Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,190
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Nov 4, 2022 6:14:19 GMT -8
Lightning lit the black sky in one darkened corner of the world, followed by a resounding crackle and boom of thunder, alerting all to the storm that had swallowed the capital. In a city of millions, one large duracrete structure towered over others, practically a spire for the way its tallest tip extended towards the heavens above. There in the main chamber of governance where the H'kig Theocracy maintained its seat of power and control over the populace, a meeting of the elite priest caste was in session. They were Galandans, one and all, a dozen in total seated in a half circle around a large marble plinth on which sat an oaken dais. Completely windowless, the rounded room was shielded from the hostile weather currently besieging their meagre realm of Rishdale. Each of the near humanoids was dressed humbly, garbed in a singular tunic that ran from their shoulders down to mid-shin, little more than a burlap sac and far less comfortable. In hushed voices they spoke amongst themselves as they awaited the arrival of the one who had called this meeting of leadership, the tyrant terrorsaur that had conquered their world, only to claim a small part of it. While no Galandan had ever traveled to Draggle Rock and returned, they had all heard the rumours from fisherfolk that had sailed close enough to spy that ill favoured isle. Dark happenings and acts of great evil were perpetrated there, all at the whim of its sorcerous master. He had many names, all of them foul. The ewoks of Hanging Moss Village knew him as the Night Spirit, a malevolent deity worshiped by the duloks and that commanded the will of the wicked mantigrues that feasted upon woklings that traveled too far from home. Among the exiled tribe of tusken raiders deep in the forbidden reaches of the desert, he was the Hakusar, the Great Krayt of the Dune Sea. On forgotten Zakuul, he was worshiped as the dragon god Zildrog. On blessed Pzob, holiest of worlds and cradle of the Eye, he was the ever-hungering avatar of Famine. On the former rakatan colony of Xeraxus, plague world and home to pestilential followers of the Reaper Prime, his name was uttered with the blackest derision and deepest scorn. Beneath the volcanic crater of Tawntoom in the subterranean burrows of Dragusblight, the rat-kin that ate away at the roots of thrice cursed Roon praised him as the Feaster of Worlds. In the spice dens of Ryloth, he was commonly referred to as the Sultan of Sin, an amorous lord and purveyor of all manner of perversions. Finally, here on conquered Rishi where the Sith's rule was total and unquestioned, they knew him by the name he had chosen for himself: Dragus, Dark Apothecary of the Sith Eternal.A groaning creak drew the attention of those in attendance as the large brass bordered doors leading into the meeting chamber of assembled priests split apart, heaved to either side by monstrous figures of mutated flesh. Two beasts so tall the yellowed horns thrust up through the crown of their verminous heads scraped the ceiling as they pushed the portal open. Scabrous flesh crisscrossed with corroded sutured staples was stretched over their immensely muscular forms. Beady red eyes glared at the galandans from sunken sockets in their skulls above lean snouts pierced by razor edged tusks that rose from their lowered jaws. They growled as they entered, drizzling froth and stinking steaming ropes of saliva from yellow fangs set in blackened gums. These monstrous creatures were the work of the flesh-crafters of the Pater Mutatis, known as Ranat-Ogres. Fear permeated the room as the gathered holy men looked upon these twisted amalgamations of alchemy and dark science.If only they knew something even viler was only steps behind these rodent freaks, they might have chosen to hold their bladders and bowels in check before the arrival of the diabolical draconian.In the poorly lit hall leading to the circular chamber, a figure split from the shadows that dominated there, seeming to materialize into existence as it entered the room. Curved toe talons carved furrows in the tiled floor, extending up into two clawed feet of the blackest scale. As the eyes of the H'kig priests went higher still, they could see this being was swathed in a robe of red rishi feathers that obscured most of his form. What wasn't concealed was the overlong serpentine tail that swayed back and forth behind the feathered hood of the his attire, capped with a sinister serrated spike of Sith forged iron, glistening with an oily sheen from the fast-acting poison that coated its surface. Scaly hands reached up and hooked clawed fingers around the hood of the robe, pulling it back to expose a saurian visage replete with a wide snout full of rows of razor sharp incisors. Two furious crimson eyes smouldered like hot burning coals beneath heavy scaled lids, peering at the accumulated spiritual representatives of the native religion. Purple wisps of coiling steam vented from narrow nostril slits on the end of his glossy scaled snout, saturating the air with the sour reek of carrion that mingled with his odorous breath that carried the scent of spoiled meat. Standing before the dais, the saurian entity's lips curled upwards in malefic fashion that preceded a slow drawn out hiss to draw the attention of any and all not currently focused on this dreaded beast. A forked tongue emerged from his maw and flicked back and forth in rapid succession, misting the air with crimson flecks that soiled the podium before him with beads of blood."Greetingz, friendz. Pleassse, hold