The Once And Future Mand'alor

[Ra Vizsla]

C A S T A M E E R​

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A long, long time ago, on a planet far, far away...​

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Dark skies swirled around the frozen north of Castameer, the site of the assault on a forsaken Sith stronghold. Thunder boomed throughout the valley, lightning streaked across the sky.

The echoes of history etched in the storm itself, the voices of a haunted past heard roaring on the artic winds.

"Only the strongest shall rule Mandalore!"

The planet had been irradiated due to the destruction of the Omega weapon and the ousting of the rogue empire of Sith. The battle here, spearheaded by the brutish yet unwavering Mando'ade, had been decisive in turning the tide of battle.

"I charge you, Alor Raxis, with treason."

The mountains of broken Castameer stood calm despite the storm, mists of snow swirling gently upon the peaks as the planet stirred.

"The Clans will decide your guilt. My sword will decide your fate."

Yet something...something was lost here, something lay hidden beneath the densely packed snow, laying in wait.

"Mandalore remembers."

Something stirred beneath the surface as the risen temperature of the irradiated planet would melt the ice.

"For honor!"​

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The roars of a warrior's past resounded even louder throughout the storm.​

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"For glory!"​

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A gauntlet, in the snow.​

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"YOUR MAND'ALOR CALLS YOU TO CRUSADE."​

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The corpse of Ra Vizsla, once Mand'alor of the Clans, had crawled its way out of the abyss.​

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[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Crestfallen emerged out of hyperspace over ruined Castameer, tilting slightly as it neared the planet's atmosphere.

The crew inside were silent and solemn as the looming storm-ridden planet grew closer and closer, though the stench of anxiety permeated the cockpit. A couple of them had been present during that fateful battle, or had known someone who had been. For many it had been a harrowing experience fraught with tragedy and trauma, but for the towering monolith of a man who loomed behind them it had just been another battle in a great war spanning decades.

Lightning shrouded the vessel as it passed through the irradiated clouds, the red warning light popping to life in response and bathing the ship's occupants in an eerie glow. Their destination loomed ahead of them, the shadow of the forsaken Sith stronghold darkening the battlefield laid out before it. "Take us down, it is here. I can sense it. The threads of destiny." The pilots brought the shuttle to a landing in the melting snow while the extraction team geared up in bio-hazard suits that would protect them from the lethal radiation outside.

They fanned out, traversing the dangerous terrain in search of the disturbance in the Force that had brought their leader to this forlorn world. Eventually they would find it in a bank of melting snow, the body preserved in near pristine condition thanks to the frigidness of its tomb. "Exhume the remains, and move swiftly. The longer we remain the greater the risk of losing our prize grows." They unearthed the rest of the corpse, and placed it in a stasis chamber for transport inside of the Crestfallen's hold.

When all was said and done, their leader removed the protective domed helmet of his hazmat suit to reveal the scarred features of Darth Carnifex, Dark Lord of the Sith. He looked down at the unmoving body of [member="Ra Vizsla"] and smiled, "Death was not the end, Mand'alor. It was the pathway to something greater."

His body had been reclaimed, all that remained was his soul.

 

[Ra Vizsla]

"Death was not the end, Mand'alor. It was the pathway to something greater."​

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The fury of a once proud warrior race lay silent within its stasis chamber.​

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His features remained barely touched.​

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Mandalore remembers.​

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It was obvious the former Mand'alor was not at rest within the halls of his ancestors. One could feel it in the crackling rage that surrounded his still, unmoving corpse. Ra had been robbed of his chance to exact further revenge on those that had caused grievance to the Mando'ade, to those who would seek their destruction. It had become even more obvious after his death.

Corruption. Greed. Betrayal.

"Our enemies are sloth and corruption, wicked they may be.

They hide in the shadows.

They are a disease that must be drawn to the surface and expelled.

Forcefully."

No, the words escaped the mouth of history itself. Ra had stood against all of these things, had fought against all of these things, had kept them at bay from the Clans. He had heeled the inactive Council of Alors, had brought unity under one vision to the Clans.

