Outfit: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber, Echo Stone | Tag: Lossa Darcuhl , Romi Jade , FYI: Brandyn Sal-Soren ​

Espionage was not her forte, and cloaking one's presence could only go so far among this lot, but Briana did her best. Drawing on the brief teachings and tips she’d been given from her brother, Briana wrapped herself in the neutrality of the Force, hoping the overwhelming blight of the darksides influences would overpower any inkling of light that might slip through. That it might be brushed off as a remnant of the world they were currently working to desecrate.

Briana kept her chin pointed down, her blue eyes half-hooded and long lashes lowered against the apples of her cheek, doing her best to avoid eye contact, lest any see the evidence of her lack of corruption.

Most, she surmised, would not be looking.

Afterall, what Jedi would be stupid enough to enter their midst, alone? To walk into what was so obviously a trap?

The answer, of course, was a Sal-Soren. Always a damn Sal-Soren.

Lifting a hand, Briana pulled softly against the dark hood covering her dark sable braids, trying to better cover her unmistakable features as she discreetly surveyed the gathered crowd, searching for the presence of her cousin.

She knew Lossa well. Knew the flavor of her struggles, and the mark of darkness that’d been weighing her down these last few months. Enough so, that it took little in the way of searching before she found that mind and touched it with the tendrils of the Force that connected them.

A nudge was given, nothing more.

A firm reminder of where Lossa needed to keep herself rooted and aligned. Just because they were amongst the darkness, did not mean they were part of it, and that despite her many previous protests with the entire premise of this plan, of the impossibility of it all — something SID-10S "Sid" had been more than eager to jump in on with his doomsday commentary on their probabilities for success — that Lossa could count on her. Even when the odds were so heavily stacked against them.

…Though, as she glanced towards the dais to finally catch sight of Romi, there was a momentary slip in her resolve. Briana’s insides twisted into large, unsolvable knots, her brows narrowing in on the battered form of her former mentor and friend, bile burning against the back of her throat.

They should have come sooner.

​

 

[Romi Jade]

OBJECTIVE 1: CONSECRATION
AKAR TSIS, TEMPLE OF THE SITH
After: Prophecy of the Four: The Singularity Novel

​

As she hung suspended in the air, the darkness of the throne chamber enveloped her like a suffocating shroud. Sinister shadows danced across the structured walls, casting eerie, shifting shapes that seemed to mock her plight. Bound by energy binders, her limbs felt heavy and immobile, each movement a struggle against the oppressive weight of her captivity...

And after she verbalized her disgust, her body became tired, and she retreated into herself...her locs hanging from her face leaving nothing but a shadow to cover part of her features.

The air hummed with malevolent energy, thick with the stench of ancient rituals and forbidden incantations. The chanting of Darth Solipsis and his acolytes echoed through the chamber, a cacophony of twisted hymns that would send shivers down the spine of the feeble. Every syllable dripped with malice, a symphony of darkness that threatened to consume her very soul.

Despite her fierce defiance, Romi's heart hammered in her chest with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The ritual unfolded before her like a macabre dance, each step bringing her captor closer to his nefarious goal. With each passing moment, she pondered the idea of whether she had truly failed.

Her thoughts raced with bitter despair as she pondered her grim fate. Why had Solipsis not yet ended her life? The answer, she realized with a sinking feeling, lay in the twisted depths of his depravity. She was nothing more than a pawn in his sinister game, a means to an end in his quest for ultimate power.

He needed her, simple.

Yet, even in the face of such overwhelming darkness, a glimmer of hope flickered within Romi's heart. Though her body may be bound, her spirit remained unbroken; she would always be a beacon of defiance until her last breath. However, it wouldn't be easy to maintain given the circumstances.

She had been beaten and battered, her mind assaulted, her strength in the Force siphoned and along with it her identity. She had always had the vision...but now it was becoming increasingly hard to see.

The prophecy was coming true...

And she didn't think the Alliance truly knew what was coming...

