The Return of a Supernova.

[Lord Depravious]

Lord Depravious was brooding. The hatred of his people, of his very being slowly began to radiate along the surface of the Sith Homeworld Korriban. He had been building power for quite some time in the depths of that planet. Within this cavern the wind slowly crept along his face and with it the literal feeling of sorrow could almost be manifested simply by waving your hand in the air as you approached the depths of which he sat in his chair. He had sat there for so long brooding that he had almost literally petrified. Those in the universe had forgotten his name, they had forgotten the fear that he could instill. The rage of the souls of his people swirled around him as he sat in the throne he had built for himself of sand. Along the cavern lay runes dark and old of nature. Arcane energy resonated from them and pulsed with the emotion furiously swirling through-out the room.


The man stood from his chair, his skin cracking and creaking as the force quickly rushed to each crease and each crack healing it. Tears flowed from his face, as the water fell from his cheeks his thoughts flooded through his mind of all of those who had once died in the civil war for him, and what had he done for them? Nothing but sit upon a makeshift throne and dwell upon all of the power that he held. Eons of rage, centuries of sadness swelled within him. It began to overcome his very being as it slowly emanated to the planets surface when he stood. He spoke to himself, "The Universe will realize what honor is once more, and also what brutality can come along with that." The air bit at his tongue finally being exposed to it after quite some time.

He slowly stretched his arms out to the sides his skin stretching along with him. The red runes across his chest pulsated for the first time in years as the force flowed through him, as his emotion flooded into his body once more. Arcane energy began to swell within the room - to any mere mortal even breathing in this room would have been hard due to the sheer power that began to envelope around his body. As Depravious took a deep breath in, his eyes began to restore to their crimson color once again. The force slowly began to envelop his body spreading darkness along his white skin. His armor manifested out of the force over his body and slid over him as if it were nothing more than a satin robe.

With his hands still out to his sides his legendary halberd shot into his right hand the handle of it smoothly laying flush along his arm and his back as the halberd pointed directly outwards to the right of him. The blade shone as if it had just been cleaned the day before. The kiss of the air along the weapon once again almost seemed to sing with the arcane energies flowing through out the room.

He slammed the bottom of the handle downwards onto the floor. As he did the earth around him shook ever so slightly. Tears flowed through his eyes as he mentally began to ask each and everyone of those who had died for him so long ago for their forgiveness. He had tarnished their banner, he had spit upon their names, and he had drug them through the mud; however, that would no longer stand in his eyes. This was his final trek through the galaxy. The final time to build the order he fought so hard for, he destroyed lives for, and lives sacrificed themselves in the belief that the prophecy of the twin dragons would one day become real.

"Now hear me Sith, and those around the galaxy.." His halberd slowly rose from the ground and then dropped once more. The arcane runes along the walls and his chest began to pulsate a bright crimson. "I signify the end to your miserable way of life, should you join me you will live, should you stand against me - you will face the an unimaginably dark future, all hope will be stripped from your very soul and it will see only darkness.. Learn to transcend into emotion, and stand by me so that you may be perfection."

With the final thrust of his halberd downwards he let it slide from his hand as his hands shot into the air. His force aura shot upwards through the rock and through the levels above him. The oppressing bogan aura spread through out the planet with the aid of the darksided nexus upon the planet the rupture in the force could be felt by even those not adept in the force for planets around Korriban. The swirling emotion spread like wildfire through out the planet shaking the walls of the grand structures upon Korriban. Tornadoes formed from the sheer arcane power that flowed through the emotion almost manifesting it as its own being.

He slowly let his hands down to his sides, the metal pieces on his armor lightly tapping together as he bent down to grab his halberd. "I will recruit those who will be my brothers and sisters, those who I can trust and have honor. All others will fall in the wake of our devastation." A small glint in his crimson eyes arose as he emerged from his cavern that he had lay dormant for so long.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"What the-"

Were the only words an armor-clad Mikhail Shorn got out before tornadoes started whipping up around him. The winds knocked him flat and began pushing him unceremoniously through the sand like some poor excuse for a desert wind skiff. Grunting, Shorn lashed himself to the ground with his mind and struggled to his feet amid a gust of sand that would've skinned him raw had it not been for the armor he wore. Even so, he found an alarming amount of the coarse grains collecting in what seemed to be every joint in his armor.

Rather off put by the sudden windstorms, Mikhail decided it was his turn to play at god. He raised a hand against the assault of nature and bid it be silent. A wave of telekinesis exploded outward, slamming into the vertical tornado tubes and dissipating them like a typhoon dissipates a spring shower. As the weather returned to its former state, Mikhail immediately decided he preferred Korriban the silent crypt of a thousand Sith souls to Korriban the world of sudden tornadoes.

