Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Upon the Anvil of Sacrifice

✠ Draconis Nihilus Indomitus ✠

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LORD INDOMITUS
Through Fire and Blood.
Through Justice and Strength.


Da'Razel Da'Razel

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Rise of the Octarchy
Sev Tok | Anvil | Catacombs | Chamber of Mirrors
A Week Ago


The red-yellow robed figure stood with its arms spread, in each of the four hands it held a dagger, blood dripping from their blades. Clawed fingers with too many joints clenched the weapons as it spread its arms even further, forming an almost perfect X with them. Around it sat four robed figures, all on their knees, all with their heads bowed, all with holes in their chests where their hearts would be. All dead.

In two concentric circles stood more acolytes of the Rauswas Mora, the cult of the Red Sun, the worshippers of the Iron King. They chanted in an ancient Sith tongue that was a regional as it was dead to even the most educated scholars. Through them the Dark side pulsed, the blood from the sacrifices running across a carefully crafted labyrinth carved into the floor itself. Its pulsated with their chanting. The further it spread, the more it pulsated.

From the center figure the chant changed, it grew louder, wilder, more savage. The circles responded. Blood started to run from their noses, some spat thick-clotted blood while trying to enunciate the ritual. The Bogan swept through the Chamber of Mirrors like a wave from a stone dropped into still water. It expanded as smoothly and calmly as it could, a stark contrast to the effects it had to the real world.

It shattered bones, turned intestants into mush, fried brains and left nothing but smoking corpses of the choir of Acolytes and with it, it tore open reality itself.

+ + +

Since many months the Rauswas Wora had been recruiting, running from door to door in the poorest of regions of space, undercities, colonies and worse, to find willing individuals that did not ask too many questions in exchange for solid currency. A cult, an awakening that was spreading after the Sundering Dawn, hit the Galaxy. Rumours, not much more than far cries of distant whispers paired with reports of extreme violence randomly erupting. Rooms with mutilated corpses had been found here and there, the educated eye would see ritualistic backgrounds even though it would not easily be connected.

In truth the Rauswas Wora had established eight sites, eight Chambers of Mirrors, mirroring each other, where they prepared to commence a ritual that was just the beginning of their plan to return the ancient Sith Lord Darth Asmodean, also known as the Iron King, back from Chaos. Tearing a hole into the Force planes, from reality to Chaos, for any tormented soul to step through and take revenge on what had caused their downfall, to tear real space from its stable self and merge it with the planes of the Nether and Chaos.

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Sev Tok | Anvil | Landing Platform

Imperius exited the Vehemence with thunderous steps, arriving on the landing platform where He was greeted by the kneeling Knight Questor who rose right after her kneefall and looked up at the Pureblood. Behind him a group of Knights exited the shuttle as well, their armor mirroring His own, though less elaborate. They spread out behind and even though relaxed looking, secured and covered the platform while their Lord spoke to the woman.

Her report was brief. Knight Questors nominally belong to the Mortis Chamber but are completely detached from the martial operations of the Legion. They are eyes and ears, shadows that roam the Galaxy to see and hear, to witness and prepare, to report and observe. They are directly reporting to Imperius' staff and it is rare that He skips their reports. Now He was made aware of the workings of a cult that apparently was worth of the attention of the ancient Zakuulan.

Expressionless He listened how the female Knight elaborated on the ritual killings, mass murders and interrogation results she had uncovered. Imperius considered the information laid out before Him. The fact that He was alive when the deceased Sith Lord roamed and ravaged did not escape His attention, He remembered, just barely, this part of His life as a very distant pain and shroud of emotions.

Whatever they did, they had to be stopped. It was either senseless slaughter or indeed dangerous for, if not for the Galaxy, for local areas and planets. He had fought to defend this place against the Bryn'adûl. He would not let it fall to some murdermongering fanatics.

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