What men was not meant to know

[Darth Abyss]

Malachor, The Tainted City - Scrap Gallery

The war had come to an end, the fires had faded and the dead were buried below Malachor's cursed and broken surface. Through violence and hardship the people of the Free Cities had made an example of their strength. The Resurgent Empire had pushed them into a corner but they never retreated, they never surrendered. This unbroken will that the unchained of the Tainted City had carried into battle had allowed Malachor's Prophet, the dark, twisted entity known to some as the Mindeater, to others as Darth Abyss, to negotiate with their enemy. Many had been lost, but in the end Malachor stood as free as they day the people had raised their makeshift cities from the dirt.

Now that the time of war and rebellion was over the people had to deal with the fallout that followed. Large parts of the city had been heavily damaged during the various skirmishes during the siege of Malachor, leaving the people to build them once more. The people of the Free Cities were famous for their inventiveness, for their skill to make something out of nothing, but even they struggled to repair what been ruined into nothing but broken steel and scattered ash.

Darth Abyss rarely made his presence in the cities publicly known, it was enough that his people knew that their dark guardian was lurking somewhere in the shadows, hiding and hunting those that defied the judgement of his all seeing eye. Yet he wasn't simply a leader, or a leader at all, but rather a symbol. A tainted abomination that watched over them for reasons unclear to common minds. His people had to know that his hand was still upon them, pulling the strings so Malachor would stand strong, now and forever.

For a few hours he had overseen the work of his people, the eldritch husk silently watching as his cities slowly returned into their former state. It would take weeks, maybe months until the work would be finished, and for the day he had fulfilled his duty. The people of Malachor wouldn't forget him for quite a while.

The hollow being now walked through the edges of the Scrap Gallery, the famed art district of the Tainted City. Right at border to Malachor's empty wastelands the damage had reduced the former structures into rubble, and not even the homeless stumbled into the ruins. It was rare to find a part of the Free Cities devoid of any live, but Abyss enjoyed the solitude without the little minds of crawling insects numbing his sight. Like a ghost the husk moved through the eery scenery, the dim light of Malachor's faded sun illuminating the path between the broken sculptures and fallen buildings, his steps leaving no sound at all. His once grey armor was rusted and deformed, like he had just risen from the depths of the black sea. The mask on his face, allowing a small glimpse of insight into the emptiness that waited behind it, towered above the fixed grin formed from sharp teeth, a eternal mockery written on his unmoving face. His figure was obscured by a ragged, black robe, and on his head rested a crown, merely sharp metal pieces and red crystal splitters tied together into an anarchic symbol of knowledge that was not meant to be known to men.

[member="Vereshin"]

 

[Vereshin]

The woman ran nonchalantly by the chipped graffiti of a desolate play area. Watching the flurry of her white dress contrast sharply against melancholy hues, Vereshin eyed her like a vulture. He walked beneath the shelter of an abandoned building and uttered incantations beneath his breath. Illusions masked his form and concealed him from view. Sequestered ambiance rung over the air, disrupted by no being to taint the roll of silence. Hands folded before his robes, Vereshin paced slowly behind the running female. He watched her stop to cling to a railing and outstretched his hand from his invisible blanket to stroke her hair.

An amassing darkness gathered nearby and Vereshin preened his senses to trace the source of power. The legend of a Sith Lord, void of form, ruled the cities of Malachor and the young sorcerer came searching to analyse the entity. For the moment, the smell of the woman in the white lace distracted his thoughts. Water gathered in his mouth and a layer of sweat formed on the back of his neck in the sweet anticipation. Repressing the fever heating his brow and the emptiness weighing on his stomach, he grabbed the woman's hair and listened to her shriek as he pressed his gaping mouth against her lips.