Though some mistook impulsiveness for lack of intelligence, Shorn was not stupid by nature. It took him half-a-second to remember the weird aura he'd felt from below the ground. He'd just assumed it was some crotchety old Sith rolling over in his grave, but on second glance... Mikhail whirled around toward the sudden presence which had emerged from a cavern. Feelings of triumph and darkness rolled from the being just as Shorn's own presence seemed embroiled in nonchalant-mischief over a deadly interior.

Mikhail's cold, blue eyes narrowed beneath his helmet. Oh goodie, a Sith to kill - at least he could only assume the dude was a Sith, what with the dark side and the big ol' halberd and the grandiose carriage.

"Hey, Halberd Boy," Shorn barked, "Some of us have temples up here, jackass."

He pointed toward the half-built temple of the Thronebreaker which stood nearby. Dranok, his one time puppet Emperor, had constructed it to his specifications, before Kaine went and snapped the guy's spine. Some of those specifications had included some rather unorthodox building materials. Like credits. Lots of credits. Stashed inside the masonry. Hey, a Sith Lord's gotta eat somehow. Can't just threaten the waitress every time you feel like a meal.

"Take your natural disaster party somewhere else."

[member="Lord Depravious"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

A single eyebrow arched above the silver-green orb beneath with a...bemused...expression. Korriban was...basically the most worthless planet in the history of planets at this point. Sure, it held importance to the very distant past of the Sith. For the most part, every burial site and treasure trove had been ransacked hundreds of years ago. Yet...people always seemed to manage to discover some trinket of power or another practically every week.

Exhaling naturally, Cameron's gaze remained fixed on the horizon. The continuous ebb and flow of the dark side that had long-since contorted the very core of Korriban was hardly a surprising sensation. However, when one chose to infuse the planet's atmosphere with the putrid taint of their, undoubtedly, important existence, the Sith Lord could not help but notice. The strange weather that quickly manifested in response and was seemingly mitigated just as swiftly only added to the Aesir's mild curiosity.

His facial features rarely contorted into anything other than a thin line of indifference when more than five feet from his galactic center, the one thing that would always call him back with but the faintest of whispers at any moment. Silently, Cameron took one step forward and allowed his body to plummet from the edge of the cliff. Folds of dark blue and gray rippled and flailed around him as the dark-skinned Sith neared the rocky ground.

As he approached the point of impact, he manipulated the Force to regulate his descent. Landing in a cloud of dust and debris with his right hand lightly touching the ground, Cameron maintained his veiled gaze in the direction of his momentary interest. Rising to his full height, he began walking forward casually.

His pace, however, increased steadily over time until he was very nearly a blur of color crossing the horizon. Cameron's expedience was a result of impatience, not excitement or anticipation.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"] | [member="Lord Depravious"]

 

[Lord Depravious]

Lord Depravious's boots trudged through the sand slowly pushing it aside as he eloquently walked towards the man in front of him. [member="Mikhail Shorn"] ... Yes, Lord Depravious knew this man - he was a warrior at that time though. Regardless the man stood more tall now, and his power seemingly had increased significantly since his last meeting. Depravious could care less though, he was more interested in the mans snarky attitude. Behind his own helmet Depravious's face contorted for a moment before his body grew a bit tense in front of the man. Slowly after a few moments of staring at him his breathing slowed down and he began to speak, "You are correct; however, I have no time to worry of petty temples." Lord Depravious's voice hissed out at the man from behind the metal helmet.

"Tell me, why is it i hear such disrespect in your voice?" his words shot out of his mouth this time, his fist slowly growing tenser at his side. Momentarily his emotions flared once again and he took a step forward to the man before once again coming to a stop and simply watching him. He understood getting into a fight with others who may hold some weight within the Sith Order at this point was probably more than likely a bad idea; however, it would take Depravious a moment to adjust to those probably not knowing or caring of who he was yet.

Before he could continue speaking he could sense the presence of another powerful being making their way towards both of them. For a single moment his eyes glanced as if looking directly through the one in front of him before he slowly put his head down. During this split moment he slowly assessed his options and his surroundings and what he may have to do should these two decide to make things ugly. He would always abide by the ideologies that he fought to uphold; however, he would not be dying here today. So if it took blood of those considered great to gain respect, Lord Depravious was ready.