---

Darth Solipsis | Lossa Darcuhl | Briana Sal-Soren | Olorion Fossk | Onrai | Darth Vinaze | Pietro Demici | Darth Immortuos | Darth Ptolemis | Jogon | Derix Tirall | Khamul Kryze | Sorry if I missed anyone!​

 

[Pietro Demici]

Pietro Demici: Cardinal of Ashla

Tags: Darth Solipsis , Darth Vinaze , Derix Tirall , Cornelius Nibocaj , Olorion Fossk , Onrai

Light of Ashla

The ushering of Pietro into the chamber required little violence, for the Cardinal had little left in the way of strength, the fires of his voice barely a flickering candle, the air of defiance in his eyes placed in a chokehold of darkness. So long had he preached the holy teachings of Ashla, and with each sermon he had sharpened the flaming sword of the Light in an attempt to cut a blinding swath through the shadow. Yet, with the fire gone, and the sword shattered, Pietro could only stare across the crowded room.

So many faces... some he recognized, some new to him. Yet, each one permeated with the Bogan's stench, making the thick, murky air within the empyrean almost suffocating. Fire needs air to burn, and in this chamber there was none for him to draw from. The heaviness in his chest, whether from sorrow or strain, made his steps sluggish, driven forward only by the shoving of his captors. As he drew closer, he could finally make out the hellish, unbelievable sight of the Sith'ari. Solipsis... greatest enemy of the Crusade and destroyer of worlds had managed to crawl back from the very bowels of whatever damnation awaited those that followed the dark path. For the first time, the Cardinal felt the incredible sadness of defeat deep within his heart. Had all of his efforts been for naught?

Was his entire crusade for his precious goddess a lie?

The thought quickly left his mind as he heard the Dark Lord utter the name of the faithful, causing Pietro to clench his jaw tightly. The disgust in the Sith's words felt entirely too familiar to him, for he too had spoken with that same tone when calling for war against the Sith. Perhaps his critics were right... perhaps he had been no better than those he had sought to destroy. Yet, there was no time for such thoughts. Not anymore. All that was left would be to see what sort of unholy fate would befall him, driving the final nail into the coffin of what was once the most righteous of movements. A final casting of shadow, forever drowning out what little of Ashla's Light may have remained within the galaxy.

 

[Darth Immortuos]

Tags: Darth Bellum Darth Solipsis
Objective: Observe and Verbal Murder
​

Nulgath awaited the Dark Lords response patiently. Even if no answer was given, It was still an answer in itself and one that would be noted by the Overlord of Blackwing. It seemed though, that much more than a simple mass was being held in the chamber though. Turning to the side and peering out toward the crowds, Immortuos lifted a withered left brow at the sudden appearance and weakened state of none other than Romi Jade , A female jedi that he himself had few chances of meeting. None of which were on a conversing basis.

Romi is a firecracker and maverick. How did the throngs of minions manage to handle her capture? Or perhaps I am asking the wrong question...How did Romi manage not to escape? Yes. What happened here little Jedi?

Any Jedi that was able to handle themselves against Kezeroth, the Titan of Rage, should be more than able to do anything they put their mind to. Something told Immortuos that other factors were at play here. Ones he had not accounted for.

Most interesting.

The mass gathering of Sith, Dark Jedi and Darkside zealots was beginning to make more sense and was indeed excellently organized. Even now Immortuos was able to see the propaganda of belief being spread here. " Ah the power of belief." Immortuos said under his breath in part awe and suspicion. The energy in the room was enough to urge him even to join the crowds as their "sacrifice" was prepared for their Dark Lord. Once again though a carefully nurtured sense of paranoia and distractions in his psyche were preventing that from happening. For as long as Nulgath had known and known of Darth Solipsis, he had respected the man but that did not equate to trust. Trust was a weakness. Were trust may of been, instead was paranoia and deception. I have not managed to live this long by having trust.