your applaussse." The room remained eerily silent. "I'm sssure you are all quite curiouz az to why I have gathered you all here today. Have no fear, I carry not but blessingz and offer only giftz. You have all been ssselected for a mossst important role, you sssee, for the organization I represssent haz much need of your ssselect servicez. Each of you possesses a tongue of fire, rich with the zealotry of your beliefz, misssguided in morality perhapz but certainly capable of reaching the ear of your parishionerz and inspiring devotion in the massez. I expect thessse talentz will prove mossst ussseful in the tasssk I ssset before you. You are to be..." Interrupted."We will not carry your message of hate." One spoke. "Strike us down if you will, you shall not manipulate the word of H'kig." Said another. "You promised to leave us in peace if we maintained your ruse, yet come the night and your verminous followers prey upon our people!" Came a shout. "What more could you possibly want? You've made slaves of us already!" Snarled a priest through gritted teeth. "Enough! No more! Return to your blighted isle, monster!" They spoke bravely for so fearful a collective group, but their words meant to scold the saurian Sith mostly fell on deaf ears. He would not be returning to Draggle Rock simply because they now, when it was meaningless, chose to take a stand against him. He raised his claws and wagged his talons, motioning for silence as the menacing ranat-ogres behind him stepped forwards and caused the mass before him to become quiet and consumed by fright. Offering another wicked smile, he nodded his snout, appearing to heed their concerns as if they were a serious concern of his."Pleassse, my friendz, there iz no need for sssuch hossstile language. I hear your wordz and shall take action to remedy the illz that trouble your people, for they are now my people az well." This statement drew a few scoffs of derision. "If it iz true the rat-kin have failed to control their appetite then I shall persssonally sssee to it that a martial force iz presssent amongssst the populace to ensssure they are adequately...protected." This caused a few long looks as the priests knew exactly what that meant. None wished for further Sith presence, not after all they had suffered already. "Az for your other concernz, allow me to alleviate your worriez. I want you all to look here."As the words left his snout with a warm spattering of copper rain, his right claw reached into the feathery folds of his robe and withdrew a perfectly smooth orb of ruby red meltmassif. The palantÃr was roughly the size of a shockball, crafted from the special material that allowed for the transmission of telepathic thought. Holding it aloft, the drake lord stroked the device with an invisible caress of naked power, awakening its connection to the malevolent entity that resided deep in the heart of the Pzobian nebula. Stoked flames appeared as a reflection off its flawless surface, burning more intensely by the second as the psychic might of something incredibly powerful reached across time and space, sinking its insidious tendrils into their minds. The priests found that they could not look away, their eyes were affixed to the orb, glossing over as their minds were hollowed out by the Eye's brainwashing abilities. Dragus fed the connection by pouring more of his own power into the device, increasing the ominous glow that illuminated the room like a great blaze. He piggy-backed the connection, extending his will into each of their minds in turn...or perhaps at once, all these events seemed to blend together as the currents of darkside sorcery permeated from the orb.<< Worry not, my mossst preciouz disciplez. Your troublez are material, thuz fleeting az they are temporary. Embrace the Will of the Eye, my Dark Missionariez. You will carry itz messsage to the massez, impart on your parishionerz the importance of following itz edictz az though they were celessstial law. All mussst know to worship the Almighty Ey... >>Before he could finish, the orb in his hand began to crack. It started as a single spiralling line that spiderwebbed until the sphere of meltmassif shattered in his hand, exploding in crystal splinters that caused the scaled scourge to shriek and clutch at his claw. Smoke wafted from his right palm where he had held the device, the scales there were seared and molting. A mechanized whine sounded behind the Great Devourer and he turned to face it, snarling and hissing, furious as a volcanic eruption."RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWRRRRRRR.....oh." Stopped mid-fury by realization, Dragus dropped to a knee and bowed his head before a towering holographic image projected from the back of an eight limbed spider-droid. The mechanical contraption walked into the room, dominating it without effort, for the shadowy figure projected from its back was none other then the Supreme Leader of the Sith Eternal. The dark apothercary's blood boiled like acid in his veins as he prostrated himself before the unquestioned ruler of the organization he was currently in service to. He was angry, but not stupid. The time was not yet to try his hand against this unnatural being he had pledged himself to. But soon, perhaps. As he bowed, the depiction of the Supreme One addressed the gathering, dominating their minds much like the Eye had, but without the need for a palantÃr. He-Who-Hungers was forced to remain kneeling, silenced as the dark entity imparted its own will on the gathering of priests.Allow me to tell you all a tale... Whispered the Supreme One into their minds. ...of Three Emperors.
