Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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New Initiates

J3C0

Guest
J
Darth Nazari found himself standing on a familiar transport heading towards the core worlds of the galaxy. There was a slight smile on his face below his mask, a taunt to the galaxy that no one could see. Behind him stood two new members who were to meet the Dark Lord. Two Sith who had proven themselves ready to be inducted into the Order. Both of them had proven to be unique, and deserving of some trust.

Ultimately it was the Dark lord that would have the last say on them joining the Order. It was he who would make the decision to either allow them into the Order, or eradicate their very beings. Nazari however was confident that he would allow these two, both of them had been hand picked and researched by The Togruta himself.

Recruitment was one of his jobs in the One Sith, and so far he had done it quite well.

“We will be on Prakith soon. I suggest you both prepare yourselves.” Nazari spoke to the two inductee's, serious concern in his voice. The Dark Lords very presence could be...disturbing. Hoshek and Asmodea had nearly been knocked unconscious by his voice. The Dark Lord was...intoxicating in some ways, and it took some strength to resist his influence, whether good or bad.

It would be interesting to see how these two reacted.
@[member="Isley Verd"] @[member="Ayra"]
 
| @[member="Darth Nazari"] | @[member="Isley Verd"] |

Ayra was stood just behind Darth Nazari, arms folded across her chest, the Sith robe that she wore over her equally as black commando uniform hanging inches off of the transports floor. Her hair had been tied into a ponytail, which hung to the left hand side of her shoulder. It further illuminated the rising, Massassi tattoo that had been wrote onto the left hand side of her face, rising from underneath her chin near her throat to the top corner of her left eye. Anyone familiar with the language would read it as, "Slave."

An petite woman, Nazari and Verd, as well as the Dark Lord of the Sith who resided on Prakith could be forgiven into thinking that she was rather weak physically. That her occupation as a Sith Marauder must have astounded Nazari when he had ventured to Korriban to recruit her. With the collapse of the Sith Empire, she too was making preparations in the case that it died under the relentless assaults of the Republic, Fel Empire, Mandalorians and Jedi Order. She was devoted to the cause of the Sith Empire, but then she was a Sith. She had to be prepared in the case that the Empire did die, so that she could continue the fight. So when Nazari had approached her about the One Sith, she had accepted to meet with the Dark Lord, in order to find out more about the organization. The fact that she hadn't heard that the One Sith still existed until Nazari had met with her in the Sith Academy on the outskirts of Dreshdae told the blonde fury that was stood behind him that they were doing things properly. It had taken Darth Krayt several decades until he usurped the Fel and created his Galactic Empire. Furthermore, the dark side had told her to go with him.

So she remained silent for the time being, following the secretive Sith Lord that had introduced himself as Darth Nazari. He was guiding her and the other man who had accompanied them; and so too was the dark side. She believed in it still, as she had always done. It would lead her in the right direction, she was sure.
 
Over the course of many months, the life of Isley Verd had went through phenomenal changes. What set these dramatic shifts into motion was simply an outing in the deserts of Tatooine, for the sake of training. There, Isley had a heart to heart with himself; and finally acknowledged the presence of the Dark Side within him. From there, he called upon it, relied upon it, and otherwise allowed it to characterize every fiber of his being. Things finally came to a head when the Mandalorian began training at the feet of Sith Lords long since deceased, via holocron, and came to terms with that which he had become. He was no servant of the Empire, nor did he swear fealty to the Order of Sith which populated its borders. He found the whole of them weak and dismal, unable to so much as scratch the enemies which were knocking at their door.

But still, Isley knew that those Sith shared something in common with him. Something that no other congregation in the Galaxy would allow to exist unchecked...or at least, that is what he thought. Apparently, numerous successful operations had caught the attention of another organization, which claimed to be the True Sith. They clung to the shadows and did their deeds in secret; so much so that Isley had only heard whispers of their existence from the pages of history. As such, when the invitation came one fateful evening, the Mandalorian eagerly accepted. One so-called Darth Nazari had seen fit to seek him out on Krant, his new "stomping ground", and personally enlightened him to the existence of One whose power would triumph over any in the known Galaxy. This power rested in the hands of their Dark Lord...one who Isley now ventured to meet.

In silence, the beskar-garbed warrior stood. His eyes, stained orange by the presence of the Dark Side, wandered from behind his visor, taking in the sights before them. When the Sith who had orchestrated this meeting spoke, Isley simply responded in turn with a grunt of acknowledgement, coupled with a slight nod.

@[member="Darth Nazari"], @[member="Ayra"].
 

