Faction Ot Ainah Mgehye'lloig | [ GE's Force Users ]

[Seed of Terror]

O̷̢̗̱̹̱͐̈̓́́͝t̴͔̥̠̬̯͙͕̩̀̀̆̊̚͝ ̷̮͚̜̤̟̟͇̪̗̭͙͉̪̬̤̈́͂́ͅA̶̺͉̲͌̀͆̂͘ì̷̧̠͓̒̐́̌̕ņ̶̮̞̮͓̙̗̝̣̥̙͚̂̽̇a̵̛͈͖̲̯̼̩͖͌̌͆̓͌̓̍̌͛̊̚h̶̨̤͎͓̹͍̜̤͚͍͉͖̏̇̓́̈́͋͛̏͂̓͛͘͝ ̴̰͉̼͔̤͈̦́̂̄̄͋̄͗̔͂̈́͊͘͜͠͠͝M̶̗͖̝̳̱͔͖̘͈̬͙̫͍̆̎̑g̸͈̗̬͖͌͜͝͝ȩ̸̢̛͍̗̺̦̣̣̖̇̏͋̀̃̋̏̏̃̃̎̓̕͜h̸̨̨̫̜͓̱̯̣͔̗͙͚͒̚͜͜͜y̸̫̱̗͍̗͗̓̑͊̄͋́̔̒ȩ̴͎̅'̶̡̦̜̪̹͍̺͍̓̈́͗̋͊̀͗̌͐͜͠l̶͕̤͓͉̆͒́͛̒͗͊͒̈́̆̒̚l̸͇͊̉͛́̽͐̅̄̈́̀̕o̸̧͎̫̘̭̯͖͋̿̌̌͊̎̓̕͜į̶̥̲̬̩̘̱̰̻̰̖̿̔̒̔̏̒̽̾͘̚͝g̷̲̙̠͕̙͙̥̜͈̝͆̿̈́̑̄̔͐͘͠​

Several individuals who had once been members of the Ashlan Crusade had since joined the Galactic Empire. Some of these were Force Users, while others were not. A particular group; one dedicated to the study of religious history and theology, aligned themselves with the Church of the Dark Side, where they continued their research and projects. For a long time, their work yielded only general insights, nothing truly tangible… at least, not until the events of the Planeshift took place. It was then that one of their projects accelerated dramatically.

One of their earliest studies, launched back in the days of the Ashlan Kaiserreich, had borne the motto "know thy enemy". After the Planeshift, this study resurfaced and drew renewed attention. During the age of the Maw, the Ashlans had seized control of a quarantined world known as Wgah’nagl, or The Dark Planet. This world had once been home to an eldritch species known as the Mgepah’bthnk or The Touched, and possessed an unusual faith called Ot Ainah Mgleth, or the Whispers of Truth.

This religion was monotheistic, venerating a god named Gnaiih ot N’ghftnahh; the Father of Shadows in Galactic Basic. The deity was especially intriguing because he was said to be one and the same as Typhojem, the ancient Sith god. Among the records lay an extraordinary account: the Ashlans had captured and slain the religion’s high priestess and/or prophetess, only for her to be resurrected by Ashla’s will as punishment - because she hurt the Ashlan living saint - the Ashlans transformed into a Light Side eldritch being. This woman was now known to the galaxy as Celeste Demici . Following her fateful encounter and duel with Darth Vinaze on Malachor V, she had regained fragments of her memories from that life and had spoken at length of her faith and its whispers.

The religion also described a sacred, hidden place from which the planet’s Force-sensitive priests and priestesses could summon eldritch creatures. Sith summoning rituals were traditionally used to call forth demons or the undead from the Netherworld, yet this was something altogether different. Research indicated that this realm was another Force plane entirely; a dimension referred to by the faith as the Throdog ph’ or the Great Beyond. Now, the group had finally uncovered a way to open a gateway, a rift, into this mysterious plane. More precisely, they had discovered a ritual not only to summon entities from that realm, but to cross over into it themselves.

