Disciple of Faith
It would seem that Darth Nefaron had underestimated her.
He expected an acolyte, a weak apprentice to an enemy he thought beneath him.
What he faced now was something beyond what he thought her to be. And her amusement only grew the deeper his hatred for her became. She fed off of his emotions like a leech as he poured such powerful emotions into the Dark Side. But even while she was simply playing with him, she realized something herself: the death and pain and horror that she wrought upon his own servants, was fueling him as well. She was, inadvertently, making her foe stronger the longer they clashed.
It wasn’t a failure on her part - but an observation to learn from for the next time they crossed paths. And she knew they would; Sith Lords like Nefaron were too bound up in their petty hatred to simply just walk away. No…he would come after her, time and time again.
No doubt, in a vain attempt to try and show the galaxy his superiority over her. The thought made her laugh. He was strong, there was no doubt about that - but she hadn’t even tapped into the true depths of her own power and strength. Quite frankly, Darth Nefaron didn’t deserve her best and greatest.
Not yet at least.
Revna continued to cut down undead after undead, casually and almost joyfully. The Dread Lords that she had summoned were slaughtering all in their pathway, though sparing the Vahlan pirates per her command. Soon, Nefaron’s forces began to crack and falter, and their resolve weakened when they beheld their own Lord seem to falter as well.
Sensing that the tide was turning against him, in his own domain, no less, Darth Nefaron tried to speak more foul poison over Revna, blackened spittle and utter corruption practically spewing from him. He was a creature who had embraced the Darkness for what it was and had allowed it to utterly destroy him in return for power. He was the perfect image of what the Dark Side truly did to those who embraced it.
Its corruption could even be seen on Revna’s beautiful face already; blackened veins spreading from her hellfire eyes, staining the sclera like ink. Even the skin on her face had taken on a sort of gray hue…or was it simply a trick of the light?
"I have seen beyond your facade. This false form that you desperately cling to. I know that beast that lives within you."
Perhaps Revna should have felt concern hearing Nefaron’s words; they gave her pause, if only so she could circle closer to him, two creatures bound to the Darkness facing one another. Could he somehow sense the Void within her? Or was he perhaps speaking about something else?
"You will destroy everything you cherish. Happiness will turn to ash upon your lips. At the end, when you lose your tether to sanity, I shall be there to push you over the edge and watch your joy turn to endless annihilation."
Or maybe…he was just trying to buy himself some more time.
Revna smiled, the action cold and utterly devoid of anything that those in her inner circle would recognize.
“Oh my dear Nefaron - of course I will do all these things. It is the way of the Sith….is it not?” she replied back to the Corpse Lord, her voice seeming to carry and slip around and even through him. Perhaps the briefest glimpse to the Lord of Terror that Revna Marr was not all whom she seemed to be.
The Sorceress halted her advance and watched with amusement as the Corpse Lord rose up into the air one more time, tilting her head in her typical manner as if to ponder what sort of trickery he might get up to next. She didn’t have to wait long to find out, however. The ground beneath her began to crack and roll as if some earthquake was taking place. She decided to retreat then, allowing Nefaron to perhaps believe he had won the fight, won the day - while she waited to see what he was up to next.
Screaming erupted from the cracks and fissures. The sound of it assaulted her, and with it came a concussion through the Force. Such anguish and suffering - it was on a scale that would have utterly crippled a Jedi, had they been present. But Revna was no Jedi.
Her Hunger awakened, sensing the myriad of souls and boundless energy that seemed ready to burst forth from underneath his fortress. There was a battle of wills between her and the Void, brief but violent, and she managed to take control of herself and deny the Hunger as it surged its way up through her. She was not going to allow Nefaron to draw out the Void, not like this - and not unless she wanted to unleash it.
As she retreated further away, she watched as a rotten mass of tentacles erupted from the ground, an entity that stank of Sith sorcery and foul alchemy and other dark rituals and art that even she was unaware of. The surge of the power that rippled from it was awe-inspiring, and had the circumstances been different she might have admired the creature borne from Nefaron’s depraved mind. Those who could not exist in the creature’s presence fled in utter terror as the wave of undiluted horror washed over everything.
As the tormented screams rose louder and louder, Revna lifted her burning gaze back to Nefaron; there was no fear in her eyes, only something he might recognize: cruelty and dark amusement.
She watched as tentacles wrapped around him, curious to see what would transpire next. He seemed as if he expected this horrific thing to obey him - but Revna was wise enough to know that Sithspawn and such creations could be fickle, even towards their creators and masters.
Sure enough, his triumphant laughter turned, no doubt, to surprise as one of the tentacles flung him from the sky and into the fortress tower, burying him in rubble.
Now it was Revna’s turn to chuckle darkly. "Oh how humilating. You can't even control your own beasty. What a shame..." the little raven haired Sith woman said with a soft tsk, more to herself than to anyone else.
She watched a moment longer, before she turned to leave, leaving Darth Nefaron where he was to wrangle his own creation back to whatever holding place he had summoned it from. No doubt he would learn from this moment and grow from it, and perhaps next time he would be a true challenge for her.