J3C0

Guest
J
The shuttle made its way into the atmosphere of Prakith rather quickly, the shuttle pilot having made this journey several times before. The ship found its way across the cold dead atmosphere quickly, crossing its desert terrain without even a moments of hesitation. Before too much time had passed the shuttle found the Dark Lords Fortress, and ancient tomb like place that stood on the edge of a cliff.

From the outside it looked completely abandoned, though of course that was simply a trick of the force.

As soon as the shuttle passed through a sort of “barrier” the fortress changed. The decrepit and run down buildings reformed. The ancient turbo-laser batteries became shiny and new. The walls rebuilt themselves, and the entire fortress became a foreboding hunk of blackness, instead of a run down mess. It was nearly awe inspiring, how well it had been hidden.

The Shuttle touched down, and almost as soon as the ramp lowered Nazari spoke. “Come.”

The Togruta quickly bade the two Sith to follow him, his expression one of consternation. They made their way through the fortress quickly, as they did so several sights could be seen.

Dozens of Sith Lords, most with red and black Skin were training. A massive amount of them were alien, Twi'leks, Togruta, Chagrin, Nagai, Zeltrons. Among them were only a few humans, something utterly rare within the Sith.

Along with the cornucopia of aliens the entire fortress seemed to be filled with an air of power and dread. The Dark Lord's presence could be felt even here, and it was as if the world would shatter at his whim.

When they arrived before the Dark Lords throne room Nazari stopped, he turned around before the doors and faced the two initiates. “His voice has the potential to shatter your minds. Braces yourselves.”

With that the Togruta turned about and opened the massive double doors to the Throne room. As soon as he did a wave of Darkside energy crashed upon the three Sith. A torrent of dread, power, anger, and every other hateful emotion poured over them like a tsunami over a beach. It seemed to shred the very air.

m899nsi.png

The voice was pure rapture, ringing out as if the galaxy was ending at his command.
 
| @[member="Darth Nazari"] | @[member="Isley Verd"] |

Ayra's arms fell to the side as the scream hit her. As her hand curled around the hilt of her Lightsaber, she heard what came from what she first thought to be an attack. Dread filled her, mixing with her own emotions. It was not fear that forced her to kneel, it was her own physical body falling under the effects of the one word.

m899nsi.png
Seething in rage, the blonde fury lifted her golden eyes towards the presence, on her knees. Her unadulterated rage poured out of her in waves, but she could not rise yet. Her legs wouldn't let her, which made her even more angry.
 
The warning uttered by the Darth before him was taken in stride, for the Mandalorian was well aware of the fact that many Sith were prideful creatures. Only when the doors opened did Isley learn that, in fact, the Togruta had been sincere about his warning...

m899nsi.png

It only took less than a millisecond for Isley to realize that all of his power, all of his training, and all of his skill...amounted to nothing. The crushing realization weighed down upon him like a mountain; just as the tsunami of Dark Side energy crashed down upon him without restraint. The sensation that wreaked havoc upon the Mandalorian's thoughts and emotions was beyond what his feeble mind could even begin to describe. The power was just so vast, so wrathful, so...full of the Dark Side. Isley had deluded himself into thinking that he was of the Darkness and that he had known what it meant to be touched by the Dark Side of the Force, but only now did he realize that these suppositions were but boyhood fantasies compared to the terrible might of the real thing.

He fell to his knees, driven down by the sheer magnitude of it all. The power was simply too great for him to bare standing up, and it felt as though every breath he drew was shredding apart his lungs...in addition to every fiber of his being. There was pain, yet there was not. There was confusion, yet there was clarity. In these moments of feeling smaller than the particles which made up his being, Isley recognized what true power felt like. Though humbled beyond words, the blindness was stricken from his eyes: and now he saw the majesty of the Dark Side of the Force. Almost driven by instinct, the Mandalorian's arms opened wide; as if to receive some sort of unspoken blessing. The terrible might which crashed down upon him had brought moisture to his eyes and caused a broken, twisted smile to appear on his face.

This was it. The true power to be held in the Dark Side.

@[member="Darth Nazari"], @[member="Ayra"].
 

J3C0

Guest
J
Nazari did not kneel, the Dark Lord's voice did not destroy his mind like it did the others. It did however feel like a thousand pin pricks within his brain. It was not a feeling of pain, but pure anxiety. It was as if at any moment the Dark Lord could choose to end Vash without any further thought tot he matter. A statement that was probably true. The Darth stood and watched, his eyes completely fixated on his Lord as he spoke to the two Other Sith besides him.