Of course, this was no simple feat. Not every Force User possessed the strength or knowledge to tear open rifts between planes and dimensions. For this reason, the group summoned the members of the Dark Side Elite, as well as Force Users from the Church of the Dark Side, to Coruscant. There, within the Imperial Palace and at the very heart of its Nexus, they were to perform a grand ritual to open a passageway into the Great Beyond; and to step through it. Their mission: to explore the realm, and, if possible, recover technologies, artefacts, or relics of power.

By the time the volunteers arrived, the group had prepared everything. There was little left to do now but begin the task for which they had been gathered…

O̷̢̗̱̹̱͐̈̓́́͝t̴͔̥̠̬̯͙͕̩̀̀̆̊̚͝ ̷̮͚̜̤̟̟͇̪̗̭͙͉̪̬̤̈́͂́ͅA̶̺͉̲͌̀͆̂͘ì̷̧̠͓̒̐́̌̕ņ̶̮̞̮͓̙̗̝̣̥̙͚̂̽̇a̵̛͈͖̲̯̼̩͖͌̌͆̓͌̓̍̌͛̊̚h̶̨̤͎͓̹͍̜̤͚͍͉͖̏̇̓́̈́͋͛̏͂̓͛͘͝ ̴̰͉̼͔̤͈̦́̂̄̄͋̄͗̔͂̈́͊͘͜͠͠͝M̶̗͖̝̳̱͔͖̘͈̬͙̫͍̆̎̑g̸͈̗̬͖͌͜͝͝ȩ̸̢̛͍̗̺̦̣̣̖̇̏͋̀̃̋̏̏̃̃̎̓̕͜h̸̨̨̫̜͓̱̯̣͔̗͙͚͒̚͜͜͜y̸̫̱̗͍̗͗̓̑͊̄͋́̔̒ȩ̴͎̅'̶̡̦̜̪̹͍̺͍̓̈́͗̋͊̀͗̌͐͜͠l̶͕̤͓͉̆͒́͛̒͗͊͒̈́̆̒̚l̸͇͊̉͛́̽͐̅̄̈́̀̕o̸̧͎̫̘̭̯͖͋̿̌̌͊̎̓̕͜į̶̥̲̬̩̘̱̰̻̰̖̿̔̒̔̏̒̽̾͘̚͝g̷̲̙̠͕̙͙̥̜͈̝͆̿̈́̑̄̔͐͘͠

 

[Darth Vinaze]

The Prophet of the Sith'ari's return to the galaxy had been marked by strange tides. His forced exile to the depths of the Netherworld had felt to him much longer than the three decades that had passed in real time, and even then upon his return he had discovered the ramifications of Darth Solipsis 's ritual on Tython were widespread. The dilation of time in realspace was significant, with some mortals having lived only a few years in the span of 30, often unbeknownst to them. Then there had been the planeshift, and the cosmic unbalancing of the companion galaxies, something he could not merely chalk up to coincidence. The Shatterpoint Ritual had not sundered the universe as intended but it had, without a doubt in Vinaze's mind, irreparably damaged spacetime.

Though Vinaze had always worked in the shadows behind the scenes, his quest to herald the Sith'ari had long ended. Solipsis had firmly established himself. The King had been made and the Kingmaker had transitioned his role, away from that of a spiritual advisor into a spiritual enforcer, a spymaster, ringleader of fanatic religious assassins. Yet even deeper in the shadows, the Sith Sorceror turned his attention to pursuits from before he had joined the Brotherhood of the Maw all those years ago.

Ambitious Sith sciences, the manipulation of the midichlorians, of life itself, twisting mortality into a horrible shadow of its former self. He had returned to find Exegol, his adopted home where had learned such arts, destroyed at the hands of the Jedi once and for all. So too had his research complex on Tash-Taral been long since ransacked by the Jedi Lords. But it had not taken long to discover that all was not lost, for in their thirst for knowledge there were Ashlan Crusaders corrupted by his maleficarum. They had betrayed the Ashla for the Bogan and used his research for their own ends. But they were weak enough to fall to the Dark Side, and they were weak enough to be bent into his service when he returned.

The fallen Jedi revealed to Vinaze the apple of their eye, the end of their research. Not the creation of Sithspawn, but a source from which they could be drawn, horrors from a realm beyond that already existed, and need only to be tamed, unleashed. These monsters were descended from the Left-Handed God himself, Typhojem, the father of monsters in Sith myth. Twas a name seldom spoken, and such it surprised Vinaze that the fallen Jedi knew of the name, let alone equating the god of The Touched with him.

