The Abyss

[Osthryd]

Undisclosed Location,
Bastion

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sn5xqkr5t5M​

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The wheels of fate have spun, and destiny has shown its truest intentions for some individuals. Some walk a path of uncertainty and seek purpose, but one does not decide fate themselves, it seems. It is a hunter of merciless accord, ensnaring even the most dedicated and devoted. The steely resolve of the most pure cannot alter what was meant to be. No matter their determination.​

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Even if it is a poison, one must suffer the ailments.​

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Suffering is what fate chose for Osthryd, once a man with an incorruptible heart. ​

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Death lingered upon his every breath, teeth corroded by foul shadow. His humanity mostly eaten away by the beast he had become, a husk.​

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A cruel imitation of valor, of chivalry. ​

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Of himself.​

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Inside of a poorly lit cell, a shadow stood. In eerie silence, its right arm twitched slightly as it let out a dreadful, mournful groan. Outside of the durasteel prison, silence clung to every inch of a narrow corridor as dying overhead lighting fixtures flickered in and out of life. Much like Osthryd's grasp on humanity, which was withering away each and every day that passed.​

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An unnatural shift in the shadow-ridden, former knight's body caused deep pain. Everything that Osthryd was, he could feel being ripped away and gnawed upon by the teeth of his disease. Whispers and torment from the past echoed inside his mind, reminding the broken creature of its failure.​

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A hateful, distorted scream pierced through the cell walls. Darkness was beginning to seep into every crevice of the cell, the sorrow of the damned reaching beyond its confinement.​

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Osthryd wanted out.​

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[member="Krest"] | [member="Naelarus the Condemned"] | [member="Drios Rapux"]

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[Naelarus the Condemned]

"Hush now... sweet knight." A soft, sorrowful voice broke the silence following Osthryd's violent cry of anguish. Shortly after, quiet footsteps echoed as the woman known as Naelarus entered the corridor holding the cell of her companion. Today she was donned in a light tunic, having left her weapons and armor for now. She didn't need them to visit her dear friend, whatever was left of him that was at any rate. She smiled lightly, weakly, as she approached the cage with the food to help Osthryd survive.

She knelt down by the cage and opened the small feed-hole, sliding a tray of basic rations inside for him. "Osthryd, it's time to eat. You need to keep up your strength, alright?" Of course there was a gentle calm to her voice, she held no fear of the remnants of the once great Shadowtreader. He hissed and snarled no doubt, but under it all she could still sense some part of him, and she was sure he felt the same. Or at least, he never harmed her, and seemed regretful when he lashed at her. Though perhaps it was all imagination... there was much she tried to cling to in order to make the days pass by more easily.

[member="Krest"] | [member="Drios Rapux"] | [member="Osthryd"]

 

[Osthryd]

The footfalls - another presence. This one felt all too familiar, a woman's voice to soothe the beast. But whom? The shadow crept close to the cell door, peering out with a void for eyes or a face. Osthryd's appearance was a ragged, torn cloak mingling with twisted and blackened armor. A slender, almost feminine shape took over the creature's demeanor as it stared daggers into the person on the other side of the gate.

"...I...hrrrrrrgh..."

Another pained scream ripped itself from Osthryd as he slammed his right gauntlet into the cell's door. He remembered who this woman was, but soon the memories became fleeting and vague. The monstrosity calmed, and the rations were snatched away.

All that [member="Naelarus the Condemned"] would get to witness was a broken man - a man no longer.

After the fallen knight had devoured its rations, it stood upright after being in an unnatural position on all-fours. Its head twitched slightly, as did its right shoulder.

The shadow stood all by its lonesome, breathing softly as it pondered nothingness. Consumed by the abyssal dark of its corruption.

[member="Naelarus the Condemned"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Drios Rapux"]

 

[Darth Sibilus]

A demonic groan echoed around the stone dungeon, deep below the surface of the Sith-controlled planet of Bastion, completely archaic in design bar the durasteel cell situated in the centre of the prison. Moss and other low-light flora had long since taken over a large portion of the walls, choking the life out of the stone until in some places it had began to crack, with great fissures running great lengths along the walls.

The Epicanthix was void of weapons, and his boots made no sound as they travelled upon the cold, neglected floor. The sounds of the Sithspawn certainly did frighten him, to an extent, fear is nothing to be ashamed of when the subject you are fearing would gladly rip you into a million pieces. Yet fear must be contained, and Drios was doing just that - no outward signs of his discomfort were betraying him, apart from his slight recoil once he saw a woman crouching next to the cage of the spawn.