[member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[300]

There were a few things the this man could not stand about Sith Lords, they would first be Acolytes, hopefuls wishing to become something great, then they would turn into a Knight, like himself, but by this time, this craving for power would have sinked in, and they would be bastards to have to deal with. Then there was the fact they wanted to kill each other in hopes this would gain them more power, it was all about power with them. As Darth Inferno was walking, he could hear the ruckus of some one yelling about something about disasters. This peaked his interest in this situation, so when he came turning the corner, he stopped, leaned against the wall, and watched.

He knew neither of the two before him. He could careless about the two even more. He titled his head, and bit his lip to keep himself laughing at the two adults acting like children in his eyes. This is what he did, he watched things from afar, observed to find exploits, and chances to gain things that would be to subtle for anyone to notice he had gained it.

[member="Lord Depravious"] [member="Cameron Centurion"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Because you're becoming a real pain. Now get lost, Has-Been."

Presences began to creep about the nearby Temple like the first shadows of evening. Shorn grimaced underneath his helmet. Korriban a 'dead' planet. That was the biggest joke in the galaxy. The place was crawling with Sith and adventurous hopefuls, searching for power or artifacts on or beneath the sands of Korriban.

It had been a long time since Mikhail had been a part of the Sith Empire, even then he'd been a loose-cannon. Rogue Sith didn't really make his position clear. He didn't give a damn about Jedi, or Knights Obsidian, or whoever the hell those other orders were. No, his favorite pastime was killing Sith. He didn't do it for power or wealth. He did it because hearing a Sith's neck snap sent little shivers of satisfaction up his spine.

Shorn's hand stretched to the side, becoming a claw. "Oh don't be so shy," he growled to the dude in hiding. "Come out and join the fun."

A telekinetic hand enveloped [member="Darth Inferno"] as Shorn attempted to move him rather insistently out into the open, by ripping him literally through the wall and into the sand in front of Shorn's feet.

The Thronebreaker was known for one power and one power only: Telekinesis. He used that power at the cost of nearly every other Force Power, to such an extent that he no longer used a lightsaber. He doubt he'd even remember how.

There were two people in the galaxy who came close to peers in that area. Neither of them were on the planet.

Yet, no doubt they were all about to be hear the fellow wax eloquent, extolling the various strongpoints of the knight and how he came to resist puny masters. Shorn would enjoy the comic relief.

[member="Lord Depravious"] [member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Lord Depravious]

Lord Depravious's gaze narrowed upon [member="Mikhail Shorn"]. His lips curled if only for a moment at the righteousness this man held within his voice. "Watch your tongue boy, before I rip it from your head." Lord Depravious slowly moved his fingers back and forth as if a pendulum between each other. The mere taste of possible combat in the air brought new life to his crimson eyes. He had not realized that he would be graced so early with a meal. You see, Depravious did not kill without meaning - to do so was dishonorable and while most "Sith Lords" or what they called "Sith Lords" these days would laugh at that - he took it as no laughing matter. To be perfect, one must be able to kill as a Sith would - ruthless, dark, and dominant. However, in order to be perfect you must kill in that way but you must also be able to kill with, nobility, honor, and pride at the same time. That is what Sith Strove for, they strove for perfection; nevertheless, many Sith forgot about that and simply looked to take peoples lives senselessly - and thus their lives were meaningless.

By Shorn's mere control over the elements and the sudden tornadoes - Lord Depravious was able to tell that this man had an extreme affinity for telekinesis. Perhaps not as much as he thought he did, regardless he still had quite the knack for telekinesis. Should they battle Lord Depravious had extensive experience with dueling against telekinesis users - and they were never an easy fight. While the power itself can be powerful the usual expert in Telekinesis didn't take a liking to the power because it was just overbearingly strong. They took that affinity because they were ruthlessly intelligent and knew its practical and strategic uses.

As the man attempted to drag the Knight through the wall Depravious smirked ever so slightly. While he had noticed the knight there - he was but a mere spec in the grand spectrum of things. Lord Depravious was on the hunt for people who would follow his cause. The Knight had exemplified nothing but cowardice in the wake of the two Sith Lords, or what [member="Darth Inferno"] would call "examining." What a joke that was, Sith were meant to do one thing. Constantly be moving towards their goals, should you fail to continue to move toward your dream the Sith would die. That Sith would die. While his title may hold the name "Knight" Lord Depravious saw this man as no warrior. He was a mere coward in the wakes of bodies that would pile behind Depravious should he not prove himself to both of the Sith Lords quickly.


