The Lord of Hate [Training Thread 2 (Solo)]

[Darth Voyance]

LORDS OF THE SITH​

Part 2: the Lord of Hate​

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KORRIBAN
VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS
TOMBS OF THE OLD MASTERS

Pythia stood beneath the long shadow of an obelisk. She was abandoned. Her dark master, the Dark Lord of the Sith [member="Darth Carnifex"], had left her to be alone in the Valley of the Dark Lords as a twisted reward for surviving their previous excursion into the tomb of Lady Sith Vilia Calimondra. He had commanded her to remain and discover the other listens the old Sith Lords could teach her. It was his wish that she would discover and learn on her own, to carve her own passions and ambitions.

"Bath in the powers of the Dark Lords of old." Pythia recalled her master say, "Should they accept you." What he meant by the last cryptic guidance, Pythia did not know. Had she been accepted by the dark side? She had readily thrown herself to the will of her master, to the will of the order and powers her ruled over as Dark Lord. But, yet - yet something felt missing. Her own power was growing and she was becoming versed in the Force that birthed her empathic and prophetic powers. However, Pythia still addressed herself and interpreted the Sith like a slave, a servant. She was incomplete and her dark prowess stifled by the remnants of the frightened and superstitious obedient dancer she once was back in the slave bazaars of Ventooine. Perhaps this, impurity, was what her master had referred to when discussing the Dark Side's acceptance of her.

Standing beneath the obelisk, Pythia looked towards its cracked and pallid surface. Old runes in the Sith language that once adorned its stone form had been blasted into smooth shallow grooves. Above the sun waved in the shifting hot winds like a golden ghost. Pythia looked back down to the sand that slithered between her legs animated by the winds.

"This place is a dead one." Pythia reflected. "But, one that calls to me." It was the call of the dead. The darkness with her always bubbled and sung to her on this world. There was much more to see and learn. Pythia was hungry to see it all, to transform herself into something unrecognisable compared to what she once was. But, into what metamorphosis would she commit herself. What Sith would she become? Would she allow other forces to shape her? No, that would be another form of slavery. Although she adored her master's guidance and his freeing shadow, a shadow that destroyed her chains of slavery, she had to forge her own path.

She had to become her own Sith.

Passing the obelisk, Pythia wandered down the crooked red and orange gorge that the Valley of Dark Lords lay within. It was oddly busy for a graveyard of the greatest Dark Lords and Lords. The Sith Empire had returned in force and erected academies, archaeology centres and garrison structure along the tombs. Great steel strata of towers lined the gorge walls. The protruded from the orange and dark red rock and stuck out among the ancient scenery. It disturbed Pythia. What would the Dark Lords of old think seeing these minions wandering about as parasites peeling away at their aeons old power. She looked at them with suspicious and narrow looks. Slaves. Her mind hissed. Slaves scattering about in the skeletons of giants. I will not be one of them. Not again.

Acolytes and Knights, wandered past her and teams of scholars dressed in cloaks and combat gear commanded teams of labourers entering tombs. It felt perverse. But, perhaps that was the way of the Sith too. The Dark Lords after all were dead. And it was up to the strong to exploit their knowledge and powers mercilessly. She had done so with her master in the tomb of Calimondra. Passing beneath a bridge erected to connect to large twin look out towers Pythia found herself at the threshold of a base. It was a large cylindrical building jutting out from the base of a sheer cliff that sat in front of a massive tomb. Large and greater in size than that of Calimondra. Hordes of labourers, and military men darting about pushing repulsorlift crates in trollies and equipment, like mining lasers. If she was to discover more about the Dark Side and its ancient Dark Lords, why not study that of the Lord that erected the great monument that demanded this much attention. Coddling herself in her dark crimson robed cloak she approached the threshold beneath the bridge.

 

[Darth Voyance]

"You useless fools." muttered Vaalron. "How is it you lost contact with Team 3?" The Sith Inquisitor Knight Karkan Vaalron had been in charge of the Inquisition Research Team for three months now and still they had made paltry progress into the grand tomb of ancient Dark Lord Tulak Hord. Vaalron stood before his team, a gathering of Sith Acolytes and Troopers conscripted to act as his investigation teams sent to lurk deep within the uncharted corners of the tomb's bowels. Centuries ago the academy erected by Darth Revan and Malak had transacted the tomb, and centuries after that the Sith Empires of old searching for symbolic legitimacy ransacked it again and again.