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Dec 11, 2022 12:47:13 GMT -8
[Editor's note: the story between Dragus and Havok continues on this thread, with this additional post from the "Draggle Rock" location quoted here.]Story continued from here.For Dragus, time seemed to slow as his brother's pasty white hand reached towards him, a single finger threatening to come into contact with his obsidian hued scales. His response was a mixture of emotion, a cross of cold resentment swirled with the lusty yearnings of physical desire. How dare he be touched without invitation! And yet, he wanted to be touched, oh how he curiously craved the crawl of Havok's alabaster digits across his perfect body. His lips trembled, steaming salivations dripping in a warm flowing tide down the chin of his snout, his forked tongue emerging from his forest of incisors to lick across their gleaming yellow surface as he felt the stroke of the Dread Seer's finger for the briefest of moments. At the centre of his being, the great fathomless pit where his soul should be, stirred with a thirst that all the water on Mon Calamari would not be enough to quench. It took all of his self control not to sink his claws into his brother's soft flesh, or to close his terrible jaws around his brothers face and chew through his skull for the tender grey matter within. Brains were a favourite snack of his. Fortunately in that moment of contact, he could feel the Dread Seer impress a vision onto the saurian Sith's scattered mind, distracting his senses from the physical present. Dragus closed his eyes and allowed his mind to be led on whatever journey his brother intended. When he opened his blood red orbs, they came to linger on Havok meditating in the temple. For his part, the Hungering One was just a spectator in these events, watching through a proverbial window into the Seer's recollection of the past. However, a vision was just a dream of another sort, and dreams were something the fiendish Famine Lord was all too familiar with. From behind the transparent window into his brother's troubled memories, the scaly figure of the Great Devourer began to shift and change. His arms retracted up into the sleeves of his robe and his legs seemed to merge together, blending into his tail as his body elongated and took on the shape of a great serpent. The hood of his robe joined with his glossy scales to form the head of a cobra, with smouldering eyes and a large snout full of two glistening fangs. Taking on the same form as his astral projection of self, the great serpent form of the mad drake exhaled a sulphuric breath of poison smoke from two long nostril slits, fogging up the window until it began to blister and peel. Slithering forwards, Dragus penetrated the previously assumed impermeable barrier and entered the vision, not a spectator any longer but now a true participant.From the shadows he watched with slit eyes full of blood, his senses tingling as the Seer was set upon by invaders that had breached the temple catacombs, possessed by a desire to purify the wellspring of darkness that fueled the unnatural powers of the High Lords of the Eye. Dragus was content to observe as Havok dispatched them, though when one came near the dark corner the serpent remained coiled in, he couldn't help but slip from the shadows and sink his sword length fangs into the invaders back. Poison pumped through the recollected invaders veins until his body burst like an overinflated bladder, spilling congealed jelly from every orifice as the coagulants in the serpent's venom turned his vitae to a solid. The fangs came free in a brief wet spray before the hooded cobra opened its massive maw and swallowed the mental apparition whole, devouring them in a single quiet gulp. He was uncertain if his tampering would effect Havok at all. This was a vision purposefully projected by his brother, these events had already happened, or so he was led to believe. Though a curious part of him wondered if his playful alterations would change the way the Seer recalled those events the next time he thought on them. Either way, the mad drake intended to have his fun. The great serpent's crimson orbs went wide with alarm as he found himself drawn into the maelstrom of time behind Havok, bound to his brother as the vision followed its leading character.He watched his brother's confusion and agony, licking his lips as Havok practised dark rituals and committed all manner of despicable act, all in a hopeless attempt to draw an explanation from the aether and the Eye as to what had happened. Havok's suffering was a savory delicacy that He-Who-Hungers could not restrain himself from. As the Seer knelt in the dark grass of the Deep Woods beneath the moonless night sky of blessed Pzob, the serpent slithered from the trees, drawn by the delicious offering. He encircled the Seer, who seemed unaware of his presence, the memory and manipulation not melding perfectly. Despite this, the serpent's nostrils slits widened, smelling the sweet scent of despair. It was a most gratifying offering, he longed to bask in it for as long as his brother could endure the emotional agony. Yet even as he yearned to sup upon this exquisite morsel, he found that he could not enjoy the moment completely. Havok's pain of loss reminded him of his own loneliness and feelings of abandonment. He resented Mortale for leaving, Bacca for sleeping, and Kaan for breaking. Belisarius betraying him was a further twist of the dagger of abandonment in his pitiless heart, more fuel to heap on the pyre that started with his separation from Major, who had always clung to his villainous backside like a shadow. Famine's coils began to constrict around Havok's still seemingly unaware form, encircling him tightly in a warm embrace of glossy scales that were each in turn a window into the soul of Famine. Tortured phantoms were reflected in each hardened mirror of the serpent's surface, banging against their prison for release, their desperate pleading a wailing chorus to lull the Seer to sleep. He wanted to embrace Havok completely, to hold him tightly until his bones were ground to dust, one far-seeing soul pressed to the heart of his hollow being. Here was someone who understood his profound sense of loss, an equal to share in the misery that tortured him even on the summer shores of his pleasure isle. Suddenly his coils closed as the projection of Havok disappeared from his clutches and reappeared as the world around them changed from the natural splendor of the Eye's cradle to the artificial Imperial halls of a First Order compound. He watched as the Seer followed a similar path as he had, seeking a benefactor to bleed for wealth and resources. The great serpent hissed as Havok's words reverberated in his mind, reaffirming his loyalty to his brothers, to Dragus. At that moment the conniving snake was at a loss