Via Dolorosa
Amans In Tenebris
The Necro-Witch, and numerous names she answered to, had strolled through the skeletons of the galaxy looking for that proper Apprentice. To date, she had killed them all, not because she grew tiresome of them, but because her unadulterated need to feel pain, or express it, was more than the simpleton could withstand.
Minds....she broke them!
Bodies she thrashed upon the shores.....and religiously wore their bones upon her person!
Flesh....it tasted awful the fist time....but like all bad habits, one learns to deal with those atrocities!
She was Sith, but even those that dared walk in her shadow understood one true mantra, she wasn't just a killer....but a eater of worlds....and on occasion, flesh. To call her a murder, was like calling the suns the harbinger of warmth, for this Dagobah Sith, the concept of warmth meant only one thing; you lost the battle of supremacy and she put you to spit, rolling and cooking you for her daughters, Andarta and Agrona
Life, or the defunct understanding of it, was lost on her. She could raise the dead, in so many ways, but when she died, who would raise her? Or perhaps the thought of death was just a misconception of holistic beliefs, because when, or if, she died, she had sealed pacts among the Sith Lords to transfer her essence into a less horrible version she now haunted the galaxy with.
Yet, even with her potential immortality, she needed one to teach what she knew. Most Sith, if not all, wanted to live death through their teachings; but she, unlike her sisters and brothers, wanted to live through her Apprentices....and if their bodies provided proper accomadations; she would take them; and haunt the galaxy for all eternity.
[member="Lord Sin"]