But their trail was clear and well walked, for the Ashlans had consorted with The Touched for years. It all led back to a name and a place that Vinaze had long forgotten. Celeste Demici was merely an adopted name for the creature, who had once upon time been like Vinaze, a spirit of the Dark Force. He had encountered her many years ago, though the truth of her planet was unknown to him at the time, and now Vinaze had traded his ethereal nature as a spirit to return to life in a mortal corpse once again. He could not enter the Netherworld himself to discern if it was simply a pocket dimension that they intended to enter, or if it was something else entirely. In his own journeys deep in the Netherworld, the true nature of Typhojem had eluded him. Thus he found himself reliant on the ritual the fallen Jedi had spent years devising.

Their calculations were correct it seemed, their research of Wgah'ngal and its people thorough. Eyewitness accounts and ancient religious rites passed down in oral tradition, translated from their twisted tongue for the first time. And it would all culminate in the heart of the galaxy.

To walk through the halls of the Jedi Temple brought a feeling of great triumph to Vinaze, as his cloaked form glided silently towards the ritual chamber. It was perfect to be performing in here, of all places. The Force was wounded in this place, the pinnacle of the Light wholly enclosed in darkness, captured, perverted by the Dark Side. The veil between this world and the next has been thinned to the point where the Sith Lord swore he could catch glimpses of the Netherworld if he cocked his head just right, and he could hear the screams of the Jedi who had been slain to make all of this possible, each an echo in the Force.

Vinaze entered the ritual chambers to find everything prepared by the Church's underlings. They did not dare to look him in the eyes, but if they did on this occasion they might have found an expression of pride.

He wondered who might arrive, given the nature of the event. The Emperors Elite were much more focused on the hunting of Jedi across the stars, and the New Sith Order itself had dwindled in size, but the call had been put out to all in service of the Emperor that could bend the Force to their will, regardless of creed. In Vinaze's mind, any who would join them and live to tell the tale was a vindication of the strength of the Sith.

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

WHISPERS OF MADNESS
I

​

The Imperial Palace,
Coruscant, Galactic Deep Core (903 ABY)

'We good?'
'Not at all, Great Khan.... Not here - this planet is trouble.'
'Worry not, Imbuement is permitted. Just remember, some of those shadows could be attendees.'​

The Khan could feel it already, the maddening sense that the very fabric of reality itself was taut, already threatening to tear itself asunder at a moment's notice, he had experienced such nights on more occasions than anyone of the Bloodhound's ilk were comfortable admitting. Even casting a knowing, urgent glance of apprehension, an honest showing of his own to avert any potential doubts in the minds of his subordinates, as there would be many more who knew the disconcerting truth; it would not take much to tear a breach in Realspace on Coruscant, and certainly not at the gathering within the Imperial Palace itself, to which the invite had been by a kindred dreamer of the Great Sith'ari's return.

Accompanied by kindred in resurrection, to a site of her specific choosing.

The birthname was not known to the Bloodhound, but when he had heard Celeste Demici 's surname, it was then that the one-eyed Woad began to pay more attention, and this was only in the first, rumoured whiff of the gathering he would go on to attend. Darth Vinaze , however, would require no such introduction, and when the Bloodhound noticed his presence, (and on approach to the ritual site at that-) the prior acceptance of the invite seemed all the less insane in hindsight. But when he finally entered the ritual site, Thomas would find himself amazed to see his daughter there, but in seeing Seer'aa Barran there with Y'sanne Stradd, he would smile in realisation that his daughter was right to be here.

'Greetings from the Mawsworn, everyone.... I assume we all know why we came to our realm's ultimate seat of power.'

​

Cracking his knuckles, Barran spared a proud smile for his daughter for a moment, (and a nod of appreciation to her powerful mentor) then turned to the plan's architects before he continued,'I mean - can you not feel it? Seems as though we need little more than a nudge to tear a breach in Realspace here.', trailing off to pull his eyepatch away from his face for the task ahead. The carved, eye-shaped ruby in his right eye-socket had a purpose in matters of ritualistic concern, and on this night of nights, lighting the ruby in a red glow with whispered incantations as his index and middle fingers pressed against it, the Khan knew he would need it.

