Through Fields of Gold, and Valleys of Death

[Lief]

Exocron​

Beauty was inevitable.

Whether a sharp breeze kicked up leaves and blossoms into the air, or rain whetted flagstones, it could be found; in the miracle of birth, and the humblest of lives, it was present. In such all could agree.

But what so few admitted was the beauty which could be found in the more perverse aspects of the Galaxy. In the wilting of a delicate flower, shriveled as it would when uncared for, in the decaying of flesh both live and dead.

It was the latter that gave him most pause, that had him contemplating beauty at its core. Golden locks and porcelain skin would, over time, become disheveled - nothing lasted forever - and only the end was inevitable. Where others saw with disgust disease and suffering, Lazareth could see only nature's own canvas of colour.

They claimed nature was beautiful, yet they dismissed such a crucial part of it... No more.

He had left a trail across the Galaxy, a wake of destruction and putrid satisfaction, snaking its way from Levia. And now he was here.

So maybe he was no versatile explorer, but what did that matter to a Creator, to a God?

He had seen enough, done enough, and now it was time to reap the rewards. For there were those that his pestilent self could not wholly devour, who had not fully succumbed to the disease which writhed within him.

And it was here, amidst this wash of greenery, that he sought his most prized creation.

[ [member='Aerico'] ]​

 

[Connor Harrison]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3nDw2Fk8tuY

Aerico knew the day would some when the Scourge would come out of the shadows.

Their disease would spread and infect those weak enough to lose the fight against it, and when it was all said and done, they would emerge like the parasites they are. Led by one man. The freak.

Living in the hovel he had called a prison on Utapau, he expected to return one day to find Lazareth waiting, face decaying and pocketed with blisters and rotten flesh – face Aerico wanted to hide away behind the mask. But on his return from the chance encounter with [member="Briga Tiin"] and her visions of a future that teased something great, he found only a note impaled through a cracked mirror.

Lazareth had returned, and left him a trail to Exocron and the place where all Gods wanted to feel needed – a chapel, or church, or place of worship.

- - - - - - - - - -

Rintatta City Ruins
Exocron, Kathol Sector​

Not a planet ravaged by natural disaster, disease or war, but a planet ripe to destroy. Fresh with greenery and nature, Aerico had the pilot from Utapau take him to the largest chapel on the planet, in Rintatta City.

It was stories high, but each one was now collapsed due to weathering, and so outside it stood a might building peeking from the trees in the clearing, but inside it was a tomb where Mother Nature had claimed. All windows were gone, and broken tiles and brickwork allowed the light and creatures in from outside.

Dressed in his black attire, the greatcoat around him covering the stiletto blade, Aercio looked up at the huge building as the pilot stayed behind in the small ship, something Aerico had made clear to obey in a long standing deal to be piloted around the system.

Walking slowly, he looked around and saw no sign of the Scourge anywhere. But, like they did years before, they would probably be hiding like cowards and waiting for their prey. Only Aerico was more than their prey; he was above them. He was a survivor, and he would make them all pay for what they did.

Taking a couple of deep breaths in, the masked man walked forward and his thoughts surprisingly turned to that of [member="Valae Kitra"] – his self-proclaimed Angel of Iego. Now back with her Silver Sanctum, it was the likes of her who was driving him to try and be more in control of his destiny, and to fight those who had burnt him. Once this vengeance had been served, he would return for her and free her from the shackles of the blind Jedi.

Up ahead, outside the chapel in the long grass, stood a lone figure. It was [member=Lazareth] – that broken man was someone Aerico would always recognise. He stopped, cocking his head slightly to take the sight in. Was he alone?

”LAZARETH!”

All the better for it, because the kill would be more beautiful if it was done in such perfect surroundings just between the two of them. This would be HIS day.

 

[Lief]

Rintatta, it was said, had once been a most magnificent haunting; full of bright stone and faith, it had been an idealistic City where population boomed and aspirations soared. Now naught remained but ruins. Nature had its way of doing that, of balancing things out, which amused Lazareth to no end.

All this talk of the Force being good, serene... Didn't they ever stop to think that chaos was just as big a part of nature's plan? Beauty, health, prosperity... This was just one side of a many faceted dice.

Stumbling through the ancient chapel, once a testimony to the people's faith, the haggard being turned his gaze skyward and peered through the shattered ceiling to the heavens above. There were corpses beneath the rubble, mostly skeletal but some still retained decayed flesh - preserved by whatever was covering them.

He could feel them, despite their deadened state. They called to him.

And he answered with a delicate touch to one of their craniums. He half expected the yellowed bone to crumble under his touch, but such things did not work like that. It was still as sturdy as it had been during the fellow's living years.

So much death and carnage amidst what still remained a natural beauty. The planet had taken over this building, as it had the others in the City, vines snaked up along walls and bright flowers claimed the chapel as their own.

It was magnificent. Truly it was.

But the tranquility would not remain, for in that instance a new presence brewed and a harsh voice lashed out against the silence. His name was not something he was used to hearing. So few knew of it, so few bothered to ask for it, bothered to speak to him.