Every ounce of health, vitality and energy tore from her flailing person. Her fingers and hands gnarled in spasm and coiled into grotesque forms. Eyes translucent, their irises erased. Inky black matter poured from the orifices in her head, staining the hard ground, remnants of blood, polluted and excreted. The maiden's life ceased and the entirety of her soul exited into Vereshin's mouth. Rising, he released the once pretty lady, leaving the repulsive remains on the pavement, no longer a body or a corpse, a husk sucked dry.

Ecstasy. All misery forgotten, all pain erased. Standing upright, intoxicated and infinitely high, Vereshin staggered around the deserted town square and witnessed it. The amassing darkness, the crowned Abyss who ruled the decrepit world. Feeling the Lord's disapproving gaze, the sorcerer raised a sleeve to wipe his mouth and maintained his poise. Black silk fell from his form and cinched at his tiny waist with a belt, a pair of leather gloves folded over the side. For every soul he took, Vereshin grew closer to cheating the chains of the grave.

"I beseech thee, Darth Abyss." Vereshin allowed his Force signature to communicate unmasked. He studied Abyss as incentive, a reminder of what befell him should he fail on quest. "As one who is also corroded by the power of the Dark Side." Power filled the frail scholar from the newly drained victim. For the time being he felt invigorated. Draining individuals was not enough. Vereshin required the means to conduct a ritual on a mass scale. Moving into the center of stone park, he held his poise and stood before the Sith Lord. He sought the authority of Abyss in the first stage of his plan.

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"You took a live that belonged to me. Now I will ask for the same in return."

The disembodied, inhuman voice would simply manifest itself around [member="Vereshin"] echoing like a tainted chorus both in the plane of the force and the actual, physical reality that shrouded the sith sorcerer. At his place of solitude the sith lord reached for the aura that had called for him, that challenged him on his own soil. The little insect would quickly learn that it was a grave mistake to disrespect him openly. Darth Abyss never had been a being of values like respect, honor or loyalty himself but he expected others to at least feign an image of respect towards him, a sign that they understood that he could wipe them out without even lifting a hand.

From his back the sith lord reached for his staff as he slowly closed in on the presence, allowing the wretched sense of dread and hunger that shrouded him to run rampant. Normally he preferred to hide his state of being inside the field of the force, but to those with the gift it could be even more intimidating than his twisted appearance. The staff began to stomp on the ground in a strange rhythm, and the eyes of the skull attached to it began to glow in a ghostly green as words of power were whispered by the eldritch husk.

"Fe've ir armijio mazo tolus, dotacij nun ana pro tave shiris iv tave guduma." ("Near and yet so far, grant me passage through the realm of the dead")

Once the spell manifested around the entity, the fine veil that departed the death from the living was lifted for just a second. The Mindeater was devoured by the void, only to be remembered by reality right behind the little, fragile sith. Even the act of merely traversing the veil was connected with a sense of unease, cold and dread summoned by the unnatural bending of reality.

"Now pay up. I have no patience for debts."

The left of the metal figure performed a complex series of motions, until the small ring around his fourth finger began to glow in a dim red. In front of his hand dark energy began to gather, mirroring a portal into another realm. From it a storm of dark side tendrils emerged, reaching for the other sith. Other than the common spell those tainted tentacles did not bring utter destruction but pain and decay.

 

[Vereshin]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCfRnjhFd8k​

A rising dread built upon within the chest of the little sorcerer. Massing energy surrounded his form as he swallowed the consequences of his mistake. Chest tightening in hypertension, Vereshin held his breath and attempted to shield the mental invasion of the Sith Lord to no avail. The inside of his stomach turned and felt sore. He raised his hands to grasp his head and slowly tried to gather his focus. Knowing any attempt to defend himself would be fruitless, Vereshin splayed his palms and destroyed the particles of light surrounding his form.

Opaque smoke gathered at his feet and swirled around the remainder of his body to conceal him from view. Shape dispersing, the view of him disappeared from the Force while took to his feet and fled. He grabbed the hem of his robes and ran as quickly as his thin legs could carry him, the painted concrete of the scrap gallery passing by his darting vision. Pointed toes scurried through damp alleyways before the lingering gazes of sparsely wandering citizens. Placing a hand beside a fading poster, Vereshin stopped inside the walls of an alley to breathe. The energy of the woman gave him a brief moment of strength, but he was simply too frail to keep running.