And yet, when the Sith Empire renewed under the Dark Lord Carnifex had retaken Korriban, the Inquisition was quick to develop a program of properly mapping, cataloguing, and recovering what was left. Little was. The main sarcophagus had been opened and all of Tulak Hord's possession taken long ago. Yet, nearly a week ago strange occurrences had emerged. Cave ins that lead to new caverns and a force energy that radiated like a beating heart of darkness. It was ominous and oppressive, and it swallowed any who entered. Vaalron had already lost two teams, and now he lost a third in Team 3.

A Zabrak Acolyte pleaded with Vaalron, "We couldn't find them after they went to study the sub-levels that we discovered beneath the crypt antechamber." Vaalron rubbed his temples. His face was lean and pale with fiery golden eyes that cut deep with its glares. This sort of delay was intolerable, what was he to report to [member="Darth Saarai"]. He did not tolerate delay. At least not anymore that had already occurred. Vaalron wanted that sub-level fully mapped, and hopefully some sort of artefact remained for archival. Perhaps he could even display the artefact to Darth Saarai in person. Such a find would surely be rewarded with his ascendancy to Lordship. Vaalron frowned knowing such a eventuality was well off if he could not figure a way to keep his teams on a pressed schedule.

"It doesn't matter now." Vaalron waved the zabrak away. "Forget Team 3, I want you to take Team 4 and 5, bolster your trooper numbers and map that sub-level, bring back anything worth taking at once!"

The Zabrak hesitated for a moment, but, Vaalron held his gaze and nodded towards the tomb's entrance. "Do it!" Vaalron spat the words out between his clenched teeth, bemoaning the fact that Darth Saarai could not spare better conscripts that some weak willed acolytes and expendable troopers. The Zabrak flinched he turned and then reserved his own rage and fear at his teams ushering them into the tomb. As they passed, Vaalron hissed a venomous sigh and looked upwards at the behemoth monument he had been cursed to research.

The entrance itself was a towering stone facade of reliefs, statues, and carved scripture. The pyramid of the tomb towered above it fading in the blowing orange and red sands that mixed with Korriban's atmosphere. Blurring it behind an uniform opaque mist of rust colored hues. Vaalron narrowed his vision hoping he could sense its secrets but, such prowess was beyond him and he knew it. Diligent work and intelligence would see himself rise in the ranks. He didn't need to be some brute high off of the Dark Side - he would master the art of manipulation and use the bureaucracy of the empire to see himself elevated. A thin grin stretched across his face as he imagined sitting among the Inquisition's inner circle, even becoming Darth Saarai's equal - or better.

The things I could achieve with such...power. Snickered Vaalron.

​Unbeknown to Vaalron, Pythia had been nearby surveying the tomb herself. So busy was the inquisition operation there that they hadn't noticed the slim Twi'lek acolyte wander in. Unlike Vaalron, or the others, Pythia watched the tomb with profound awe and terror. For with her prowess she could not only sense the mysterious oppressive miasma of dark side power that surrounded the tomb, but, she could hear it. It was quite unavoidable - a long bellowing howl that sounded like it was groaning words but, the howling dragged so long that it was unrecognisable. Pythia had learned some of the ancient Sith Language when she had been studying the tombs with her master Carnifex. But, this, this was barely Sith or anything else. It howled and howled like a beast in madness. Pythia was transfixed by it. Gradually she turned her head from side to side, she watched the inquisition acolytes and troopers move and preoccupy themselves with mundane tasks. Could they not hear it? She asked herself.

"You!" a shout rang out. It snapped Pythia away from her pensive trance. She she whipped her head to notice that Vaalron was staring her down. He tightened his fists and crossed his arms. He approached her in a direct march right to her spot near one of the statues set on a rotting plinth.

"Who are you?!" Vaalron spat at her, highly suspicious of a face he didn't recognise. He was protective of his operation, very few where to now of it - let alone waltz right in. He raised an eyebrow and barked the question again, "Well! Who. Are. You!"

Confronted by such vapid rage Pythia froze for a moment, but, then composed herself replying cooly, "I meant no inconvenience dark brother, I am Pythia." Vaalron's brows squished together and his lips curled. Pythia? What vagrant is this? I know no Pythia. Vaalron wondered. How did she enter here? Does she have some clearance?

"Who sent you here?" Vaalron continued his interrogation. "This is a restricted area, by order of the Sith Inquisition's Master Darth Saarai."

"Restricted?" Pythia parroted back. "My master had commanded me that all of Korriban was free to my studies? Have I trespassed?"

"Your what?" Vaalron retorted.

What sort of fool was this? She clearly has no idea what's going on here...No. She must have. The Inquisition has many operation all over the Valley. No there is more to this...She...she is a spy! Sent by the other Inquisitors to report on my failures. I well not have them interfere.