Yet Sloth and Corruption had returned tenfold upon his demise. No crusade was called to stop them, and this single stalwart warrior was incapacitated.

His screams could be heard in the Nether.

Shackled.

Chained.

Begging to be let loose.

Fighting to once again be free.

Forced to live out eternity knowing he was powerless to protect his people.


[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

D A T H O M I R​

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From Castameer they traveled to Dathomir, the planet of the witches.

The Dark Lord knew what lay hidden on the plains of Dathomir, a spiritual edifice erected by Ember Rekali to not only commune with the lost and the damned, but also traverse that realm where all spirits transcend after death. He had seen it once before when a conclave of witches was summoned before it, he had walked before the monolith and tasted a hint of the power that went into its construction.

But he had never crossed over in such a manner, never attempted such a feat. He was determined to change that today.

The Crestfallen landed in the field that lay before the gate, the descent wind flattening the grass and sending the pilgrims and wayward witches scrambling for cover. The ramp lowered and the Dark Lord, alone and armed only with Derriphan and a soul anchor, strode out amidst the gale winds and the howling of lost souls. Ra's body was left on the ship -- protected and kept in stasis until the time came for the transference. For now it would serve no purpose as Carnifex prepared to return to the realm of the neverborn.

He touched the west side of the slab, and --

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N E T H E R W O R L D​

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The world spun.

The ranks of the dead swelled and threatened to pull him down, burying him beneath the sea of those he had murdered. The thousands upon thousands, the billions of lives he had erased throughout his life threatened to swallow him up in their rage and their hate.

But he was strong, he had the Force at his side and the drive and conviction to not be overwhelmed by the illusions of the Netherworld.

So he climbed up, runeblade digging through the souls of those he had slain and devouring them in turn. He emerged from the top, the clawed fingers of the dead still struggling to pull him back into their embrace, but he defied them.

Those that came at him were cut down, their spirit siphoned into the blade to be trapped for all eternity as fuel for his power. By the time he had reached the edge of Sinner's Rue he had lost track of how many he killed, but he knew that Derriphan swelled with satisfaction. He trudged on through the cavernous realms of the Netherworld, striking down any spirit or demon who barred his path, his journey taking many hundreds of years to complete while only minutes, maybe an hour or two at most, had passed in the living realm.

Until, at last, he had found what he had been looking for.

Great ethereal chains bound the spirit's form as he raged and howled his defiance against fate, against the destiny that was dealt to him on Castameer.

"Ra Viszla," breathed the Dark Lord as he came into sight, "I have come to deliver you from this unfitting end."​

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[member="Ra Vizsla"]​

 

[Ra Vizsla]

N E T H E R W O R L D​

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[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

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The shirtless visage of a broken Ra Vizsla sat atop a great stone pillar.​

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Ethereal chains bore him to this pillar,​

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imprisoning the once great warrior.​

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"MY FATE WAS TAKEN FROM ME," he roared, his spirit still unwavering. It became apparent his mind was not as lucky. The Mandalorian was roaring into the sky, unaware of the Sith Lord's presence.

Blood seeped down the marble arches of his shoulders, his flesh straining against it's shackles.

"THIS MISERABLE SOUL," he wailed... it might seemed like he had been going on for hours, days, months...centuries? Down here, in the most wretched hive of all wretched hives. Here, where there was no pity to gain, no sky to bring joy, no wife to love and no child to cherish. "This miserable soul seeks life without praise, without disgrace."

Was he quoting scripture?

"Release me," he roared, his voice crackling with gravel. "And let me find the way into the city of woe, the leader of the anguished, the foremost of the lost."

The great form of Ra sunk down into his stony prison, his rage subsiding for the time being, his attention being drawn towards his visitor.

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A massive hand gripped the edge of the pillar as the emblazoned emerald eyes of the Mand'alor glared down at Darth Carnifex.​

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"Before me there was no rage, no justice​

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But that which would have lasted an aeon.​

Abandon all hope ​

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you ​

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who ​

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enter ​

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here."​

Ra Vizsla, tormented, sat silently staring at his visitor.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord stood, unflinching, against the former Mand'alor's rage.