All of this aside Lord Depravious had attracted attention and that meant that blood would more than likely be spilled over this sand. It would burn red with the blood of those who stood in his way. All of them. His knuckles slowly began to tighten around the handle of his Halberd as his eyes once again fixated upon Mikhail Shorn. His predatory gaze was now fixed upon this man standing in front of him.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

"Now hear me Sith, and those around the galaxy.."​

​

The command, while earnest... old, seethed with the type that not only called, but was sanctioned to be drank as if the words were a sweet wine. Anesia put an ear, perhaps cupped a hand about it, as if to hear the remainder with more clarity. To dramatize a climax on the rise.

"I signify the end to your miserable way of life, should you join me you will live, should you stand against me - you will face the an unimaginably dark future, all hope will be stripped from your very soul and it will see only darkness.. Learn to transcend into emotion, and stand by me so that you may be perfection."​

​

Nothing more than darkness, perfection appealed to the Sith and nothing more than a crisp, slashed smile cut her lips. "As opposed to what?" The inky dark reached, like a serpent's tongue that seemed to have no end within the very ether of The Force, but discord and destination that would reach the mind of the preacher [[member="Lord Depravious"]]. "A bright future? Deformity... tell me." A hollow laugh followed, "That is what we are all searching for... after all, oh lost savior mine."

Vanity perched, though not upon a throne, but a seat reserved for a co-pilot. The Divinus was not quite within the atmosphere of the notable planet Korriban, but less than a click or so shy. It was in many ways just as Ferrius, always the same and always collecting, eternally burning. Her viridian gaze beheld that of the burnt gold glow from the view port and a sense of nostalgia reared its head. Centuries had passed and yet it held the allure, the captivating aura of ancient power and of new unequivocally. Anesia's nails tapped over the controls, just gracing them really, not punching a single one. "Stay on course. I am... curious." The graying haired pilot obliged.

Since her resignation from the Authority, the dark haired, fair-skinned Sith Lord had taken to exploration of the Galaxy she once knew. That she happened to arrive in such an area -the place where it began- at such a time... was it fate or just another tryst with the darkness that slept there? Alas, it was not only the presence of one that she felt, but of many. Oh, debauchery, you hadn't forgot.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"] | [member="Cameron Centurion"] | [member="Darth Inferno"]​

 

[Lord Depravious]

Even with Mikhail Shorn standing in front of him - Lord Depravious allowed his senses to tingle at the words of the woman who so slyly attempted to speak into his ear as if she was a shadow of a ghost. With his eyes still fixed upon the woman The Sith Lord felt a different interest in this woman. Not one of killing him, as the other two Sith Lords who approached would more than readily attempt and fall utterly short.. No.. She had an intrigue in Lord Depravious. Thus, Lord Depravious obliged her even if only for a short moment before the other Sith Lord decided to arrive on the scene - of which he would need to pay full attention to what he thought would be his adversaries.

"Entire worlds, will be frozen in the wake of a belief." Depravious' lips curled at the side for a moment while his memories rushed through his mind. "The order of weaklings that represent the 'Sith' now are no true Sith. These warriors are not true warriors... No.. We were once a proud people, even under Adas we were proud, and held honor in battle among each other. We would strip the core of heat from people as they lay on the floor bloody and crying. A warrior now-a-days is considered one who can fight well and destroy all of their enemies in front of them. That is not what a true warrior is - a true warrior is one who devotes themselves to what they wholeheartedly believe in until the end. You do not have to be the best duelist, or have killed the most warriors in battle. There was a time when we were some of the Darkest beings to walk the galaxy. We didn't fight to kill a Jedi. We would make them think that they were going to die, and when all hope was lost, when you could no longer see the light in their eyes you would let them leave. Let them spread the word of fear of who you were through out the galaxy... And try to pick up the shattered pieces of who they were... Order once signified something, it signified brothers and sisters that would take battle by your side and give their lives for you in the blink of an eye without asking why." Lord Depravious's thoughts trailed to the great civil war he waged over his faction. He had been betrayed by the ones he loved the most, and for that he destroyed everything.

"The cowards that call themselves 'Sith' know not how to achieve perfection. It is every Sith's dream to achieve perfection and become the ultimate being; however, so many of you believe that you simply must kill and attain power to gain perfection. Perfection is in the soul, it is in the mind, it is in the heart. You must be able to kill with malice, ruthlessness, and have a bloodlust none have seen before you; however, you must also have nobility, honor, and love with every stroke of your weapon. That is what perfection is, it is not one or the other. That is what a true Sith is, not this morphed beast it has become. Join me, and learn of a past far greater than the present."