"Who is your master then, liar." The Inquisitor growled. Pythia's face showed annoyance. She knew that her master kept her presence a secret but, such outward rebuke of what was their Dark Lord made Pythia grimace. Was this how the Sith conducted their affairs? Was the a real Sith, with power, and status? All that Pythia saw was a jealous mongrel. He reminded her of Grebb.

"I am no liar." Pythia replied defiantly. "I am an Acolyte of the Sith Order, and my master holds terrible power over this world."

"Scum! Lying scum!" Vaalron yelled. Pythia stood in shock. Vaalron then snapped his fingers and spat hate fuelled commands to three troopers who turned around in startled alert. They ran over and surrounded Pythia. "Remove this spy, she is a trespasser!" said Vaalron, before stepping only a finger's length away from Pythia's face. Pythia teeth began to grind together behind her closed lips. Her master's words and her knew teachings called out to her, her rage began to boil and the dark side demanded retribution for such an a front to her right as a member of the Sith Order.

"I will see to it that Darth Saarai hears of your insolence, Acolyte Pythia. And we shall see then what terrible power your master truly wields....Now begone." Vaalron said, delivering his final brutal judgement.

Like a scoundrel, that Grebb would kick out of his slaver's bar, Pythia was escorted and then dumped forcefully into the dirt sands of Korriban with a butt of a blaster outside the tomb grounds. "Better stay away acolyte. We have orders to shoot you next time you try and enter." Warned the trooper before walking away. Pythia lingered in the dirt fuming with rage. But, it was a tempered rage forged into a single purpose now. She turned to face the tomb, she could still hear its howling and its groans in a long dead language.

No one else could hear the tomb's cries, no one else held the prowess to truly understand and reveal it powers. They were all but insects skulking beneath the shadow of a giant that was beyond their comprehension.

Only she could hear it. Only she would be able to understand.

And no one was going to bar her from attaining what she had come to Korriban and the Sith for.

 

[Darth Voyance]

Pythia schemed as she watched the large steel archways that marked the occupied space of the Sith Inquisition, of the Inquisitor who had offended her. Her golden eyes then rested on the tomb. She traced its lines with her eyes. In that moment Pythia considered a new plan of action. Find another way in. Walking the same way she had came, but, keeping a fixed reference of where the tomb had been Pythia circumvented the occupied site of the Inquisition to the back of the tomb. There Pythia was confronted by a mess of toppled obelisks, archways and massive stones. Slowly, the sith acolyte surveyed the ruins for the hint of a weak point or gap to exploit.

As she did so, the earth beneath her began to sink. The sands filtered through a series of cracks that acted as a thin siv. As the sands retreated the earth began to shift, bare stone blocks appeared below her, rumbling and shaking lose. Pythia tried to run to stable ground but, soon there was nothing for her to run on. The earth, stone, and sand below her had now fully given way. Plummeting downwards, Pythia smashed into a large stone that had meet the hidden floor first before rolling down to meet it herself. She was slow and shaken when getting back up. Feeling for a hold in the large stone she had fallen on she used it as a crutch to pull herself up. Her bottom lip was cracked and it bleed in a thin stream of dark twi'lek blood. Her face and arms were bruised. Holding herself up, she saw what she had fallen into - a once hidden subterranean corridor.

The only light came from the disc of Korriban sunlight that shot down into the darkness in a bright cylinder framed by the hole above. Here, the howls of the tomb's mysterious dark master were louder and held their own gravity to the twi'lek dark sider. Pushing off from the stone and cranking her back to walk upright Pythia dove into the darkness, as she had always done in her life. In the darkness she could barely see the architecture she was passing. Great relief scenes and Sith runes lined the walls top and bottom in long strips of art and carvings. Periodically, the wall ceiling would be held a loft by a bowing faceless figure carved from the rock. Pythia caressed the walls, art and all, as a guide. When she felt the large and thick rims of an archway she stopped. The corridor had brought her to a chamber.

She leaned in a little, listening. Did the Inquisition penetrate this deep into the tomb? Besides the howls of the dark side, and the now free stagnate air of the tomb rustling in the vast space - there was no one.

Stepping into the unknown chamber, Pythia was met by the ambient glow of red lights made of strange smokey flames. Their dim light filled the chamber. It was massive, and obscene scale cut into the rocky flesh of Korriban. Tall vaulted ceiling with four enormous statues of armored sith warriors holding the columns they stood in front of and were carved from. At the far corner was a large statue of a great warrior in armor seated in a throne that dwarfed Pythia. A promenade of black obsidian Sith warriors lined the path the to throne statue each holding ancient blades in their arms. Unbeknown to Pythia, one of the red lights dived down to the floor and splattered into a smokey mist.