for words, let alone lies.He didn't want this shared connection to end. But it did. Dragus restrained his aura as Havok removed his finger, the invisible leeching tendrils of his spiritual presence withdrawing reluctantly, forced to be sated with what small snack they were able to scrape from the brief connection with the Seer. A groan rumbled in his belly and his red eyes glazed over slightly, lips widening and jaws quivering in barely contained hunger. Seeing the obvious signs, Squeakers snapped two clawed digits of its gnarled paw, summoning one of the ewok maidens from the entourage that followed behind them. A fishbowl full of human eyeballs was quickly presented before the salivating snout and slathering jaws of the famished draconian. A single sniff broke the spell and his heavy lids narrowed on the bowl, grasping it with a claw before thrusting the talons of his other hand into the transparent container. When he removed his hand he held a handful of the ocular organs in his palm, which he proceeded to plop into his mouth, shredding them between his incisors like fat juicy grapes. Eye juice drizzled from the side of his jaws as he munched noisily, distracting his appetite as his brother completed his explanation.Delvardus as a member of the Order? He used his forked tongue to loosen a half eaten eyeball from between his front teeth. Preposterous! Dragus was an excellent judge of character and he could tell from the moment he had met that human that he did not possess the very specific moral inclinations that the others had. At most he would make a useful pawn, which was the reason why the Famine Lord allowed the events of Prakith to unfold as they had. Still, it heartened him to hear of this so called Emperor's impending death, even if he was to have no part in it. This talk of civil war, however, was something he found most interesting. In fact, it excited him greatly.By the time Havok had finished talking, half the bowl of eyes was already empty, with a thick slathering of slimy juice trailing from the saurian's snout. He looked up at the sky as though the Eye might be up there staring back, then lowered his gaze and swung his claws out to the side, spilling eyeballs from the top of the bowl held in his right claw. Behind him his tail swept through the air at a fast rhythm, wagging happily like a vornskr that had just fetched a ball. Organ juices sprayed in a fine mist from Dragus' wet lips as he spoke sincerely."Oh my dear sssweet, Ssseer." Cooed Dragus, flicking his forked tongue as he brought his claws back together and rested the talons of both hands on the lid of the half emptied fish bowl. "You are ssso sssimply adorable I ssswear I could eat you right up." The corners of his lips lifted, fully displaying his rows of steaming fangs, suggesting he was considering making good on that statement. "I never doubted your commitment to the caussse, though it warmz my black heart to hear you reaffirm your loyalty to our dark family. Know that you are not alone in having attempted to fill the hole the Order'z decline haz left in all our livez. I too have sssought to fill itz vacancy." Dumping the last of the slimy organs from the fishbowl into his mouth, he discarded the container onto the rocks where it smashed into shards, rinsed away by the waves rolling into shore. "Not with any of thiz, of courssse. Material wealth iz az worthlesss az power without sssomeone to share it with. I have a daughter now, did you know?" Raising a talon beneath his snout, he scraped his chin, flacking away scales as he mused aloud. "I sssuppose that makez you an uncle. The little runt iz around here sssomewhere." He cupped his claws around his snout and snarled loudly. "Wart! Where did you run off to? Wart, come out here thiz inssstance!"When she didn't readily appear, the saurian Sith offered a shrug, tilting his head and stamping his tail on the stone steps with a clang. His toe talon tapped on the ground impatiently."That jawa fingered little sssavage iz probably hiding in her room. Well, no matter. You'll meet her eventually. Squeakerz here assurez me she iz a real tusssken raider. Practically feral when I plucked her out of a ssslave market on Nar Shaddaa." He examined the polished talons of his left claw as he feigned humility. "What can I sssay? I've alwayz been drawn to strayz. I'm sssure it haz sssomething to do with my entrepreneurial interessst in charitable workz, az much az the Jedi have tried to ssscrub word of my magnanimouz deedz from the holonet. But letz ssset that assside for a moment. Thiz newz of civil war iz mossst wonderful. A fractured Empire, neighbour againssst neighbour, one ssside pitted in bloody conflict againssst the other for galactic sssupremacy. It stirz the passionz, and presentz opportunity. Siss Siss Siss." Blood bubbles popped in his throat as he hissed and laughed both at once.Meanwhile, the ground underfoot began to tremble and shake. A deep rumble from under the earth caused the entire island to vibrate as something primal and terrifying moved through the subterranean tunnels beneath their feet. Cracks formed in the stone stairs leading up to the sinister fortress at the top of the hill, spewing methane and other odorous gases trapped beneath the surface from fissures in the earth, venting out in scalding bursts of acrid steam. Whatever good mood was writ upon the fiendish face of Famine, it was replaced by a look of...well, we won't call it fear but it very closely resembled concern. The furry followers all muttered the same word:"Umaroth..." To which Dragus replied. "The doomssslither awakenz. Come brother, we should make our way inssside."Without further word, he led Havok the rest of the way up to the front entrance of Fort Ewok. Two massive doors nearly as thick as the Pzobian oaks that they had been hewn from, barred the way into the darkened fortress. Hastily the barabel rapped the scaled knuckles of one fist on the door, urging those inside to open it as quickly as possible. The ground still rumbled beneath them, causing rocks to splinter from the cliff and fall into the sea. A creak sounded from somewhere inside as a latch was lifted and the doors were unbarred. The great portal into the stony entrance swung inwards, pulled by the freakishly large gnarled paw of a ranat-ogre. The towering brute was shorter than Bacca by a head, but just as broad of shoulder and equally overflowing with tightly packed muscle. A thousand tallow candles of congealed human fat illuminated the inner hall, which was adorned with already mouldering tapestries depicting scenes from the the Famine Lord's awful exploits. The air was heavy with sickly smelling incense and narcotic spice, creating a fug that lingered like a tangible layer and clung to ones clothes like dampness in a swamp. Flies buzzed around the sinister decorative lights, seduced by the decay scented secretions.