There was a movement out the corner of his eye that warranted the turn of his head back toward the throne. From the darkness of the overtly large chair a new figure stepped out at the beckon call of the Sith'Ari himself. Darth Ptolemis , The Blasphemer. Then at long last a simple answer came to ear from the Dark Lord.

Only the Strong. The unofficial motto of the New Sith Order in the aftermath of the Sith Schism. And so, as the cultists brought forth their captive, the Emperor remained seated upon his throne, his gaze fixed upon the distant horizon as Darth Immortuos approached.

Unfazed, his voice beckoned in response to the Sith Lord with one word - as his Shadow Hand Darth Ptolemis appeared from the depths to his throne's right hand.

"Victory."

Victory. Yes of course. A sickly thought intruded into the Lord of Decays mind. A thought that turned into a retort to be voiced. Backing away slowly from the Sith'Ari and his entourage of adjacent sith, Immortuos let the sword in his mouth free with a low tone of voice. " Ah yes, Victory. If only, My Sith'Ari, you had such a attribute around you the last time you were..." Immortuos gave a deep elegant bow and glided down the stairs, his withered hands gesturing to everyone in the room and the very planet they stood on. " On Tython." A twisted meddling smirk was etched on his visage. An obvious remark dosed with sarcasm and yet delivered with some measure of respect. For the Lord of Decay had tasted the power structure of the Dark Empire and with it the reputation of the Dark Lord of the Sith, but he had yet to separate reality from myth about "his" Sith'Ari. Giving no room to listen to a response, partly out of respect and not wanting to waste his own time, Immortuos departed into the crowds the same way he entered. His hunched cloaked body merging into the crowds like a diseased womp rat finding its way back into a crack. A path that led the Sith Lord directly into the ghastly presence of a old comrade.

Darth Bellum.
It was within the Lord of Eternal Conflict presence that Immortuos had decided to stay.
" I thought I sensed you prowling about." he bluffed. " Your new complexion suits you, Bellum." He cracked dryly and then continued but in a rather serious questioning tone. " How long do you think this batch with last?" Red eyes peered out at the horde of groveling sith around them.

 

[Darth Bellum]

BELLUM CONTRA OMNES
[ Theme ]

| Location | Akar Tsis, Temple​

| Purpose | Observe​

​

The empty gaze of the resurrected Sith fell from the individuals assembled, hollow eyes moving from those who stood out for the briefest of moments before moving on to the next. It had been some time since Bellum himself attended such a gathering, usually due to his dislike of frivolous meetings perhaps in part due to the Sith Empire of old convening to regurgitate some dribble that directly contradicted much of what he had stood for. But the consecration of a temple to the Dark Side with a sacrificial ritual that offered up Jedi, and a prominent one such as Romi Jade and other prominent followers of the light like Pietro Demici ; now that would be a sight to behold.​

​

The Lord of War paused as his senses seemed to pick up on something off, his refined senses as a seasoned hunter picking up the familiar scent of prey. Amongst the sea of bloodlust, hatred and anguish that constituted the majority of those present, his attention seemed to be drawn in the direction of Briana Sal-Soren , a brief hint of something akin to fear or dread that stood out like the scent of blood. A note of amusement rose within the Sith Lord, though he kept his own discovery to himself, curious to see how the situation may play out.​

​

It was within reason that the Jedi would not forsake one of their own and leave them to be captured and reduced to such a state; a sentiment that made them predictable. His thoughts of curiosity in how many Jedi who still pledged allegiance to the Light being present was disturbed as his name was called out by a familiar voice. His gaze shifted away from the direction his interest had been drawn to meet a familiar face as Bellum's voice rasped,​

​

" Spare me the pleasantries Immortuous... I care not for them. " There was a lengthy pause as his gaze shifted to Darth Solipsis to ponder the Lord of Decay's question before promptly responding, " So long as they shed blood and cull the weak from their ranks, they shall thrive... If not, then they shall fail like their predecessors, growing fat upon their complacency before succumbing to their own arrogance and weakness. "​