His blue eyes studied the bizarre scene for a few moments, and disgust welled up within him as the woman seemed infatuated with the beast. She seemed unfazed by his appearance, unfazed by the twitching and the likeness the spawn held to a living corpse.

Finally he stepped out of the shadows, and into a slightly more illuminated portion of the dungeon, allowing a few moments for the two other people in the room to notice his presence before he announced it verbally. "Charming." was all he said, for Drios was a man of few words, and only used the full extent of his vocabulary when required.

[member="Osthryd "][member="Naelarus the Condemned"]

 

[Naelarus the Condemned]

She sensed him before he spoke, and willfully chose to ignore him until he would speak. He saw fit to wait to interact, and thus she couldn't see use in conversing herself. So instead she opted to continue a small smile to Osthryd, letting him see her comfort around him, even in the darkness that was filling his existence. It wouldn't be until the, odd, choice of word from Drios that she would even half glance back at him. A strange thing, taller than most humans, towering over her in fact. Yet she didn't flinch or indicate any sense of fear.

Perhaps she was foolish not to be afraid. Perhaps she didn't care... she'd seen beasts when her homeland was razed, she'd killed them herself. This one felt no different, and so she hardly felt concern as she spoke back to him. "More so than you, yes." The tunic-clad woman slowly motioned to Os to stay calm, and turned to face the man. "Welcome to the home of Osthryd the Shadowtreader, by what business are you here?"


[member="Krest"] | [member="Drios Rapux"] | [member="Osthryd"]

 

[Osthryd]

Another? Yes, another presence had entered the fallen knight's prison. Inhaling the stagnant air, Osthryd could taste the scent of another endowed with the Force. This one was hardly any different than the ones that had slaughtered his people, the ones that destroyed his and [member="Naelarus the Condemned"]'s home planet. The fallen champion caressed a nearby wall, his gauntlet scarping against the stone before he fell completely silent in his movements.

As soon as the stranger revealed himself, Osthryd charged at the cell door, throwing his full weight and inhumane strength into the durasteel. A deep depression formed, the hinges around the gate becoming lax and fragile as the Sithspawn picked itself up to charge again. This time, the gate was ripped open and loosely hung from the corners of the archway it was set in.

Being only a couple feet away from his comrade, the darkly clad escapee stared at her for a moment before turning his attention to [member="Drios Rapux"].

A low growl escaped the twisted maw of the knight's helmet, no facial features or even the glint of eyes were available to offer the familiarity of anything remotely human. Osthryd's left arm hung lifelessly as he cracked his neck and straightened his posture upright.

"...My blade....I want it...now..."

Should it be to the surprise of those present, Osthryd appeared much more sentient than what he displayed earlier.

His breathing ragged, his voice not of this realm.

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Your blade? You own nothing." From same place [member="Drios Rapux"] had came from another voice echoed into the chamber. The elder Zabrak would step out into the light of the room with a blade in hand, [member="Osthryd "]'s blade to be exact, staring directly at the large Sithspawn. "You are nothing." Eyes filled with malice glanced over Os's broken form, this lips a thin line on his face.

"Drios, why have you come here?" The Lord would address [member="Drios Rapux"] without once glancing his way. These two, Osthryd and [member="Naelarus the Condemned"] , were his project, and he was genuinely curious as to why Rapux had shown up.

 

[Darth Sibilus]

Surprise slapped Drios across the face like a giant hand, causing him to raise his hands instinctively in an offensive position, palms outstretched and ready to unleash a telekinetic attack on the Sithspawn, forcing him back into the cell it had broken out of. Only the Force Signature of Krest, which he felt before the Zabrak had spoken, halted him and forced his hands to lower down to his sides. A small smile curled across his face as the Lord addressed the Sithspawn, which quickly disappeared when Krest turned his attention to him. "With no disrespect, my Lord, how can you expect me to learn about the horrors the Dark Side can inflict from a datapad or a book? Curiosity led me to this place, and I do not intend to leave it. Unless that is your will, of course." Drios spoke, turning his head to face the red-skinned warrior with a slight hint of annoyance in his voice in his final sentence, for he had no desire to leave the small dungeon at all.

Diverting his attention from Krest, he began to study [member="Osthryd "]more closely, and came to the conclusion that the creature was less animalistic than before, and now more of a humanoid. Slowly, the fear he had initially felt for him turned into some form of disgust, and perhaps pity at the Sithspawn's condition. He longed to put it out of it's misery, but not in the spawn's interests, maybe some part of him had actually begun to enjoy killing other creatures?