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Dec 11, 2022 15:54:26 GMT -8
Few people shared mental space with the famine lord and lived, and fewer with their minds intact. Havok felt his trust in his brother rewarded by that fact. But a troubling thought seemed to stay, as if left behind like a slithering print in the mental landscape of Havok's past and memories...
If Havok lost his mind and went mad... how would he, a madman, be able to tell? * * *
When the vision faded, Havok felt and heard the loud smacking of jaws on juicy eyes. A jet of goop shot across the narrow chasm of space between them and landed on Havok's chest, like a medal.
"I did not know you had a daughter." Havok sniffed the air. "Was that the smell of Tatooine I sensed?" Havok laughed, adding "-Don't tell me that you impregnated a Krayt Dragon, you rake!" Dragus' explanation was quick to follow.
"Ah, sand... people." Maybe Havok might need to introduce Tyna to Dragus' daughter. The interaction might help broaden the young oracle's horizons. "Maybe my apprentice and your daughter might meet. We could send them on a mission or something, some time. Nothing big, just so they are gone long enough for you and I to get into trouble while they are out..." When two sith lords went on a pub crawl, it could lead the toppling of governments and societies... Havok made a mental note to make sure that such a thing happened outside of the bounds of the First Order. It would be less of a mess for Havok to clean up that way. The responsibilities of the SSE could potentially be a drag but Havok liked a nice tidy empire. Hover-trams that ran on time served the purposes of darkness better than trams that did not run.
The shaking ground caused the obese ewok under Havok's butt to rock and shift his feet to keep his footing. "Steady." Havok patted that fat creature's head- possibly too hard. The methane venting from the cracked steps further covered the fact that Havok let rip a noxeous fart. The ewok felt the vibration and his small nose winced and wrinkled.
"Doomslither-er?" Havok asked, adding another "er" to the name to test whether he heard the name properly. He felt the tickle in his mind of a great worm. No. That was unheard of! If it was possible... If... If Dragus had managed to bring one here, it would be a great feat indeed!
"Lead on!" Havok felt his sense of anticipation growing. It had been a while since he couldn't wait to see more of a piece of real estate-- Draggle Rock was proving to be far more than just a piece of property! With a kick of Havok's heels into the squat bear's bloated love-handles, Havok's seeing-eye mount waddled behind Dragus, giving the optical illusion to onlookers that Havok was riding a rolling furry ball up the hillside into the great fortress.
The towering ranat-ogre was a horrific sight, opening the door to a haunting great hall. To Havok's eyes upon entering, the world appeared as a shadowy imprint of the real world arising from the humming threads of light in the force. The threads of the darkside flowed freely through the hall, carrying whispers of torture and suffering. Even the swirling smoke from rendered human tallow had a discernable affect on the flow of the force. The hall itself wasn't nearly dark enough in the force to be causing the palatable sense of foreboding though. Havok concluded that places of greater darkness were surely nearby. Places created by the swirling black hole of hunger that Havok presently followed.
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,190
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Dec 14, 2022 10:15:15 GMT -8
An inner portcullis leading into the next section of the fort began to raise as they entered the first hall, creaking on rusted hinges despite the recent construction of the dread fortress. The barbed iron flaked bits of corrosion as it lifted to allow them passage further into the structure's bowels. Beyond the entrance hall, the winding corridors of the black stained castle were shrouded in darkness, the stone it was comprised of quite literally smothering any illumination. For most in this instance, Dragus would have provided some light using one of the unlit torches available, but seeing as his current guest was not handicapped by the lack of illumination he saw no need. The fire also served to keep the more feral mutants housed inside those walls at bay. Also not necessary, thought the deranged drake with a smile.
What they lacked in portable lighting they made up for in pure unadulterated power. Both were changed from years of manipulating the currents of the darkside, transformed further by the their connection to the Eye, forever tainted by its corrupting influence. Though the Seer's work might occasionally give him cause to conceal his darker nature, here amongst kin there was no need. And the warped creations of the fort responded to that darkness. Leading his brother deeper still, they passed corridors of leathery fleshed rakghoul that hissed and snarled at their passage, but that wilted and retreated further into the dank depths rather than pursue the two lords of the Eye. Famine even thought he scented the presence of his twisted offspring lurking nearby, though the mentally broken barabels kept to the shadows for now, despite the proximity of such a succulent offering as Lil'Drags. Then of course there were the rats, or ranats, vermin of varying kinds that could be found just about everywhere.
"I'm certain you've noticed the currentz of Bogan flow more easssily here." He hissed knowingly. "It'z no trick, nor waz thiz fort built on a nexuz of any sssort. It iz the unique propertiez of the ssstone, the very sssame the black temple of our former capital was constructed from, quarried in the shadow of Mt. Sssoulfyre in the Deep Woodz on holy Pzob. I believe that waz Mortale'z preferred meditation ssspot. I wouldn't be sssurprised if sssome of hiz old apostlez are ssstill lurking around itz sssummit, or lording over the gamorrean village at itz bassse. What did they call themselvez again? The Death Crowz? No. The Raven'z Brood?" He shook his snout from left to right, then tapped a long curved claw on his chin. "That'z not it either. Well, no matter. Our beloved family automaton iz ssseeing to it now, with your apprentice I do believe. You know she quite impresssed me when she came to visssit me in my feasssting hall." Assuming you could call the filth ridden bone pit a hall.