His voice echoed in the head of the woman and those around him who would allow it into their heads. His thoughts pierced through the force as the arcane runes on his chest began to pulsate with the thought of an upcoming battle. He slowly began to tap his halberd along the sand. With each tap it made a slight thud.. thud.. thud.. the beating resembled the heartbeat of those around him. He could almost touch the feeling of the energy around him as he closed his eyes.. It was in their court now - they decided what their future held.



[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Darth Inferno"] [member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Cin'ciri Jurir, Mandalorian and bear, was unutterably pissed. Not because the Sith smorgasbord was in any sense lacking - on the contrary, it boasted a delectable assortment of soufflé and similarly inflated savories - but because polar bears, as a rule, do not enjoy the desert much. On his way down through the gravity well, he'd virtually mainlined electrolytes, enough to make a good fight plausible, but sweat burned his eyes just enough to generate a truly transcendent rage.

The armored Arkudan loped into view of the buffet. With some satisfaction, he broke into a freight train of a run. He'd pick his target once he got closer.

[member="Lord Depravious"][member="Anesia Jy'Vun"][member="Mikhail Shorn"][member="Darth Inferno"][member="Cameron Centurion"]

 

[Hal'kanor]

[member="Cin'ciri Jurir"] was not alone. Beside him, a smaller form emerged. The younger Arkudan was smaller and lighter than his counterpart, but bears were still bears. Feeling the presence of the older one beside him, he used that to guide him to the enemies. Having his first trip off planet be to some sort of armory had been strange, but he hadn't figured out why until now. They were going to fight. Something animal was rising up inside him. Something more primitive, more basic, than even those morsels before him. Rage began to sweep over him, his vision lined with red.

He was simply going to follow Cin'ciri to a target. He wasn't going to think beyond that.

[member="Lord Depravious"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Cameron Centurion"] [member="Darth Inferno"] [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]

 

[300]

[member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"] [member="Lord Depravious"] [member="Cin'ciri Jurir"]

Being ripped through a wall, then another wall, all because he was watching these two go at it, well it wasnt worth the slamming through the building. He landed at the man's feet, and laid there for a moment, catching his breath. He slowly brought himself back up, and looked at the man who had yanked him into this, literally. "Can I help you?" He said nonchalantly. He dusted his arms, and legs off, and popped his neck. His giant hood made his identity impossible to see, it was just a black hole where his face should. Honestly, he didnt have to deal with this childish game Sith Lords' called the Sith Code.

"Nevermind, I am not here to help you." He turned away, and started walking away. If the man tried to that again, he would have his own fun for this. That was till he looked at the man's face across from the one who had attacked him. "Maybe you should stop looking at me like a coward, and stop being coward yourself. He's already called you out, and you're just standing there. It's obvious you could destroy this man who just dragged me through a building."

 

[Lord Depravious]

Lord Depravious took note of the bears charging from a distance.. What an odd occurrence.. Bears in the middle of the desert... No matter, soon they could be of use if they didn't get themselves killed and impaled upon his blade.

Lord Depravious then turned slightly to the man who was pulled through the wall that was now calling him a coward. His obvious attempt to turn him on Mikhail so that he didn't have to deal with him was pitiful. Lord Depravious took one swift step toward 'Darth Inferno', his boots thud through the sand as he attempted to grab the back of the mans head. He was sure that the boy would resist him. As most knights of this day had some how found a way to defy Sith Lords; however, regardless of all of that perhaps this one didn't have a god complex and had a will and want to live. Even should Mikhail wish to save the boy, he couldn't at this time.

As his iron clad hand shot through the air at the back of the mans head he spoke, his words brought pure ice to the hearts of those around here, even in this hellish desert, " You speak of cowardice to me.. I shall let the bears eat you for dinner then.." As he stepped the sand around his boots began to spread and the force began to flow through him - he fully well new now that Mikhail could attack at any moment and thus he readied himself for this possible incoming attack. His hand holding the halberd was kept behind him, rising strategically in a possible defense if he had to spin to quickly launch a counter attack versus the other Sith Lords.

Lord Depravious - before grabbing the back of the mans head thought to himself, respect and honor, i will teach them how to utilize it - even if it must be out of fear.

[member="Darth Inferno"] @Hal'kanor @Cin'ciri Jurir @Mikhail Shorn

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Shorn winced at each wall of his Temple the eavesdropper went through before the punk landed at his feet. Mikhail glared down at him through lattices of his armor, not bothering to respond to Mr. Monologue over there. The eavesdropper started mouthing off almost as soon as he got to his feet.