A creeping feeling fell down his spine.
o8MWrxk.png
The Dark Lords voice broke the world seemingly. The Power that rushed through the room was almost unimaginable, as if the world was being torn asunder. The Dark Lord broke them, and rebuilt them all at the same time.
Vuikp5M.png
Pure and utter rapture would run through them as they received the Dark Lords offer. Another taste of his strength.
@[member="Isley Verd"] @[member="Ayra"]
 
| @[member="Darth Nazari"] | @[member="Isley Verd"] |

Ayra felt the anger drain out of her suddenly. She felt her mind clear and that allowed her to think. At first she wondered why she suddenly did not feel anger for the entity that had forced her to her knees. The last man that made her kneel in his presence was her Sith Master, Darth Mendacium and that had been two decades ago, when she was inducted onto his Sith Marauder training regime. Any other man who had tried to do the same, or attempt to subjugate her, would pay the price. She soon realized that it was the Force that strangled her, stopping her from speak aloud. That it was the dark side telling her, "You cannot beat this entity. So do what you have to do."

She did not lift her gaze as she spoke. The questions she had could be answered by another Sith on Prakith, but not the Dark Lord that was before her. "I pledge my allegiance to you, my Lord."
 
The sheer power laced within each and every syllable of the Dark Lord washed over the Mandalorian. Unlike the first utterance, this experience now was pure rapture. Every fiber of Isley's being pleaded for him to yield, to simply open himself and his heart to the Dark Lord of the Sith...and so he did. With arms wide open ever still, he uttered in a voice as bold as he possibly could: "I yield, I yield, Dark Lord of the Sith! I submit to your power and pledge my alliegiance to you! For you, my blade shall cut down your enemies! For you, the strength within me shall be used to fulfill all that you command! Order me as you see fit, and I shall always obey. Upon my life, this I swear, my Lord." When his proclamation came to a close, the Mandalorian lowered his head in reverence, then remained silent.

@[member="Darth Nazari"], @[member="Ayra"].
 

J3C0

Guest
J
(can't do fancy Dark Lord text, sorry!)
The Dark Lord smiled upon his throne, two more subjects.

Slowly the Dark Lord stepped from the dais where his throne was, he took a few steps down towards his two new subjects, starting at them. Then all of a sudden like a viper he grabbed them, and the force shot out through his palm. A black burning sensation would appear upon their skin. Dark Hard brands would be burned into their epidermis, the Dark Mark that would grow as their knowledge did. The Mark that would make them One Sith.

“From this day forth. You are Metus.” He looked at Isley. “And Ayra. Darth's of the One Sith.”

He looked at Ayra with the last gaze, a smirk growing on the Voss' face.
@Ayra @Darth Metus
 
| @[member="Darth Nazari"] | @[member="Darth Metus"] |

Ayra winced when the Dark Lord touched her. Her golden eyes averted from the floor to the place were the burning sensation was. She saw that, through a scorched hole made through her Sith robe and combat t-shirt was a mark, of sorts. It was raised just above the rising, Massassi tattoo that translated as 'Slave' in Basic, like the Dark Lord had purposefully placed the One Sith symbol above the word to indicate, "You are now my slave."

She bowed her head before rising, as Darth Ayra. She remained silent for the moment. That was what felt right.
 
With each step brimming with power supreme, the Dark Lord of the Sith descended from his throne in order to grace his new servants with his presence. Isley had no more words to say, nor did he feel that he could speak if he tried. However, he looked up; his eyes meeting those of the Dark Lord momentarily. 'Twas much akin to looking into the face of Death itself...Like lightning, the Dark Lord snatched his right forearm into his grasp and Isley felt the force surge forth from his grasp. His skin then began to feel as though it had been ignited by the hottest flame, and the burning sensation spread up along his arm. It moved, forming an intricate Mark of Darkness which coiled itself around his arm, right pectoral, and snaked around his neck.

There was not an audible response from the Mandalorian, for even though the burning sensation was the source of much pain, he did not have it in him to even move. He simply looked upon the Dark Lord, still captivated by the sheer might of the Dark Side that poured throughout him. And then...Isley had a name. Chosen by the near-deity himself.

Darth Metus, of the One Sith.

"T-Thank you, My Lord." he managed to say, lowering his head in gratitude. Then, once the Dark Lord relinquished his grasp, the Mandalorian willed himself to stand, and shakily did so before uttering a single inquiry. "Why is thy bidding, my Master?"

@[member="Darth Nazari"].
 

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