What a terrible fate had befallen this warrior, proud leader of his people, to be chained in the bowels of Hell and incapable of breaking free of the chains that bound him to his torment. Carnifex sheathed his runeblade and neared the restrained Mandalorian, eyes of molten magma meeting the impossibly bright emerald of Ra's.

"Suffer no longer, mighty Vizsla. Destiny has other plans in store for you."

He had other plans in store for him.

Carnifex reached down to his waist and produced a fist-sized black gem, smoke writhing behind its glossy surface. It was a Sith soulstone, a device used by the ancients to store the souls of the deceased for transportation and ritual. Whispered words of power brought the stone to life, and with a gentle push the stone flew from the Sith Lord's hands and floated towards the bound Vizsla.

Upon touching the bound spirit the stone would activate, and like a vortex the spiritual form of [member="Ra Vizsla"] would be drawn towards and into the gem. The process would undoubtedly be uncomfortable. The spirit would be stretched and siphoned into an inconceivably small space, and ultimately locked away.

Reaching down Carnifex scooped up the soulstone, and examined it. The faint visage of Vizsla could be seen writhing beneath the surface, intertwined with the smoke and darkness. A smile now crossed his face, the body and the soul had finally be retrieved. All that remained was to free himself of this hateful realm and return to the land of the material.

And begin the ritual.​

 

[Ra Vizsla]

[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

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The spirit of Ra curiously gazed upon the gemstone that his visitor raised before him.​

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It was....indescribable... something drew his gaze in.​

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"What mortal hands..."​

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A gasp escaped the Mandalorian's mouth, and the Cavern shook. The pillar shook.

The ground, ethereal as the chains that held Ra, began to shake violently.

The mighty warrior spirit lowered his head, his eyes looked defeated once again.​

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Defeated in death.​

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Defeated by this wretched hell.​

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Defeated by this new captive who brings forth a new prison.​

There would be no change in his circumstances. Even the broken mind of Ra understood this.

After living a life of control, of power, of authority, he knew the absolute truth of his own personal hell.

He was no longer in control.​

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"Last you speak to that which is free,​

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know this.​

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Vengeance will be mi-"​

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In a puff of mist, the spirit disappeared. The gemstone glowed a bright blue around its opaque black edges.​

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The Sith Lord had captured the spirit of Ra, Mand'alor.​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Carnifex cradled the gem like it was a child, tucking it away into the hanging pouch at his side before departing the site of Ra's former imprisonment.

It would be an arduous journey back. The Sith Lord had to retread his entire journey through the perilous dimensions of Hell, Derriphan unsheathed and held before him as he walked through the endless barrens of the Blood Wastes. The boiling rain seared his skin, but he persevered despite the agony that befell him with every torturous step. The wandering dead sought to cling to him, for as a living walking in the realm of the dead he was like a beacon to them.

A beacon of false hope, or perhaps a beacon of release, as he cut them down mercilessly as they approached. Their souls would join the countless others bound within his dire weapon.

But, at last, the Sinner's Rue lay before him and with it the way back home. Yet as he neared the sea of dead materialized again to drag him into their depths, and he summoned the Dark Side to vanquish them. Spears of lightning were flung from his fingertips, searing flesh and bone black as the energy cascaded over the endless ranks of the damned. By the time Carnifex had reached the portal the road behind him was strewn with the eviscerated spirits of a thousand thousand dead, a mighty canyon of writhing pseudo-flesh that oozed offal and spewed waterfalls of crimson.

He reached out to touch the portal--

D A T H O M I R​

And suddenly he was back in that field, his ship resting before him as if he hadn't been gone but for the briefest of moments.

Fresh air filled his nostrils as he breathed in deeply, the first real taste of living he had in what to him seemed like over a thousand years of wandering. The universe was like a maelstrom, and the living realm and the Netherworld were like pieces of driftwood caught in its current. The galaxy existed on the far edge of the maelstrom, listing calmly at a steady predictable speed around and around. The Netherworld, however, existed much closer to the maelstrom's vortex, and was thrown about violently as it spun rapidly around the eye.