This prompted a sudden reaction from Halberd Boy, who apparently was fine with Shorn talking smack, but not the other dude. As things started to get violent, Mikhail turned at the sudden influx of some very large life forces. What he saw didn't fully register. Tornadoes, monologuing Sith with glowing bodies and big axes, and now two gigantic, white bears were lumbering across the sands like runaway cargo transports.

"I can't even..."

Shorn turned and started walking back toward his Temple, but stopped, the words of the Monologuing one ringing in his ears.

​Watch your tongue boy.

A glance down showed Mikhail that his arms were quivering.

"Kriff this."

He whirled and extended a hand, palm flat. A Force Push rippled outward, pushing up sand before it in a wall as it blasted outward like a veritable explosion from a bomb, heading straight for Halberd Boy's chest.

[member="Lord Depravious"] [member="Cameron Centurion"] [member="Hal'kanor"] [member="Cin'ciri Jurir"] [member="Darth Inferno"]

 

[300]

[member="Lord Depravious"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"]

Inferno felt a ping in the back of his head, the other Sith Lord had presented his hand forth, and the force came rippling out towards the two. Inferno's quick reaction made him push the Sith Lord holding him by the back of the with a small force push to get them out of the way. He didnt know if worked for the Sith Lord holding him, but it certainly worked for him. He was sent back wards, and landed safely away on his feet. The force push went right by him, causing no harm to him.

He looked at the Sith Lord that had a hold of him. Whether or not he had pushed him out of the way too was unclear, but he did say this. "Tell you what...lets deal with Pushy over here, and then we can settle this between us sir." He turned around to face Shorn, and cocked his head. "TK is all you got? This fine man over here with the Halberd is clearly more skilled then you."

 

[Cameron Centurion]

((OOC: Sorry for the delay))

Cameron's measured steps left soft imprints in the sands of Korriban as he approached his intended destination. By the time he'd drawn to within clear visual range of [member="Lord Depravious"], [member="Darth Inferno"], and [member="Mikhail Shorn"], a great many things had occurred, developed. Silver-green eyes shifted between speakers from a distance as the large Sith stood with his arms folded across his chest. Despite the occasional arched eyebrow and sneer of amusement, Cameron had little reaction to the monologue or any actions that followed.

What did pull his attention was the familiarity of a certain presence rocketing towards their location from overhead. Briefly, the dark-skinned Sith cast his gaze skyward as a thin smirk settled over his features. "Well..." Given his rather recent, continuous exposure to Alina, Cameron could not possibly have mistaken the presence of [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"].

As the interactions of the other three males turned...seemingly aggressive, Cameron lowered his gaze back to the horizon. His left hand rested casually on the leather-wrapped hilt of his Sith Sword, but his grip did not strengthen around the familiar comfort of the weapon. Inhaling deeply, he resigned himself to maintain...awareness of that which was happening. Of all the non-sense that had been said or done thus far, Cameron understood the actions of Shorn most. An insult demanded a response. Shorn elected to respond with the intention to kill. Life was simple like that - you simply made choices. The Sith had been many things over the years, the least of all consistent. There was no roadmap to the perfect Sith. To be Sith was to be a master of the various secrets of the Sith, period. A creature of strength and power, but that was not always conveyed through massive armies, sprawling empires, or flashy powers.

Strength of convinction and the power to put that conviction into action was all that truly mattered...whether you were Sith, Jedi, or any other. Baby Sith these days... They all watched too much holovision.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

Nobility. Unity. Sith. Honor. The words were not meant to be strung together. Unless...

"Unless it is for a noose," half-laughing, half-snorting, the woman threw the entirety of her frame into the confines of the seat.

"This is madness, Anesia," the pilot, while honest in his assessment, laced no fear in his words. He did not so much as look at her, his pale blue eyes set on the coordinates. The Divinus dove, its carcass a faded mask of gray against the bright aura of Korriban's atmosphere and birthed, within its own right, in to the skies. Skies that matched the appearance of the Corellian shuttle as it rode the plumes of dust clouds and finally settled not far from The Valley.

Finally, she responded and stood, hand trailing the top of the cabin, "I was born of it, Watson." A billowy, traditional hood was cast over head then, both masking her visage and protecting it.

With a flourish of obsidian sleeves and silent footsteps, the Sith left her captain to her ship and descended down the ramp so swiftly dropped for her arrival. Tell me of this perfection, my lord [[member="Lord Depravious"]], even through the art of telepathy her voice was sweet, wickedly low, and dripped like honey from a comb. Anesia continued their conversation, I do so wish to know, booted feet crunching over the rubble, putting her nearer to what action lie ahead. Entire worlds will burn, she corrected after a time, THAT is how you cleanse.