He expected an acolyte, a weak apprentice to an enemy he thought beneath him.
What he faced now was something beyond what he thought her to be. And her amusement only grew the deeper his hatred for her became. She fed off of his emotions like a leech as he poured such powerful emotions into the Dark Side. But even while she was simply playing with him, she realized something herself: the death and pain and horror that she wrought upon his own servants, was fueling him as well. She was, inadvertently, making her foe stronger the longer they clashed.
It wasn’t a failure on her part - but an observation to learn from for the next time they crossed paths. And she knew they would; Sith Lords like Nefaron were too bound up in their petty hatred to simply just walk away. No…he would come after her, time and time again.
No doubt, in a vain attempt to try and show the galaxy his superiority over her. The thought made her laugh. He was strong, there was no doubt about that - but she hadn’t even tapped into the true depths of her own power and strength. Quite frankly, Darth Nefaron didn’t deserve her best and greatest.
Not yet at least.
Revna continued to cut down undead after undead, casually and almost joyfully. The Dread Lords that she had summoned were slaughtering all in their pathway, though sparing the Vahlan pirates per her command. Soon, Nefaron’s forces began to crack and falter, and their resolve weakened when they beheld their own Lord seem to falter as well.
Sensing that the tide was turning against him, in his own domain, no less, Darth Nefaron tried to speak more foul poison over Revna, blackened spittle and utter corruption practically spewing from him. He was a creature who had embraced the Darkness for what it was and had allowed it to utterly destroy him in return for power. He was the perfect image of what the Dark Side truly did to those who embraced it.
Its corruption could even be seen on Revna’s beautiful face already; blackened veins spreading from her hellfire eyes, staining the sclera like ink. Even the skin on her face had taken on a sort of gray hue…or was it simply a trick of the light?
"I have seen beyond your facade. This false form that you desperately cling to. I know that beast that lives within you."
Perhaps Revna should have felt concern hearing Nefaron’s words; they gave her pause, if only so she could circle closer to him, two creatures bound to the Darkness facing one another. Could he somehow sense the Void within her? Or was he perhaps speaking about something else?
"You will destroy everything you cherish. Happiness will turn to ash upon your lips. At the end, when you lose your tether to sanity, I shall be there to push you over the edge and watch your joy turn to endless annihilation."
Or maybe…he was just trying to buy himself some more time.
Revna smiled, the action cold and utterly devoid of anything that those in her inner circle would recognize.
“Oh my dear Nefaron - of course I will do all these things. It is the way of the Sith….is it not?” she replied back to the Corpse Lord, her voice seeming to carry and slip around and even through him. Perhaps the briefest glimpse to the Lord of Terror that Revna Marr was not all whom she seemed to be.
The Sorceress halted her advance and watched with amusement as the Corpse Lord rose up into the air one more time, tilting her head in her typical manner as if to ponder what sort of trickery he might get up to next. She didn’t have to wait long to find out, however. The ground beneath her began to crack and roll as if some earthquake was taking place. She decided to retreat then, allowing Nefaron to perhaps believe he had won the fight, won the day - while she waited to see what he was up to next.
Screaming erupted from the cracks and fissures. The sound of it assaulted her, and with it came a concussion through the Force. Such anguish and suffering - it was on a scale that would have utterly crippled a Jedi, had they been present. But Revna was no Jedi.
Her Hunger awakened, sensing the myriad of souls and boundless energy that seemed ready to burst forth from underneath his fortress. There was a battle of wills between her and the Void, brief but violent, and she managed to take control of herself and deny the Hunger as it surged its way up through her. She was not going to allow Nefaron to draw out the Void, not like this - and not unless she wanted to unleash it.
As she retreated further away, she watched as a rotten mass of tentacles erupted from the ground, an entity that stank of Sith sorcery and foul alchemy and other dark rituals and art that even she was unaware of. The surge of the power that rippled from it was awe-inspiring, and had the circumstances been different she might have admired the creature borne from Nefaron’s depraved mind. Those who could not exist in the creature’s presence fled in utter terror as the wave of undiluted horror washed over everything.
As the tormented screams rose louder and louder, Revna lifted her burning gaze back to Nefaron; there was no fear in her eyes, only something he might recognize: cruelty and dark amusement.
She watched as tentacles wrapped around him, curious to see what would transpire next. He seemed as if he expected this horrific thing to obey him - but Revna was wise enough to know that Sithspawn and such creations could be fickle, even towards their creators and masters.
Sure enough, his triumphant laughter turned, no doubt, to surprise as one of the tentacles flung him from the sky and into the fortress tower, burying him in rubble.
Now it was Revna’s turn to chuckle darkly. "Oh how humilating. You can't even control your own beasty. What a shame..." the little raven haired Sith woman said with a soft tsk, more to herself than to anyone else.
She watched a moment longer, before she turned to leave, leaving Darth Nefaron where he was to wrangle his own creation back to whatever holding place he had summoned it from. No doubt he would learn from this moment and grow from it, and perhaps next time he would be a true challenge for her.
[EXIT]