'So, whats the plan?'

 

[Voldran Molf]

Information and Tag

Shadow Lord, Prince of Nightmare, Dream Lord​

"Galactic Basic" | <"Mandalorian"> | ["Úr-kittat"] | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >>​

Objective: Exploring the other world.
Location: Imperial Palace, Coruscant
Equipment: Armour | Sword || OPBC-01m
Tags: Darth Vinaze | St. Thomas Barran | Opwn

Voldran had remained in the capital even after the events on Arkania. In the aftermath of the demon's rampage upon that world, and once his pain had subsided enough for him to regain control of his own body, he had managed to keep himself within the shadows without tumbling fully into darkness. It had not been an easy feat, for Corazona von Ascania 's memory haunted him with relentless guilt. He had no way of knowing whether the girl had survived their encounter, nor what horrors the demon might have inflicted upon her.

He could only cling to hope that she had survived the wounds the demon had so deliberately dealt her. As for Voldran himself, he had never wished her harm. Since regaining his autonomy, he had attempted time and again to find her - through dreams, through the meditative plane - yet without success. He possessed nothing to offer her, nothing that could guide him to her side. And so, for now, he did not know if she lived… but he refused to relinquish hope.

One thing had changed since Arkania; he had grown more arrogant. His tone remained outwardly polite, but his words, his posture, and the subtle gestures of his body all carried that edge of pride, particularly when speaking to common soldiers. The signs had always been there; he was a nobleman, after all. Yet now it was more pronounced. Perhaps it stemmed from impatience, or a hunger for quicker progress. Perhaps it was the influence of the second rune. The cause was uncertain.

When he had received the summons regarding this mission, hope stirred anew within him; the fragile hope of freedom. A different dimension. A different plane. In such places lay the greatest chance for Voldran. Or so he dared to believe. Worlds like these were far removed from Realspace; perhaps there, the Force's grip - or the knowledge of the Sith - would hold less sway. A place beyond even his mother's reach.

The marble and steel floors of the former Jedi Temple - now the Emperor's palace - echoed beneath the man's armoured boots as he made his way towards the grand hall above the Nexus. It was here they had once unleashed the Nexus's dark energy, when the planet had come under siege. Then, he had been forced to creep through vents and service tunnels. Now, he strode openly through the corridors, no longer an infiltrator, but a guest.

He stepped into the hall just as the Khan inquired about their next steps. Fortunately, Voldran had already familiarised himself with the procedure, and so he spoke without hesitation.

"Ladies and gentlemen! First, with the ritual I have outlined, we shall open a Rift to the Force plane, and cross over to conduct reconnaissance." His voice was as unfailingly polite as ever as he addressed the others. "Once all have arrived, we may begin."

 

[Seer'aa Barran]

Information

Daughter of the Mawite Khan, Heathen Priestess Novice, Dark Side Elie Apprentice​

"Galactic Common" | <"ur-Kittat"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Objective: Exploring the other world
Location: Imperial Castle, Coruscant
Equipment: Attire || OPBC-01m
Tags: St. Thomas Barran | Darth Vinaze | Open

Seer'aa was excited about this task, even though she knew that her mentor, Y'sanne, would not be joining them, only accompanying them to Coruscant. The young priestess novice had never been in such an illustrious environment before, not least because of her young age. During her religious education, she had already heard of such matters as the one that had arisen here, and she also knew that there were other planes and dimensions; not to mention the Netherworld, the Otherworld, and places of similar nature.

When they arrived at the Hall of the Nexus, the girl could not quite understand why she was there. She did not possess such great power as to take part in any ritual. That is to say, perhaps she had the strength within her, but she was still only at the level of a learner, and there was much she did not yet know of the Force much that she had not even studied yet, because of her age. She still had many years ahead of her to learn and to further her training. She would very much have liked to ask whether they were certain she should be there, but she did not wish to question anyone.

Nor did she wish to undermine anyone's authority, or cast doubt upon the decisions that had been made. So instead the girl merely kept quiet and watched the adults. When they entered, her father immediately posed a question, to which an answer quickly came from one of those already present. To open the portal or a rift and to cross into the other place, to explore it. What might lie there? The girl knew quite a lot about the Netherworld, since that realm had become well-known, if only because of Omni, but this was an unknown dimension.