A smile so deep, so passionate it could have burned an image into the ancient's head adorned her pretty mouth. But non, this monster held back and instead used the power already surrounding her being; such that was just given for the taking if one chose to. Why use mine, when I can use yours? Suits me just fine, loves. Ferrius continued until shapeless forms in the distance became distinct and she appeared in every sense to be taking a stroll - as if the Valley were a park and the inhabitants there... for her entertainment.

There was no grand entrance, no show of power. It was merely two emeralds observing and Anesia eventually came to still, peering over the players with intrigue. The only notable movement was that of her cloak being ruffled by the makeshift wind and the light twitch of porcelain fingers. Those enchanted eyes moved from one to the other, lingering on [member="Cameron Centurion"], then to [member="Mikhail Shorn"] where they narrowed in disbelief... perhaps shock.

"How about that." Interesting.

Join me. Join me. Join me.​

Join you? What is in it for me? What can you possibly offer me... that I do not already have?


Then, there were polar bears. Could this get anymore exotic?

[member="Darth Inferno"] | [member="Hal'kanor"] | [member="Cin'ciri Jurir"]​

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Cin salivated at the target-rich environment. Soufflé was the word -- well, except for [member="Mikhail Shorn"], who struck him offhand as the sort of Sith that got stuck between your teeth like a splinter of bone.

His estimation of the battlefield suggested that the highest likelihood of nibbles involved whoever had just taken a serious telekinetic shockwave. [member="Lord Depravious"] became his target, by virtue of being the target of the first attack Cin could see. Still at a run, he growled to [member="Hal'kanor"], the younger bear who ran alongside him, and assigned him the target of [member="Darth Inferno"], not only because he looked somewhat worse for wear but because of that yapping.

Cin's freight-train run accelerated to a flat-out sprint, nearly eight hundred kilos of armored bear -- as tall at the shoulder as most of these humanoids -- aiming to smash into Depravious' right side while the Sith Lord was occupied with Shorn.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The ancient malice of the planet seemed to smile at them all, like a lazy giant deep in slumber having a dream about eating humans. The air grew thick with the sickly-sweet fumes of the Dark Side, stoked by the crackling presences of the growing group. Within the eddy of maleficence, Mikhail Shorn inhaled deeply. Unadulterated power suffused his being and he felt a kind of giddy excitement ripple through him.

It had been too long since he'd last fought a real struggle, not the one-sided affair with Salem or the backhanding he and three others gave Circe. No, he meant a genuine, raw fight, where he could let loose and damn the consequences. A hard knot of anger formed in his stomach. He longed to satisfy that rage.

He stood in front of [member="Darth Inferno"], fists clenched. Wide blue eyes stared with utter vitriol at the pair of complete idiots, expression of disgusted rage hidden behind his helmet. Even the arrival of the two lumbering polar bears barely affected Mikhail's mood, aside from ratcheting his level of annoyance up to eleven. He was in a killing mood... and he knew just the thing to help it.

Images of breaking their bodies with his bare hands floated tantalizingly through his mind. In an instant, he was transported back to a more savage time in his life, when every moment was a test of survival.

He'd fled to the Sith Empire - Moridin's Empire - after an accidental murder. He thought the Sith would teach him how to control his powers, but they'd done so much more. They turned him into a kriffing monster, a murderer, a sadist, or maybe it had all been there before. Either way, they slapped the tools into his hands and then shoved him into the galaxy. He'd killed... so many. If he tried to remember it all at once the tidal wave of regret would paralyze him. Instead, he bottled it up, pretended like it didn't exist. He masked his inner rot with a drywall charade of confidence and nonchalance. But these two bozos were peeling away at that drywall, exposing the monster of mercurial rage that Shorn kept hidden behind cold blue eyes.

The sort of arrogance that rolled from Halberd Boy and Company made him exactly the kind of Sith that Shorn hated most. Sith so obsessed with being the perfect Sith that they looked down on all others, just because they thought following some millennia old code on "Proper Dress Styles of Dark Lords" made them better. The knot in his gut tightened as the images of throttling the life out of the two became more vivid.

Whatever Halberd Boy had in store was ready to be received by Shorn, but more than likely he was busy dealing with a polar-bear sized problem as it's also now to be assumed that the Force Push just made everyone giggle a little.