"She iz quite nimble fingered, and quite difficult to sssink onez clawz into. I persssonally prefer my apprenticez roasssted on a ssspit to a ssslight char, but I think you should keep that one. With sssome exposssure to the darker mysteriez of the Force, who knowz? She could one day replace you." His lips twisted into an exaggerated frown, and he held one claw against his chest over his black heart. "I would misss you of courssse, but I've alwayz wanted a sssister. I sssuppose there waz Trace, but she waz alssso a Night Sssister and it waz like, am I calling you sssister because it'z your title or because your family? Do you know? I don't know. It doesssn't quite feel like it countz. Anywayz, back to what I waz sssaying about the black ssstone. Mt. Sssoulfyre iz near the crash sssite of...It. My night ewokz tear the preciouz sssubstance from the earth, where the magicz have ssseeped and sssaturated deep into the rock, transssforming ordinary sssedation into an alchemistz wet dream."
The It he was referring to was the very same thing his brothers all thought him mad for. What Sith in his right mind would deconstruct the shipyards over Onderon, package them and move everything to Tynna, then reassemble the entire thing as a giant sanctuary for the thing the dark lord of Famine loved the very most? He had filled this orbital facility with cloned copies of members from his flock, loaded to the brim with cuddly sentient bear folk, fur from end to end. It was paradise. But it was not meant to be. The forces of the Order's great empire were dispersing to the far edges of the galaxy or swearing themselves to new masters or warlords of the deep void. It was no longer safe to keep his beloved sanctuary so far away and defenseless, he needed to keep it close. So with a team of his finest tinker rats he devised a means to propel facility through hyperspace all the way to holy Pzob. However, the Eye was a jealous mistress and longed for its most devout follower's full attention. In a jealous rage the Pzobian nebula stormed as it never had before, striking down the sanctuary just as it arrived and sending it spiralling towards the northern hemisphere of the Cradle where it crashed into the Deep Woods. All aboard should have rightly died, but the Eye's envious vision had been blinded to one thing that day. Ewoks bounce. They survived, adapted to the land, and the rest was basic history any hannite could prattle on about at length. All high lords knew the perverted tale of their scaled brother's personal harem, and the heights of excess reached there within.
"Sssomething about the material allowz it to capture and ssstore the currentz of the fey that flow through it. Redirecting them here waz a challenge, I mussst admit, az well as cossstly. For a time the blue waterz washing into shore were ssstained red with the ssspilt vitae of numerouz offeringz, including more than a few underlingz that will be difficult to replace. Az I sssaid, cossstly, but ultimately necesssary and by all accountz successsful. Were you to attempt to unleash a few forkz of lightning from your fingertipz anywhere elssse on the planet, you would find the Force respondz more sssluggishly to your sssummoning. Yet to do ssso here might unleash a ssstorm of titanic proportion."
A warning of sorts. He had no doubt his brother was in control of all his faculties, but even an experienced Sith might be surprised by the sheer amplification effect that resonated within these wicked halls.
"Do you feel that?" He paused and turned to face the Seer, both men still shrouded by darkness in the unlit halls, save for the furious red glow of the barabel's eyes. "Nothing. That disssconnect from the greater galaxy the moment you walked in waz the resssult of crushed meltamasssif used az mortar between the black ssstone. I have long ssstudied the rare material, even gone ssso far az to ussse it in my flute. It haz electrochemical propertiez that make it an excellent transssmitter. Ussseful for mind control, and indoctrination. I hypothesssize the Eye'z bankz of brainwashing podz make ussse of the material az well, though obviousssly I can not prove that without returning there." Not a notion he was particularly keen on. "However, I have had successs in reversssing the polarity of the meltmasssif, usssing it az a psssychic shield of sortz rather than a transssmitter. The resssult haz been...illuminating. The Eye, you sssee, haz thuz far been unable to pierce thiz protective veil. Thiz iz the only place I don't feel itz voice reverberating inssside my ssskull, the only place I do not feel itz gaze intruding on my thoughtz and actz. Here I am free." Free, so far as having the run of his gilded cage went.
He made no false claims. The fort, for all that it was a black beacon of utter darkness, cut them off from the outside. It was possible the moment Havok passed through the main gate, his apprentice or anyone with a strong Force bond to him would have felt a pang of loss, as though the Force were communicating that this person no longer exists.
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Dec 26, 2022 9:21:47 GMT -8
"The force flows strong through your island," Lord Havok expected nothing less. "and you brew and steep it here, like a warlock, until it is more potent than before." Havok was impressed and his voice showed it. "Ripe for magiks and sorcery..." Havok tapped the hewn walls with his cane, trying to hide his envy. "While my position affords me great latitude to conceal my meditations and research of the dark side, the Empire's uniformity in building aesthetics greatly hampers my ability to work wonders such as this."