The presence of Darth Abyss crept into his mind and he could sense the Sith Lord nearby. Glancing over the onyx glint of his dark ring, Vereshin shielded his Force presence and decided to wander. He desired more than anything to learn from Abyss and affronted him on his own soil. After catching his breath, he walked through the other side of the alleyway while conjuring a plan to subdue the Sith Lord or escape the planet entirely. The motel he stayed in waited several blocks away. He despised space travel and preferred to live on world when moving from one task to the next.

"I am young and afflicted, and I have affronted my Lord in his sanctuary." The air grew cold as Vereshin moved into the street. He wrapped his sleeves around his chest for warmth and spoke to the presence through the Force. "I ask only to learn your ways of the arcane so that I may preserve my form through the Dark Side." Abandoned factories and decrepit warehouses passed Vereshin as he walked. He sorely hoped Abyss did not catch up to him and quickened his stride as the population of the town grew larger. Houses and hotels appeared and lights contrasted against the gray hues and chipped stone.

The Sith stayed in a small building just short of the populace. Graffiti marred the side and refute smoked outside the door. Wary glances passed over his robes and he longed for his civilian clothes to avoid the resentful stares that came with the identity of Sith. Grim interior met his gaze, bare floorboards creaked beneath his feet and lamps flickered against broken plaster. They assumed he was not powerful, or else he would not have chosen a residence so inexpensive.

"Welcome back, Master Sith, your room is ready." The addressing of the reception made him smile involuntarily. Oblivious to the hierarchy of their dark rulers, the common folk addressed all Sith by a higher title. Vereshin felt the heat of a gas fire and made his way up the stairs. A terrible awkwardness gripped him from the sight of his robes and all he wanted was to appear unassuming once more. The odd spice addict and lady of the evening passed his stride and he found the door way to his own room.

Unlocking the door, the Sith slid inside. If anything, the choice of motel might confuse the search of Abyss. A single bedroom and bathroom served as his temporary abode. Books and sheets of mathematics sprawled over a desk. He dressed down to the inner layer of his attire while contemplating his next action. Breathing heavily, fear welled up inside him as he sat on the floor. Crossing his legs in a meditative position, he tried to reach through to the presence one more time.

"I am corrupted and require guidance in the way of the Dark Side." Vereshin relaxed his chest and closed his eyes. He spoke through the Force and tried to contact the mind of Abyss. "Lord of Malachor, I beseech thee." He peeled open one eye to read the clock. The time was five in the evening and the sky began to darken. The choice to remain hidden or run switched in his mind. He already needed to feed himself somehow without being discovered by the haunting presence. "Teach me what men was not meant to know."

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

The Lord of Malachor watched as the brittle sorcerer made his escape, beginning the run for his life with the absurd idea that smoke could obscure the vision of a being that had no eyes. He was born in the shadows, and had lived in them since that day. Nothing escaped his sight, no matter how much dust and darkness tried to mask it. The slightest sound of a heartbeat was enough for him to determiner the movement of beings that had mastered the arts of stealth to an even greater degree than himself. Footsteps of a man, even a small man, were like a beacon to his supernatural perception, allowing him to hunt the living like few besides him.

[member="Vereshin"] clearly lacked endurance, his thin body obviously unable to outrun the Mindeater who's only limit was that of metal. The husk had no need for sleep, for rest or for food beyond knowledge and minds, allowing him to theoretically run until the end of time itself. Yet he made no attempt to use that advantage to easily dispose the little insect and continue on with more pressing business. Other sith thought of fleeing as an act of dishonor, but Abyss could do nothing less then approve of the admittedly foolish attempt to survive made by the thin, pale man. He was a firm believer that it always was better to live another day instead of choosing death out of honor, pride or worst of all arrogance.