Mikhail lifted one hand toward [member="Lord Depravious"] and the other hand toward the eavesdropper, daring to make dreams a reality. A small ball bearing, no larger than a knuckle joint, levitated from a pouch at his belt. He whipped it through the air, accelerating the phrik bearing to railgun speeds capable of piercing durasteel and putting large dents in beskar. The ball hummed straight for Depravious' chest. Trying to redirect it would be a futile attempt on two fronts. Firstly, it would hit Depravious before the supposed Sith Lord could do so much as blink. Secondly, Shorn kept a telekinetic guiding hand on it the whole way. Even if it failed to puncture any physical armor surprises that the Sith had in store, the mere kinetic impact alone could shatter ribs and leave internal bleeding.

Good luck.

Meanwhile, Mikhail wrapped his own willpower like a vicegrip around [member="Darth Inferno"]'s tibias. For those without innate knowledge of anatomy, they are the load-bearing bones in the calf. The ones that you really don't want broken.

"You should have kept walking when you had legs."

Then his fingers curled into a fist and he clamped down with all his telekinetic prowess on the Dark Sider's legs amid a surge of stygian might, willing them to bend and bow and splinter like dry wood beneath his crushing strength. It was with this same power that he'd shattered the legs of the likes of Jared Ovmar and Darth Ferus. Both Sith Lords. Both more powerful than this paltry offering.

It was a small thing, quickly done, and as simple as squeezing the juice from an orange.

[member="Cameron Centurion"] [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"] [member="Cin'ciri Jurir"] [member="Hal'kanor"]

 

[Lord Depravious]

((Wow a lot to catch up with - haha Sorry for the delay. You lied to me Mikhail! You edited your post from what i originally saw! ))

As Lord Depravious was blasted backwards from the smaller force push of the Knight he grimaced.. They boy had helped him for whatever it was worth. And even though they woman in his head twinged his curiosity she could be dealt with and spoken to once Mikhail Shorn's blood lie splattered on the ground and the bears savor every moment of eating the blood of a second rate Sith Lord.

As Depravious landed along the sand he was most definitely sure of what Mikhail would do by launching an attack. While he wasn't sure of the direct attack it would obviously involve Telekinesis. Predictable little pawn this Sith Lord was. Immediately Lord Depravious slammed his hands into the ground, and before Mikhail was able to pull the phirk marble out of his pocket a wall of sand arose around Lord Depravious, no more than two inches thick but coated with the force as Lord Depravious began to manifest the force over it in a force shield. The accelerating bolt would no doubt hit the sand and be lost in the force fortified wall, or bounce off of it.

For a slight moment Lord Depravious licked his lips under his helmet. Battle made his body tingle, his fingers twitch, his muscles tense, it had been so long since he had engaged in battle and this would truly test his powers against a half-wit like Mikhail Shorn who knew nothing of real battle against someone who was his counter-part. He had only faced people who were lesser than him once he had achieved his true power; however, it was now time for him to face someone who was far greater than his equal. Even now in his age Lord Depravious could cut everyone of these young brats down; however, he enjoyed playing with his meal before supper time.

As Lord Depravious emerged in a split second the runes from his chest began to pulsate once more, this time the force manifested in them and Lord Depravious extended an arm outwards to both the polar bear running and to Mikhail Shorn. As his emotions and excitement manifested in the lowest pits of his stomach and heart the arcane energy shot outwards in the form of a bolt of hatred to both Mikhail Shorn and the polar bear. Both on opposite ends of him; however, Lord Depravious kept his aim true.

Shorn had thought that his "bullet" was fast - try dodging a lighting bolt more powerful than anything he had most likely experienced in this natural world. More than likely both of them would find some futile attempt at dodging when more than likely Shorn was the only one who could viably absorb or drain that kind of raw power without taking a direct hit from it - even then it would be a lot for him to swallow. But for both Lord Depravious had something else in store should they live through the bolts of hatred he had been manifesting over years. You see for someone like Shorn, Lord Depravious actually hoped he would find some way to defend the extreme power, for he had something much worse in store for him.

As the bolts of hatred left Lord Depravious' body and the crimson bolts of lighting ripped through the air as if it were nothing more than paper with a laser, Lord Depravious immediately slammed his hands together. His power was beginning to manifest more and more now with his excitement, and this was simply a warm up. As his hands came together he whispered to himself, "Shaer Porlysis Yael" to those not adept in the force it would seem that he only had power flowing around him and perhaps a slight wind - but to those quite adept in the force; which only seemed to be the three other Sith Lords, they would know exaclty the technique he was using. The waves of darkness began to roar as if a thousand lions had come roaring across the desert - along side the polar bears of course - any of those caught off guard by this spell, or defending other attacks would more than likely fall to their knees in sheer agony and fear.


'Good luck'


[member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Cameron Centurion"] [member="Cin'ciri Jurir"] @Anesia Jy'Vun