"Is there any way to know what we should expect on the other side? Other than that there might be eldritch creatures there?" she finally asked them.

She was curious as to what she should prepare for; the girl did not worry about the possibility of combat, for as the daughter of the Khan and a member of the Scar Hounds Tribe, she had received martial training in addition to her priestess instruction. Yet, even so, she wished to know what to expect. For now, she did not know how much she would be able to aid in the ritual, as she had never taken part in such a thing before, but she resolved to do her best nonetheless.

Until then, she waited in silence, until someone told her what she ought to do. Surrounded by so many influential and powerful Force users, the girl wanted to perform as well as she possibly could.

 

[Tohu]

Wrong account smh

 

[Kann]

Head bowed, back slightly hunched, Kaan scurried inside the chamber as if chased by his own shadow.

He said, "My apologies for the tardiness." His callous hands retrieved a piece of cloth from inside the ceramic plates around his abdomen. Neatly unfolding the fabric, the artificer produced a dagger. Within its hilt, a blue light danced, housed within what a few would recognize as a Force-drive's motivator; an ancient, Rakatan technology, fused with the intricate workings of Sith alchemy, had created a tool capable of rending the space-time continuum.

Kaan stared at it for a long moment, pride gleaming in his eyes concealed beneath the featureless mask.

He offered it to Molf, "Lord Molf, you, as the rest of the gathered, will need to channel the Force into this blade." Kaan said, "Your minds must be tuned, solely focused on this Great Beyond lest you intend to unleash great consequences."​

 

[Darth Vinaze]

St. Thomas Barran / Seer'aa Barran / Voldran Molf / Kann​

The assembled were an eclectic group, faces Vinaze did not have much to say of. The new Empire had brought new people to power. He understood that Molf was a chosen of the Emperor, which extended a degree of trust immediately from Vinaze to him. Not to mention how the man reminded him of himself as a youth. The pale skin, the white hair, the unwitting corruption of the body by Sith alchemy. Unfortunately for Vinaze, what Halketh had subjected him to years ago had not left him looking so fine and hale.

The face he did know was the Khan of the Mawites. It was unsurprising to find him in attendance. After all, he and Vinaze had shared a similar experience as denizens of the world beyond, survivors of the torture of undeath. For all they had been through it had made them stronger, and Vinaze was actually eager to see where this ritual might lead them, including the possibility that he would be returning to the Netherworld of the Force in a mortal body.

'I mean - can you not feel it? Seems as though we need little more than a nudge to tear a breach in Realspace here.'

"You would be correct. The great amount of death that these halls have witnessed has weakened the Force, or strengthened it, depending on how you look at it. In either measure, its malleability has become very useful to our ends." he replied to the elder Barran before turning to his daughter.

"Is there any way to know what we should expect on the other side? Other than that there might be eldritch creatures there?"

"I suspect it will not merely be the creatures that are eldritch, for any environment that produces such must naturally be as alien and sinister as that which it produces. Uncontrolled, the Dark Side of the Force is like a cancer, but in the absence of living cells to corrupt, the darkness is capable of... self-replication. But that which it creates, young Barran, is unfit to live long in this world on its own. They eschew biological law, incapable of eating, sleeping, or reproducing. Imagine a world in which these things are non-issues and you might imagine a world of extreme chaos and violence, where survival is dictated by sheer power in the Force and little else."

With the arrival of the masked man and the instrument of their plan, Vinaze imagined the world they would be soon entering. In truth, he expected it to be much stranger than words could explain to the Mawites.

As Kann handed the dagger over to Voldran, Vinaze stepped closer to observe the blade.

"Such fine craftsmanship, and not merely a weapon but a focus. Smart." his eyes looked over the fine etchings of runic Ur-Kittat on the blade.

He cocked his head back to Seer'aa, "Our friend here has taken a great precaution for us. Though you would do well to worry about things that await us, you will find yourself in a greater disadvantage if your mind is lost in the transition between realms."