​

" I care only for those who hunger and possess the strength to claim what they believe to be theirs. If they lack the vision and will to do so then they are unworthy of my attention or support. "​

​

Darth Immortuos​

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

NEW ESCROW CITY // AARGAU
Darth Machinus

Tithe’s guest was led into the room by his assistant, with the Aargauun motioning for Machinus to join him on a hovercouch overlooking the lights of the New Escrow cityscape. The rented penthouse was spartanly decorated, with the notable exception of a holoterminal projecting a macabre performance against a wall.

On the other side of the galaxy, the great Ashlan cardinal Pietro Demici and a Jedi woman were about to be sacrificed at the feet of the Sith’ari Darth Solipsis . Tithe had fought alongside Pietro during the Second Great Hyperspace War and considered him an honourable man, albeit a religious fanatic. It was telling that while they had both worshipped a higher entity - the Ashlan for Pietro and credits for Tithe - only one of them was about to be sacrificially killed.

A stark reminder that greed was good.

“Indeed it has,” Tithe replied as his human-replicant droid assistant served libations. “While the latest conflict has provided bountiful business opportunities, it has cast a shadow upon my usual sojourns. The prospect of missing the Coruscant Jizz Spectacular for the first time in years fills me with a pang of melancholy, but I digress.”

Tithe took a sip of his drink as the cacophony of carnage broadcast live from Tython played over the holoproj speakers.

“The success of Sonata Industries is spoken of in hushed voices everywhere I seem to go. Ahh yes, there seems to be a new, devious weapon or piece of tech launched every other cycle, if one happens to move in the right circles. I can't help but wonder, have you, perchance, entertained the notion of expanding your market dominion into the enigmatic realm of the Dark Empire?”

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

Location: Akar Tsis.

[Atmosphere]

We are river breakers, the currents shifted by our will.

The ghostly Darth Ptolemis allowed the magnitude of the Emperor Solipsis' words to drag on his soul; river breakers. Indeed, the expression struck a chord with the Shadow Hand as he breathed in the cold fire of these words. River breakers. He repeated to himself, his broken voice rattling behind the mask. Ptolemis' maroon gaze drifted from the Emperor and wandered across those in the crowd as he remained standing by the throne. He noticed the undead Darth Immortuos and the dark spirit Darth Bellum no doubt indulging in conversation about something nefarious. He also observed the immaterial presence of the Force phenomenon that was Onrai , and even caught a glimpse of the shadowy Darth Maledictio , a true Sith Lord from an age past. Yet as quickly as this hooded menace emerged, he disappeared back into the shadows beneath the arches.

Ptolemis' piercing eyes first settled upon the downtrodden Cardinal Pietro Demici being ushered in, then upon the beautiful, bound, floating figure of the renowned Jedi Romi Jade . Keeping his eyes on the gently flowing blonde hair of the captive, Lord Ptolemis leans a bit toward Darth Vinaze to whisper to him. – Can you sense it too, Lord Vinaze? – The Blasphemer refers to the growing disturbance in the Force forming somewhere around them. Is it the presence of someone? Or an echo of the Dark? For now it's subtle, difficult to pinpoint. – Like glass that wants to splinter.​

Tags: Darth Solipsis Darth Vinaze Onrai Cornelius Nibocaj Derix Tirall Darth Bellum Khamul Kryze Shannic Wulf Darth Immortuos Pietro Demici Romi Jade Lossa Darcuhl Collector Darth Maledictio Briana Sal-Soren ​

 

[Vora Kaar]

Observation of this new collection of Sith. It was interesting to see. A church as they called it. The religious purpose of a collection that would enact an almost cultic faith for which these individuals would follow. The strength of these individuals coming forward to proclaim themselves the hands, eyes, ears, whatever, of this proclaimed Sith'ari. It was yet another group of Sith who sought to give power to their "god."