The Dread Seer motioned to the black stone wall. Great care was required in harvesting and placing the stones in the walls around them. Both to preserve the mystical properties of the stone and to ensure that the geometry of the flow maximized its potential. Besides the temple on Pzob (Havok had yet to see its equal), Brother Dragus' stronghold here on Rishi managed to preserve the stones' properties and build a structure capable of channeling and amplifying the flow of the dark side. It was worthy of Dragus' might as a preeminent practitioner of sith alchemy. Havok's own skill in the art was rudimentary by comparison, not because Havok wasn't competent- Havok's mastery was on par with any other Lord of the Eye- but the famine lord's skill was on another level. It wouldn't surprise Havok if the alchemical knowledge enabled Dragus to design the place so the stones worked. Away from prying eyes and as if emerging from a tunnel, Havok's presence expanded from its confines and filled the chamber. Immediately around Havok's person, a sickly light began to emanate in the darkness. Havok's eyes glowed white like bleached bones. Havok's shadow, cast against the dark wall behind him, grew great wings and a crown of thorns, as if he stood as a prince crowned in terror and winged with forbidden knowledge. His imperial uniform smoked and smelled of sulfur. It was as if the seer had been holding back. His demonstration was the equivalent of stretching his legs after a long time of being cooped up. The visible light faded, but Havok still glowed far brighter in the force than before.
The blind sith lord swung his seeing-eye cane in the air and the amplified force power threw a jet of power down the hall, bisecting a Ranat. Havok felt Lil'Dragus tremble under his buttocks. He turned to his brother. "Hmmm. That was very satisfying. I've never cleaved anyone with the power of concentrated wind before."
Using the force, The seer pulled another Ranat from the depths of the darkness. It squeaked in alarm and scratched its claws on the stone floor trying to scamper from the supernatural pull. The Ranat's eyes exploded under the strain before Havok let him go. "Mercy? I think not." The Ranat ran into the darkness before hitting a distant wall with an echoing slap. Havok had a good laugh. Other dark creatures lurking in the darkness soon found and made short work of the blinded, senseless critter.
Havok dismounted and Lil'dragus immediately waddled into the darkness after the blinded Ranat. "Don't go far dear." Havok pleaded weakly to the fat ewok. "I would hate for you to get injured..." His voice was insincere. "Oh, what am I saying? I am sure he'll be fine and not get torn to pieces in the darkness." Havok snorted, his dark eyes full of glee as he returned his attention to his host. "Oh Brother. This place is wonderful. Simply wonderful!" Havok nodded his head in pride as the Barabel commented on his encounter with Lady Tyna and her accomplishments. He agreed. "Yes. She has been growing at a remarkable rate." His apprentice was a credit to her training. His training. Havok had been training Darth Tyna for nearly 10 years. Because a healthy body and mind were linked, Havok insisted that Tyna not rely solely on the force, but also to develop survival skills, hand-to-hand combat competence, and acrobatics. Havok recalled the excitement he felt upon recently discovering her acrobatic ability rivaled his own.
"Her time on Pzob will be... transformative. If she survives it." Havok's emphasis showed he had foreseen multiple outcomes. Starkiller, the family automaton as Dragus called him, was perhaps becoming Tyna's first ally- or pawn. She would need several more if she ever hoped to overthrow Havok. "She works well with the Eye's executioner. They make quite a team. They should be able to deal with Mortale's cult." Probably. Havok shrugged. Havok knew that bringing his apprentice to Pzob would ultimately expose her to the Eye's influence and molder her into the young believer that he once was. A believer that may eventually become powerful and fanatical enough to turn on him. He always sensed the idealistic fires of a zealot within her. He protected her from that sort of nonsense to make her slow to sacrifice herself. Self-sacrifice was a foible of humanity and he guarded her against it. Sometimes the greatest act is to stand by and watch, and let nature take its course. Not out of respect for the natural order, but from a sense of vindictive revenge. And one may not cultivate vindictiveness if they have not accumulated a lifetime of trauma and wrongs to draw from. (For that reason, old sith, who lived a life time of struggle before attaining power, often could muster the greatest, most malevolent powers.) Havok smiled at his old friend, Dragus. They had both lived long unnatural lives...
"To be honest, I hope she succeeds. She is a credit to her sex, and far stronger than her mother..." In the back of his mind, Havok was beginning to wonder why he couldn't feel his connection with his apprentice when he entered Dragus' fortress. "I wouldn't bet against her, nor would I bet against myself just yet." Dragus would have to wait and be patient for a sister, though it was kind of Dragus to admit that he would miss Havok. "I suspect the Eye would miss me too." Havok spoke cryptically.
Speaking of the Eye, where the devil was it? Dragus' words called Havok's attention to the conspicuous absence of the Baleful Eye. The blind seer felt the invisible tension gone from his shoulders. The great weight of the Eye of Pzob had melted away. The Call- ever pulling him, ever seeking to bend Havok to its command-- The incessant imperative to corrupt all things into its service. To grow and consume the minds and flesh of its followers. The pervasive influence weaving itself through Havok's reality-- It was gone, here, in Draggle Rock.