Time may pass normally in the galaxy, but in the Nether time was wild and unpredictable. What may be a week's worth of time in the galaxy may be ten thousand years in the Netherworld.

Carnifex had trudged through multiple lifetimes in his quest to reclaim the Soul of Ra Vizsla, but he had emerged on the other side unaffected by the extreme passage of time. And he had not forgotten his purpose, the one thing that had taken him through that damned realm.

He reboarded the Crestfallen and set course for his final destination.

K H A R D E L B A​

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Dilsana Methushael loomed before the shuttle as it broke through the frigid planet's atmosphere.

The concentric fortress had been built upon the ruins of Naga Sadow's citadel high in the mountains, and served as a private retreat for the Dark Lord hidden away within the Stygian Caldera. It was one of his closely guarded secrets, and not even members of his inner council knew of the castle's location save for his Shadow Hand.

It was here, Carnifex thought, that Ra Vizsla would taste life once again.

The shuttle settled down within the castle's inner courtyard, and both Ra's remains and his trapped soul were moved deep into the temple's winding confines to a ritual chamber built at the greatest concentration of lingering Dark Side energy on the planet. His body was stripped of armor, blessed with oils, and laid on a large stone slab. Incense was burned in massive bowl-shaped braziers as a choir of robbed servants hummed and chanted ancient Sith hymns.

Carnifex too was dressed in ceremonial maroon robes, the soulstone clutched in his left hand while a dagger was held in his right. He neared the slab, offering the words of ritual that were necessary for the invocation. He meticulously carved Runes of Control over the fallen Mand'alor's body, paying great detail to one centered on his broad muscular chest. When that was complete he placed the gemstone at the center of Vizsla's chest, and breathed the final line of conjuration.

There was a burst of Dark Side energy as dark magic seeped into Ra's body, the runes becoming illuminated by a sickly green glow. The flesh around the soulstone bubbled and contorted, opening to allow the stone entry until only one side remained visible.

"Rise, [member="Ra Vizsla"], Mand'alor of the Clans. RISE! The Dark Lord of the Sith demands you rise!"​

 

[Ra Vizsla]

K H A RD E L B A​

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[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

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Ra....​

Dark runes etched their way into Ra's epidermis as purple tendrils surrounded his lifeless body.

A thousand memories, a lifetime of anger, of fear, of courage....a mind was returning to the land of the living. A man who did not belong here. A man whose fate had been sealed.

One of the most dangerous warriors ever to have walked the halls of Mandalore.

Former Mand'alor, Ra Vizsla.

Gasp.​

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Air filled his lungs.​

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Bright lights filled his gaze. Eyes began to flutter, iris expanding, adjusting.​

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Massive hands gripped the sides of the slab with tremendous pressure, his feet kicking as Ra sat up.​

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Where am I, he thought. What is this.

What happened.

Only darkness. No memories. Ra knew who he was, yes. He was Mand'alor. Protector of Mandalore and his people. There was a crusade. A union of the Clans.

It all began to flood his mind.

Emerald eyes began to grasp his surroundings.​

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Am I....am I dead?​

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....was I?​

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The scenery was unfamiliar. Ra did not recognize where he was.

He tried to speak. Hoarse gasping. He couldn't form words.

A figure in the light. Who was this...he looked... regal.​

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A former Mand'alor, here to welcome Ra into the halls of Valor, to join his forefathers?​

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No.​

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Something darker.​

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More sinister.​

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Maligned.​

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He didn't immediately recognize him, not at first, but the possibilities began to flood his mind. Of where he was. Of who he was. Of what he was doing here.​

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....Sorcery.​

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Rage fueled the former Mand'alor, and his hands reached out in anger to grasp the figure's throat, to tear this man apart for disrupting the natural order of his life.​

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He was unable to speak, currently​

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but Ra possessed all of his abilities to crush a man with his own hands.​

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Or atleast he thought so.​

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Fatigue crumbled the Mandalorian to the floor, his body weak from the stench of death. Ra could barely kneel, much less stand.​

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He crumpled to the floor in pain.​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Mand'alor awoke.