"I have you now, you wretch!" hissed a familiar voice. Pythia was gripped with fear and loathing. She turned to face the voice.

"Grebb?!" she involuntarily cried out. The old Pykian slave master that had ruled her body and soul had returned from the dead. No. This, can't be...I killed you.

Grebb walked into view, is neck broken causing his head to be titled at an odd angle, his eyes gauged and bleeding thick tears of blood. "You tried to murder me, deformed me! But, I have you. And I will never let go!" Suddenly Grebb exploded into a burst of action. But, no insectoid Pykian could move in such a fashion. He landed on Pythia and ringed his hands around her neck and began to squeezed. Pythia clung int desperation to his hands. Fear crippled her. She would never escape her past, never escape the shame, and guilt she felt. But, the dark side within her did not relent. Her soul did not. Pythia resolved to consume her fear as fuel for her hatred. Letting go of this ghost of her past she instead grabbed his head and with the powers of the dark side she killed him a second time.

"Begone you filth! You are dead, now stay dead!" Pythia screamed, her teeth clenched like a beast. The Grebb before her began to shriek and cry until it exploded into a red smokey mist. Pythia slumped back onto the floor breathing heavily and trying to recover from the terror. Now a different voice called to her.

"Thief!" the deep and thundering voice echoed. ​"Thieves, all of you, come to destroy my rest. I will kill you...all!"

Pythia felt a chill grip her. Getting up, she turned to see the red smokey creatures that had assumed Grebb's form swirling above creating their own miniature atmosphere of crimson crackling energy and black mist.

"I am no thief, terrible darkness." Pythia said. "I am a Sith."

"LIAR!" the voice yelled. The red mist of energy snapped a bolt of crimson lightening shattering the stone beside Pythia. "You are no Sith! You are like the others! Vermin scattering in the bowels of my corpse, stealing the power that is mine!"

"I've come to take nothing!" protested Pythia. "I heard your calls, your defying howling in the dark side. I came to meet you!"

"Enough! Die thief!" the voice said. "Like the others before you, you will DIE!"

The red fog descended in a hurricane, carrying Pythia and pinning her against a wall crushing her body like a tide crashing into the shore. Pythia could feel her muscles being stretched and crushed, her bones bent under the weight of the fog's pressure. Words would not reach such a violent force. Instead, Pythia summoning what strength she had left reached out and with the powers of her empath abilities, unleashed her mind and let the dark energy of the voice bleed in. It came in a malevolent cry that ringing around in her brain. Pythia squeezed her eyes shut in pain and the cried out herself. Slowly she fought back, enforcing her own presence in the darkness that assailed her mind.

"I...serve...the Sith. I...am...Sith!" Pythia repeated over and over, as if a chant of faith trying to calm the malevolent force. "I...only...seek...truth." ​The fog relented and Pythia let out a violent and phlegm clogged gasp of air before falling to her knees massaging her throat. Everything in her being was in pain. Her very mind and soul shook in terrible shivers. The red mist itself had no pulled in front of her. Pythia looked towards it with narrowed golden stare.

"Seeker of truth." the voice parroted. "What truth do you seek then intruder. Are you like the others? Seeking truth through pillaging my remains."

"I--I seek the truth to power. Power of the Sith." Pythia replied.

"HAH! Power...of the Sith." the voice mocked Pythia. "Power, is an illusion. Hate and strength are the true powers you seek. And you have none!"

"Still, you will make a fine weapon for my revenge. Survive and I will relate to you this truth you seek. But, fail, and I will kill you here and now."

Pythia had no choice, she rose gingerly and stepped towards the red miniature maelstrom.

"Who are you...seeker."

"I am Pythia, Sith and apprentice to the Dark Lord of the Sith." said Pythia before kneeling before the maelstrom. She had made her choice, she would seek this truth or die here - she could no longer wander and waste her time. If she was meant to be a Sith she would find the brutal answer here. "Dark Lord of the Sith?" the voice laughed. The maelstrom rose and congealed into a figure of a human with broad shoulders and a towering frame. Suddenly, defining features came into view. Sith armor, a mask of pallid skeletal horror, and a frame built out of the brutal experiences of war. This ancient evil stood over Pythia. His entire form was pulsating in the dark side. Its oppressive aura was far more bewildering then that of her master. This as a being of untold power...and hate.

"I am Tulak Horde. Dark Lord of the Ancient Sith. Master of this Tomb....and now yours."​

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