Vora had my own reservations of such a title. A God-King of people whose entire purpose was to become stronger of their own merit. Not to bequeath such to someone else. Chains that held one in a place of stagnation were being formed. Surely while his own thoughts considered such things as the beginning of such stagnation. Yet, there was much within this group. People and individuals who sought to become stronger of their own. Taking what is meant for themselves even under the power and juxtaposition of their Godly being.

Two individuals who he knew from before. Spoke to one another. Darth Immortuos and Darth Bellum kept to themselves. Yet, as they continued to do so, it took little to understand their own grievances. There will be those who wholly side with the Sith'ari, and those who seek to use such advantage to gain not just power, but strength in the force, and of individuality.

These sacrifices in the name of such a lord seemed unnecessary. Even so much as a renowned Jedi Warrior of Romi Jade . There is an aspect of respect to be given to the Jedi for holding out such a time against not just the Sith Empire, The New Sith order, but also against the Brotherhood of the Maw, the New Imperial Order and the waste of time that was the Warlords of the Sith. They have survived all of that. To treat them with such abandon was a fools choice.

"There will be a few who stand among the rest as those who would take their own. It will come in due time. O'brothers mine."

 

[Kaleb Sunwalker]

Tags: Sinestra Brutalis Prowler Creuat

Through rising insecurities would Kaleb continue his efforts to impose his will upon the horrid device before him. This thing... This conduit of fear itself had made Kaleb feel uneasy about himself. The more he continued to stare at it, the more the harsh whispers would only continue to persist. The whispers mocked him. How the device laughed at his wants and desires, stoking the flames of his fears deep within. Kaleb's body screamed at him to get away while he could, to flee from this powerful force that even to a Sith Holocron seldom compared to the whispers of power that haunted him every night.

The Phobis device took great delight in trying to poke holes in Kaleb's own ego. Constantly did it tell him that he truly was no Jedi. He was not even worthy to become Sith, for what good did his righteousness do if he couldn't commit to the dark side. The device mocked him for what he was, what he stood for. What he dare pretended to be, even now did it tell him that there was nothing but hollow delusion. Kaleb could feel the bullets of sweat slowly drip down, his teeth gritting as he tried to push past the doubts laid out by the device.

His nerves tensed, the device continued it's bombardment pushing up the waves of fear. Further did the device tell him that he would betray the Empire. That he didn't have it in him. That he would be destroyed once his purpose no longer had any use. Kaleb shook his head, for he chose this path, or one could say it chose him. He wouldn't let this ancient toy of the Sith try to stop him. It can look deeper, reach further into the abyss only to find the Dark Jedi smiling back at the beast that threatened to ruin him from the inside out. Kaleb hardened his gaze, even as his nerves tensed and his body started to shake. He wouldn't give in for fear wasn't his master but his slave to command.
​

Round 1: 12
Round 2: 1

​

 

[Darth Vinaze]

THE PROPHET

Darksiders: Darth Solipsis Derix Tirall | Jogon | Onrai | Detritus Ren | Darth Ptolemis | Darth Immortuos | Khamul Kryze | Olorion Fossk | Darth Bellum | Shannic Wulf
Honored Guests: Romi Jade Pietro Demici

​

River Breakers. A powerful thought. As Ptolemis echoed the sentiment Vinaze could feel an understanding between the Sith that had gathered here. It was what separated them from the heretics, in truth. It was not who they followed, but what. Even in death, Solipsis' legacy had a rift in the Sith, between those who sought the stability of the old ways, in the re-establishment of a Sith state, and those who took the power of will by the reins. It didn't matter that the Brotherhood of the Maw had failed, because their war machine of epic proportions had allowed the Sith to reach depths in the eternal struggle that were unprecedented. And now, with a straight shot at a second chance, the kind of Sith that flocked to the NSO would once again prove themselves as River Breakers.