Quietly the Mindeater followed the man to the dirty, rundown motel while granting the runner a bit of distance, mostly ignoring the words spoke to him through the force. Many had asked to learn his wisdom, but few earned the right to do so. If the little sith was determine of making the Mindeater into the breaker of his body and soul, into the Blacksmith of his own suffering, then he would have to prove himself beforehand.

No one could escape him on his world, no matter how smart of powerful. His hand had clawed to deeply in the tainted soil of the Free Cities, his endless tendrils reached through every corner, through every home and every mind on the half dead world. Unseen the metal figure walked among the people, slipping into the motel behind another guest, hidden under shadows and deception.

"If men were not meant to know, why should you?"

The door to the room was blasted open, cold, dread and hunger filling the air around the eldritch specter that slowly strode into it. His figure was followed by a twisted laugh, not more than distorted noises layering upon each other. There he stood, the full, wretched might of the Mindeater, his ragged robe drifting behind him at every step, and his left claw risen to point at the little insect that had provoked him in his own realm.

"Those that want to learn will either kneel or be erased."

It was nothing special that a sith asked a lesser kneel, but that wasn't what Abyss truly meant. While another laugh filled the air the dark void of his mind extended, reaching for the little man, not to devour him but to force his body under his own control. He commanded the man to kneel with all his mental might, and the sorcerer submission would be determine by how willingly he surrendered to the influence of his corruption.

 

[Vereshin]

The clock hand moved before Vereshin's twitching eye. Breaking his meditative trance, he watched the door handle slowly turn around. He rose to his feet and swallowed a gulp, backing away slowly to reach for the robe he previously removed. The door burst open and the lights vanished from the seedy hotel room. Darth Abyss gathered his entity and stood in form before the cowering Acolyte. Releasing a gasp, Vereshin fell backwards and gripped his head with his hands. Fear welled up in his chest as he crawled backwards to the foot of the bed. The Sith Lord stopped to question him and Vereshin came to realize that he would be truly dead by now if Abyss intended to be rid of him.

"A Sith is not a mere man, my lord, but an avatar of the Dark Side. It is our will to do what normal men cannot." He managed to stand and grabbed the outer robe off the floor. Embarrassed and invaded, he flung it over his shoulders and wrapped his arms beneath without sliding them through the sleeves. His hose covered feet felt cold and he stood half undressed before the Sith Lord. Abyss' arcane grasp wrapped around Vereshin and the sorcerer felt his dark tendrils breach the limits of his mind. He dropped to his knees and placed his palms on the floor. Dropping his head, he bowed in submission to the superior Sith.

"I require a mentor in the ways of the arcane." Vereshin spoke while he faced the floor. "I kneel before you and ask only to learn."

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

For a moment the empty husk stood motionless, his twisted claw still pointing at the fragile man kneeling before his infernal glory. The words the little insect spoke about the sith rang true within the horrid being, as it was expected of one who had truly ascended to become not more ant not less then an avatar of the dark side in its most pure form. While Abyss would never say it out loud, he was almost impressed with the potential seen in the words and presence of the sith upstart. With time and hard work the brittle sorcerer could be forged into a powerful weapon of his design, a opportunity he happily claimed for himself.

Slowly the claw lowered, as did the grip of Abyss mind on that of [member="Vereshin"]. The man was to small, to easily broken by physical violence to beat absolute submission into him by common means, but he was certain to find a suitable substitut in due time. Once more the strange, ethereal voice of the Mindeater resounded in the small, dirty motel room.

"Then rise apprentice. My time is to valuable to watch you mop the floor."

With a hollow laugh the creature turned around, not even wasting a second to see if his new apprentice would follow him or not. He had felt his ambition, there was no question that the little man would do as he said, like Abyss himself had when he first meet his master.

OOC: Sorry for the wait, RL was busy. Working on a follow up thread right now.