The voice, though. That was one he recognized.

It was the survivor...

Oh, there would be fun this day.

Turning on his heel, surprisingly deft considering how slumped over he had previously appeared, Lazareth lifted both hands and swiftly dropped the hood of his cloak. Sickly eyes fell upon his creation, and a grim smile stretched at his cracked lips.

"Aerico... Good of you to return at last."

His fingers trailed against another skull whose body was bent over the banister he was standing alongside. It was a delicate motion, almost a caress. And for a moment his eyes darkened.

[member="Aerico"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

His voice was just like it had been in the caverns. It sounded as flaky and fragile as he, but knew it was the voice of nightmares. Lazareth looked weaker than Aerico remembered, but he didn’t care. He walked along the chapel, through the short grass with his gaze set on the man who has caused so much misery to him.

Nearing him, Aerico saw the face of a diseased, broken man and it was just as disgusting as he remembered it when it was pushed up to his face after years of suffering.

”What are you doing here.”

It wasn’t a question.

”You have NOTHING left. Nobody to hurt anymore. You are NOTHING.”

Aerico burned his eyes into the Scourge leader.

[member="Lazareth"]

 

[Rocu]

"...Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I didn't want to steal, Lord, but I had no choice. I was so hungry. Please forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..."

Rocu's continuous, whispery ruminations sounded softly in the high rafters as he prayed fervently, clutching his cross necklace. He was deep in the shadows of the high supports of the run down chapel. His entire body became invisible whenever he was in the shadows. If one were to look up with naked eyes, they would see nothing, but they would hear the whispers. That was, until, Rocu heard the steps of feet. Who would be here in this lonesome place? ([member="Lazareth"])

He stopped his ruminations at the first sounds of life. Then, the rafters would creak ever so slightly as he shifted around to watch the solemn man. A yell from outside. He deftly slithered and slid from rafter to rafter, sticking to the shadows, remaining invisible. He went to the closest window and peered out at the man. There was enough ambient light that, should [member="Aerico"] look up, he'd spot a glowing pair of eyes staring down at him, but nothing else.

 

[Lief]

Lazareth chuckled as his second creation stepped forward, eyes alight with a burning fury. One day he would know the gift he had been given, one day...

"Au contraire, my reluctant companion, what are you doing here?"

Arms lifted in recognition of the space around them, a wicked little grin stretching across his boil-ridden face.

"This is my domain, child. You sought me out, to what? To slay me? To avenge yourself, and all those marred by the gift I bring? Do you believe it to be a coincidence that I'm riddled with pestilence?"

Another laugh, this time with a far more malicious undertone, broke through the room. His hand settled back upon the skull of the departed whose back was bent over the banister rail.

"I do the will of the Force, the will of nature itself. Can you say the same, boy? You who resist what is natural, in favour of aesthetics? You were nothing, Roman. And I made you something great."

He could hear the rat in the rafters, and turned his sickly gaze skyward in acknowledgement.

"It appears we have a witness for this little facade... Your presence here may have done more harm than good, Aerico."

Almost caressing the skull at this point, Lazareth flexed his fingers and felt the Force pulsate down along the tips toward what remained of a once proud people.

"Join me, and together we will bring true beauty to the world... We will do the will of the Force, and spread nature's most intrinsic gift."

Or don't. Either way, Lazareth would further his agenda here this day.

[member='Aerico'] [member='Rocu']

 

[Connor Harrison]

Looking up towards where Lars had, towards the unknown figure of [member=Rocu], he used it as a moment to process what the deluded Scourge prophet had rattled off.

”He can do what he wants. I thought he was your lap-dog.”

He kept walking, feeling somewhat safe behind the mask and his greatcoat, a mild comfort but feeling in much greater shape and state of mind than the plague bearer.

”Gift? GIFT? You took everything from me for no reason and left me with THIS!” He stabbed to his mask with a finger. ”You brought me nothing but pain. Pain and suffering. And you want me to stand by you? I’ve spent my days looking for you, one by one finding those with the same infection you left them with.”

Aerico was close now to see each weeping dimple, each open sore and all the cracked flesh. To think he had the same under the mask didn’t bear thinking about. He could cut Lars as much as he wanted, and he doubt anyone would notice with the state he looked at the moment in life.

”Accept your death and I will make it swift. Your Scourge has abandoned you. You have nothing left to carry on your dream.”

His fingers tensed into a fist, well aware that the stiletto was by his side.

[member=Lazareth]

 

[Rocu]

[member="Lazareth"] | [member="Aerico"]​

Rocu remained still and reclusive from the conflict...at least, for now. Their interaction was as much an oddity to him as he was for them. He had no quarrel with them, besides the obviously diseased one's disposition. He muttered and whispered to himself as he ruminated over the goings-on.

"Plague. Diseased. Half of a face. Half of a man. Two twisted creations fighting over life. Natural? Not natural. Fire is good. Wind is good. Landslides are good. Nature at work. Plagues unnatural. Work of men. Men working against nature. Man fighting man. Man killing man. Man changing man. Man corrupting nature. Must stop. Can't touch, though...Someone else will stop?"