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

WHISPERS OF MADNESS
II

​

The Imperial Palace,
Coruscant, Galactic Deep Core (903 ABY)

'He tells it true, Seer'aa.... Many realms await beyond the Rift, an' nearly all retain their own slice of horror.'
​

As a parent, the Khan's greatest natural fear was that his children would be rejected by the culture, to see them struggling to fit in among their respective peers, especially with the youngest of his progeny. But after bearing witness, observing with his one-remaining eye, as mentor and peer alike were seen requiring, even welcoming her presence, the last familial concern of the sort was swept away. Like a calm, summer tide had carried the last piece of deadwood to sea, this small moment would rid St. Thomas of every other roadback to serene calm, that which would be needed to contribute in the impending collective endeavour; and with that, the Khan found his self-permission to give it all for his daughter's sake, to chance revealing his most-monstrous self for the sake of a promise to Spindly Khatan.

They're our legacy, achieved threefold - but losing just one undoes it all.

​

'The Rift, however.... Well, lets just say its a beast of an entirely-greater magnitude. But thanks to our acquaintances here, we may yet present a strong collective presence, an' great enough, perhaps, that it wards off the things that threaten souls between dimensions.'

As far as dangers went, the Khan knew that walking the Rift was not his brightest idea, as it had taken the efforts of Avatars and Wraiths alike to bring him out the other way, out from similar depths to those into which the small crowd just so happened to be delving, on that night of nights. They were doing what many Sith still avoided, and in doing so without reservation, many would still consider their endeavour an insane venture, especially if the careful majority were to learn it was driven by recreational, academic curiosity. However, the right amount of curious, powerful minds had gathered, with another, besides St. Thomas, who was resurrected and dragged out from the rift, as the Khan, himself was, in the latter months of 873 ABY.

'We all have our methods, granted, but we all have this one thing in common here - it all boils down to belief.... That assured faith in the great,"I am", and with imbued weapons of every sort close by, you'll have anchors there to aid with the process of grounding your mind in that belief.'

 

[Voldran Molf]

Information and Tag

Shadow Lord, Prince of Nightmare, Dream Lord​

"Galactic Basic" | <"Mandalorian"> | ["Úr-kittat"] | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >>​

Objective: Exploring the other world.
Location: Imperial Palace, Coruscant
Equipment: Armour | Sword || OPBC-01m

Tags:
Darth Vinaze | St. Thomas Barran | Open​

In the end, other Acolytes and Sith also arrived - those affiliated with the Church of the Dark Side and the New Sith Order - to assist in opening the gateway. Once the required number of participants was present, one of the historians projected a holographic display of the ritual’s sequence, along with the runes and ancient words that needed to be spoken. These were not Sith words, but part of the Dark Language, making them somewhat more complex due to their heavy use of consonants.

Before beginning, everyone had the chance to read and practise their pronunciation, ensuring that no one would disrupt the chanting mid-ritual, a mistake that, according to the leader of the religious historians, could lead to rather unpleasant consequences. Once all preparations were complete, the ceremony began. Voldran was among the first to start the chanting, soon joined by those who had arrived to assist in opening the rift. Y’sanne Stradd also aided in the process, though she had no intention of crossing over; while the others could choose whether or not to contribute.

If all lent their power, the ritual progressed smoothly and swiftly; if not, it was slower, but at last, a small, faint tear appeared in the fabric of reality. As the chanting continued, the tear began to widen both vertically and horizontally, revealing more and more of the other side. By the time the ritual concluded, a rift roughly two by two metres had formed, large enough for one to see and even pass through to the other side.

On that plane, the colours of red and black dominated. A swamp-like landscape spread beyond, under a dim light that might have been a sun or a moon or something else entirely. The waters appeared more like blood than water, deep crimson in hue. Dead, withered trees rose from the mire, their roots tangled in thorny vines that looked equally lifeless. In the distance, the faint silhouette of a castle or fortress could be seen, surrounded by what seemed to be the ruins of other structures though all of it lay far, far away.

The sky itself was red and black, and from the clouds above, massive tendrils stretched down towards the ground; unmistakably alive. Scarlet lightning occasionally tore through the heavens, though no rain fell, and no sound crossed the veil from that realm. Apart from the tentacles above and the distant structures, there was no sign of life visible from the Realspace side; the entire scene felt utterly alien and deeply unsettling.