[member="Krest"] [member="Osthryd "][member="Naelarus the Condemned"]

 

[Naelarus the Condemned]

"Calm, @Osthryd. Now is not the time." The human warrior turned slightly, placing her hand on the metal armor covering Osthryd's chest, in an effort to use her connection to him to calm him. Though her proof of loyalty was a single chip somewhere in her body, a slave chip really, to 'encourage' her continued service, she had a unique connection to the sithspawn next to her. She didn't respond to [member="Krest"] and his arrival at first, though hardly out of any malice or distaste.

Contrary, she held much respect for the Sith that had slaughtered her people. Though she hated him, and would relish the chance to end his life for his crimes, a fact they both knew well enough, she held the respect a warrior would for another. His swordsmanship had been what finally ended her defense of the tunnels, where others had failed, and she had respect for a warrior who was able to win in a disadvantageous situation. He'd lost some when he twisted Osthryd into this, mockery of his former self, but it was hard to deny his skill.

She slowly turned to face him, and by extent [member="Drios Rapux"], offering the Lord a half bow. "... My Lord. May I ask for what purpose you have visited your servants' humble abode?"

 

[Osthryd]

All that Osthryd could do was snarl and ponder upon his own distaste for the man clutching his blade. How far the knight had fallen, his spirit engulfed in pure hatred. Noticing the hand upon his chest, the Sithspawn calmed his uproar to a mere growl, having not the ability to confront either of the two Sith standing before the damned champion and his comrade.

"...Your victory over me is not the end... I am still very much endowed with perspective, and from my own eyes, all I can perceive is cowardice for what you fear you cannot control..."

Osthryd turned to look back at his broken cage, feeling somewhat proud of his escape. But he knew that this would end in consequence. Of what kind was not certain, but it would most certainly not be death.

These warriors that were fueled by the downfall of others, they needed him.

He was, after all, something they manipulated and birthed to suit their needs of spilling blood.

But first... the sword.

[member="Naelarus the Condemned"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Drios Rapux"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest would laugh, then toss [member="Osthryd "]the sword. "Come, monster. You say I can't control you. So go on. Take your sword and strike me down. Do so, and you're free." The Zabrak's hand would fall down to his side after he let the sword go, and it would seem as if he was relaxed. Overconfidence would ooze from his posture, yet the Force would sing a different tune to those who would listen.

There was danger in the Sith's offer, and as his red eyes narrowed it would be clear he was waiting for the beast to attack.

[member="Drios Rapux"] [member="Naelarus the Condemned"]

 

[Darth Sibilus]

Drios would have liked nothing more for [member="Osthryd "]to spring at [member="Krest"], ripping him limb from limb and spitting out his bones onto the harsh floor of the dungeon. Either that, or Drios personally slaying him, however the latter would only end in the Epicanthix's head on a stake. The Zabrak had humiliated him in their first engagement, stealing back the advantage Drios has gained and leaving him cowering on the floor.

Despite the violent urges, Drios would remain silent, an unholy spectre watching the show unfolding before him. He would have his moment, another day on another hour when maybe, just maybe his powers would rival and exceed the Sith Lord beside him.

Eventually, his attention was once again on the Sithspawn, bearing no heed to the woman who appeared infatuated with it. He continued to ponder on it's purpose, for at the moment it resembled only a hulking bulk of darkness, hatred and evil. Perhaps he could be moulded into something useful, or perhaps he would be discarded to the pages of history.

[member="Naelarus the Condemned"]

 

[Naelarus the Condemned]

Naelarus sighed as Lord [member="Krest"] tossed [member="Osthryd "]his blade. She knew full well the capabilities of her friend, in life and in this new form, and without her he'd have died many times over. He was brave, strong, but would challenge anyone, everything, at once. In many ways he was commendable, but here it would only spell pain. So she did the only sensible thing she could do, to spare her friend more pain. She easily walked past the group, to where what little she had left of her own possessions were, knowing Osthryd would likely take a moment to consider where first to strike. She had precious seconds, and she could not afford to waste them. She scanned her old belongings, tossed into the dungeon like trash, and noted that among them rested her own blade, not the one she wielded against the sith but one she had been instructed to make. Curious, had Krest...

No, why would he? She shrugged, picking up the greatsword in its engraved sheath, and made her way back. "Osthryd, stop. Consider your choices, it is not the time nor the place for hostilities." Now holding the weapon, even sheathed, she began to appear more visibly threatening. More capable than her frame appeared. If [member="Drios Rapux"] paid close attention, as she thumbed the blade ever so slightly out of its sheath, he would be able to detect the sense of loss the blade emanated, echoing her own. Krest most certainly felt it, and something more. Even if it was at threat of death, she was honor bound to protect her master.

Even if it was against Osthryd, in a blind fit of rage.