Confusion and fear strangled his vibrant emerald eyes before the haze of hate fell over them, and he reached out with malicious intent towards the Sith Lord only to succumb to weakness of body and collapse. Even if he had managed to wrap his fingers around Carnifex's throat, the runes of control carved into his skin would have rendered such efforts moot.

Still, it was somewhat pleasing to see that the Mand'alor still had some fight left in him even after all these years.

Now he loomed over him, his shadow cascading down upon Vizsla. "Your muscles have atrophied, great Mand'alor. Too long was your body left to wither beneath the snow of Castameer, but consider yourself fortunate that your body was still salvageable." Indeed, Carnifex's bio-surgeons were forced to repair parts of [member="Ra Vizsla"]'s body that had succumbed to permanent damage from the intense cold, and ensure that when Ra's spirit rejoined his body he didn't immediately die from failing organs or some other calamity.

In fact, Carnifex thought that Ra should be grateful for this second opportunity, but he decided not to lord it over him for now.

He was humble like that.

"It will take some time for you to adjust, to regain your full strength. In that time I will be the one guiding you to your new purpose, educating you of the future that I envision for the galaxy." His next words caused a grin to spread over his face, "And the destiny you will guide your people towards."

 

[Ra Vizsla]

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

That voice...

Ra had spent some time learning the other powers of the Galaxy, the other leaders. Especially the Jeedai and the Siith, foul creatures they were. Evil creatures. Unnatural.

The former Mand'alor hated them all.

"I will NEVER..."​

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Writhing pain encased his body, bringing him down to all fours, his hands on the cool granite beneath him.​

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Ra roared in defiance against the searing pain.​

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"Carn.....Carnifex, you fool." Ra tried to laugh, until the pain seared again. He began roaring again, ripping his claws at his own chest.​

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Blinding pain.​

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There was no amount of credit, no debt he wouldn't pay to have been here in his prime as Mand'alor. To be this close to Darth Carnifex, the man whose voice he had recognized.

To have his hands gripped around the Sorcerer's throat.

But now...

...now he seemed powerless to even lift them.

"RAAAAAAGH," Ra roared, slashing at his own face with his fingers. His eyes turned from a emblazoned emerald to a cool blue.​

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Ra slowly fell again to his knees, knelt before the Sith.​

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Head bowed.​

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"What...​

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What........ is thy bidding,​

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my master?"​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

That was more like it.

The Dark Lord placed a hand on Ra's head, connecting the bridge between servant and master. Ra was powerful, and for a moment Carnifex was worried that he might possess the resolve to break free of the enchantments that had been placed over his body.

It was good that he was still so fatigued. His recovery would allow the Dark Lord to tighten his hold over the former Mand'alor, ensuring that control over his new puppet would be a simple and efficient affair.

"Two years have you laid dormant beneath the snows of Castameer, and I do not require a weak warrior. You will train, you will recover. The strength you once wielded will return to you in time, and when it does I have a task for you to complete."

The Mandalorians have, despite the leadership of [member="Vilaz Munin"], fallen back into chaos and anarchy. Old leaders vied for control over the disparaged clans, and the environment was ripe for the Sith to take advantage of.

"You will return to Mandalore, you will see what has happened in your absence, and then you will do what must be done. The Mandalorians must be brought to heel, and by your voice they will rally. Through my design they will serve the Sith again."

[member="Ra Vizsla"]​

 

[Ra Vizsla]

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

"....As you command."​

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Ra would falter into a deep slumber shortly after. Servants would move his body. The sorcery of the Dark Lord would root itself deep, unrecoverable into Ra's mind and body.​

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The Mand'alor would remember none of this.​

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He would not remember Kaine.​

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He would not remember his resurrection.​

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But like a virus, the tendrils of the Dark Lord would sift, waiting.​

~End Ra~​