Can you sense it too, Lord Vinaze? – The Blasphemer refers to the growing disturbance in the Force forming somewhere around them. Is it the presence of someone? Or an echo of the Dark? For now it's subtle, difficult to pinpoint. – Like glass that wants to splinter.

"The Force has never felt such a pull from the Darkside. It quivers in the face of our victory, for the scales have tipped, and the Jedi Order's precious notion of Balance has been overturned." he reassured the Shadow Hand. It was not the first time in Solipsis' rise to power that he had felt the tensions boiling between the Sith, something he could feel yet again as the excitement of the sacrificial rite was coming to a head. Never had he felt such passion in one place. Enemies too, though he had doubt they hid among them, or that they plotted a daring rescue of the captives in distant places, it did not matter. He was reminded of Mustafar. Mandalorians, nor heretics, nor fate, had been able to stop the New Sith Order then. He believed they stood on a similar precipice.

The Dark Side stood stronger than ever, and his initiation with Onrai into the world of Sith deities was now only reassuring Vinaze of the Sith'ari Prophecy, knowing that the Darkness rested not upon the power of deceased ancient Gods, but upon a man, strong and alive. To have himself returned to a mortal form, Vinaze felt that Dark power which they all shared flowing between them, and within him, more powerful than ever...

 

[Sinestra]

MASTER OF DREAD
Open to the Dark Side Elite
Creuat Prowler Brutalis Kaleb Sunwalker
​

No..

No, no...

What if she failed the Emperor?

No, no, no....

What if his Grand Design -- his vision to reshape the galaxy -- did not come to pass because of her?

It cannot happ--..

Sweat beaded on her brow as the fear tightened around her, icy tendrils twisting through her veins. This was not just a test to master the Phobis device, it was a crucible to prove her worth. Sinestra was chosen to enact the Emperor's will, and she would not let her doubts undermine that purpose.

She was the Harbinger of Change.

She would not fail the Emperor.

--

dice tally:
round 1: 7
round 2: 11
round 3: 2

 

[Creuat]

Fear of weakness was his one of the main roots of his insecurities. Were he not powerful years ago on Mon Cala, perhaps his former Master would be alive. Perhaps he would have bested Sinestra and killed her on Nyriaan. Building strength and obtaining power was what motivated before forsaking his former name and now ascending to what he has risen above.

The device whispered to his past failings, doubting his determination as ominous cackles filled his head.

Everything around started to fade, he could no longer see his fellow Dark Side Elite or his hands. Only the baleful, intense crimson emitting from the pyramidical object sitting before him could be seen.

No…

No…

NO…

You will serve me…

Sinestra | Kaleb Sunwalker | Prowler | Brutalis | Dark Side Elite
​

1. 19
2. 11
3. 6

 

[Prowler]

Frozen in fear, Prowler's consciousness became ensnared in a vortex of dread, each pulse of terror reverberating through the depths of his being. The Phobis Device tapped into the darkest recesses of his psyche, conjuring nightmarish visions and twisting his perceptions into a grotesque tableau of horror. Internally, the fear coursed through Prowler like a raging river, its corrosive influence seeping into every fiber of his gaseous form. As the intensity of the terror mounted, subtle changes began to manifest in his swirling hues, the vibrant colors of his essence dimming and warping into a sickly pallor.

Physically, Prowler's gaseous body reacted to the onslaught of fear, its once graceful movements becoming sluggish and disjointed. Like a thick fog descending upon the ground, his form began to sink, tendrils of mist-like substance coiling around him like a shroud. The chamber grew hazy with his presence, the dense fog of his essence enveloping the surroundings in an oppressive veil of darkness. Despite his internal struggle, Prowler fought to maintain his composure, his willpower warring against the suffocating grip of fear. With each passing, be it labored, moment, he sought to regain control over his scattered thoughts and continue the process at any cost.

Tally:
ROUND 1 - 3
ROUND 2 - 12
ROUND 3 - 11

Tags: Sinestra Kaleb Sunwalker Creuat Brutalis @Darkside Elite