At last, Voldran spoke, his voice calm yet resolute as he slid his helmet into place and drew his blade.

"Let’s move. We must scout the area." he said to the others; and then, without hesitation, stepped through the rift first.

 

[Darth Vinaze]

St. Thomas Barran / Seer'aa Barran / Kann​

The dread ritual was performed, the tear in the fabric of reality grew, and for the first time, Vinaze stepped through into the far realms of the Force as a mortal. As he crossed the threshold his mind was assaulted by the energies of the place, swirling voices in the back of his mind, subconscious fears brought to life... but as he had always done he reminded himself these things were no object. His measured breathing, his willful stride into the horror landscape, the onlookers would never realize what he wrestled with. Of course, it was even more likely that they too experienced an altered mental state entering this world. Vinaze has trained himself for years to resist the powers of such a place, his deep meditations staring out to the places beyond the stars, embracing the void... and of course, he had lived in the Netherworld of the Force as a spirit, before his glorious return to mortality.

As he felt his weight in this place, the unfamiliarity of that alone enough to put him on edge, he began to walk forward, trudging through the blood-water and mud. When he was a denizen of places like this, he had not had to rely on mortal motor skills. He suspected that few things in this realm did.

He gazed off at the horizon, curious about the structures in the distance. He knew there were deep realms of the Force where spirit denizens built dwellings that reflected those of mortals, in some macabre memory of a distant life. Yet also, he knew, that the eyes could deceive. He did not voice his thoughts to his companions, unsure if they were even seeing the same visual experience as he was. It was very likely all of this was an illusion, meant to draw them in deeper out of curiosity, or ward them away with fear. He suspected anyone who had stepped through the ritual portal had put aside their fears at this point.

The tendrils of some gargantuan creature writhed in the sky above them, but did not seem hostile. Rather, whatever the entity in this place was did not care for a handful of mortal intruders, like a man does not worry when a few ants have entered his domicile...

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

Darth Vinaze Voldran Molf Kann

WHISPERS OF MADNESS
III

​

Undulation Valley,
Wgah'nagl, Beyond the Veil of Realspace (903 ABY)

"Let’s move. We must scout the area."
'Copy that.'
​

Even in their passing through the Rift, the one-eyed Woad could feel that insanity cloying at his mind, and to such an extreme that even the Wraith within could feel it cloying at his own, passing comment multiple times to that effect. Like he was running through the tunnels between life and death, all over again, raising two heartbeats as one; but after the Rift opened to this world that was unknown to the Nether of Barran's recollection, the Khan soon began to remember his resurrection desperations in greater detail, even recalling the sheer scale of the tunnels he found during his manic ascent toward Realspace.

Wondering why such gargantuan tunnels were needed at the time, as intriguing as it was back then, could never escape compartmentalised repression under such conditions, especially with his reanimation amnesia considered. The only thing capable of shifting such clouds on the mind, and as strange as it seemed, was the all-encompassing monster in the distant clouds above, thinking then that those towering alternate passages were designed for titans of that celestial ilk. A frightening thought (if ever such thoughts could be off-putting for Barran's ilk-) to consider that such pathways could be carved out with such beings in mind, though the Khan soon found himself feeling gladdened of the monster's resting air of indifference.

Put it back, Thomas.... Back where you left it forgotten.
This thinking is dangerous, for both of us.
​

Barran then turned toward his fellow, resurrected Saint, weighing his words as he pondered on the things Vinaze had seen in his first return to Realspace, but then came questions of similar nature; invading his thoughts with an abundant wave to the frontal lobe. Thinking then that different passages could be mentioned, that he was verging on discovering entirely different trails between plains of existence, further-troubling the old Woad in his mind, as it was becoming increasingly likely that his own resurrection was ordained by an entity of celestial, primordial beginnings. Unable to avoid conjurations of a massive, horrifying entity in the mind, St. Thomas then imagined it to be large enough to need tunnels of the sort someday, and regardless of when that cursed future was likely to transpire, it was enough to frighten the Khan to adrenal, hand-trembling extreme.

'When we make it back, we'll need to have a chat about this.... About all o' this.'