The meltmassif! Dragus explained, reminding Havok of the material's properties. Dragus' use of meltmassif as mortar was a bold move for the fortress and stunning in its masterful execution. It explained the sensations Havok felt as he entered the place.
"Castles of solitude, built to free one's self from a tyrannous and demanding overlord. Brother, what have we become?" Havok spoke those forbidden words to the darkness, halting the vibration of the sound waves to the vermin in the darkness and channeling it so that only Dragus could hear those blasphemous words aloud. Havok did not stop there. "We work so hard to please it, and it is never enough. It demands more and more of us." The seer's shoulders slumped, silent for a moment. "We will never be completely free brother. Parts of us never escaped the battlemoon and are still there."
"The story has always been that we were the chosen ones. That the Eye was our birthright- that we were it's children. The recent prophecy, my prophecy, goes that Palpatine will return when we complete preparations and restore the Eye to its glory. It's why we became the Adventists of the Eye." Havok's tone soured. "But what if it was a clever ruse, using me to lead us all deeper into its clutches? The Eye grows more powerful, but will its restoration really usher in the advent of a new era?" Havok's doubts flowed hard and fast like a dam breaking. "Or will it only serve to dominate us further?" He could not stay silent another minute for fear that their lives and future freedom may depend on it.
"Has my purpose been to lead you all into slavery? Have I been a true seer, doing nothing more than guiding my beloved brothers to victory? Or have I been deceived; nothing more than a puppet for a unholy machine to lure, entrap and enslave us?" Havok's skepticism of his own gifts would have been an embarrassment but he spoke from genuine concern for his brothers. Because of his doubts, the dreadful seer no longer placed blind unthinking loyalty in the Eye's commands. He suspected and was almost certain that the Eye had the ability to warp Havok's sight in a way that led Havok and the counsel to mistakenly believe that the Eye loved and cared for them. In short, the Eye's power was true, but the religion was false. What a terrifying thought to have your powers used to utterly betray your brothers and lead them down a false path!
Havok calmed himself, reiterating the certainties. "I am certain that my gift of sight is true, though I must continue to be more discerning in my visions. I am certain of our loyalty to each other. We know the Eye is real, with incredible power, but I do not flatter myself and say that it answers to our will alone. I am certain it retains a will of its own. It would be better if we treat the Eye like a chaotic foe that we must bridle, tame, and dominate until we are able to assert complete control over its awesome powers..."
Havok closed his eyes. "Our future still lies with the Eye and asserting control through it's false religion." Havok's eyes opened. "But we cannot accept its commands without question lest we become its thralls." If they were not thralls already... "We must eventually to go back there, to the Eye, if we want this power for ourselves." Though when they would be prepared to do so, Havok could not say.
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,190
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Dec 27, 2022 7:58:36 GMT -8
Under different circumstances Havok's despair would have been a fine wine the Famine Lord would have supped and savoured in exquisite delight, but his words rang too close to home for even the depraved draconian to find any sustenance in it. His brother voiced nearly the same concerns he had; it was only here within these walls shielded from their true master's prying orb that they were genuinely able to do so.Dragus' overlong tail began to slither its way across the floor, slipping behind the Seer's back to encircle him, before slowly constricting to close the gap between them. It didn't stop until both Sith were practically nose to nose."It waz hubriz that brought thiz upon uz." He bitterly acknowledged. "In our arrogance, we thought we could control it. And why not? The power it granted uz ssseemed like a gift. With it we were able to conquer entire sectorz of ssspace. The expansssion region, the outer rim...thessse were our fiefdomz. We faced down the Jedi, the Mandalorianz, even crushed other darkssside factionz that refusssed to join uz. There wasssn't a sssoul in the galaxy that didn't know our name, and if they were honessst with themselvez, fear it. Why wouldn't we think we would massster the Eye? There had never been a challenge we were unable to meet." His triangular incisors ground together, sawing into his black gums and spilling vitae over his lips. The scent of hot copper filled the air between them. "Perhapz it had built uz up all thossse yearz to blind uz to the peril we were in. Disssbanding our empire at the height of itz glory? Utter madnesss! Yet I remember in that moment the decisssion had been ssso clear, itz wordz in my mind ssso compelling. We should have known then that we ssserved a flawed construct, and not the other way around."In a rare act of exposure, the Hungering One unbarred the barriers he had built around his mind and allowed the Blind One in. He used the bitterness writhing inside of his scaled form as a conduit to harness the currents of the malevolent fey, bending reality around them as he had been taught by his former shadow. Compared to Major he was a child playing at illusion, but thanks to the effect of the fortress he was able to recreate the world around them in astounding detail. The corridors of the fort melted away and they found themselves in the dank underbelly of Nomad City, a mobile facility on the blistering hellscape of Nkllon. Inside a dimly lit lab was a translucent tank, containing a foul murky liquid in which the figure of a man floated, slowly sickening as the heady stink of the darkside seeped into the tank, corrupting the being held within. Havok and Dragus found themselves standing in the centre of the dusty laboratory, as though they had been physically present for those events."I am a clone. Did you know that? It'z not sssomething I ssspeak of often." His tail unwound itself from around his brother and the black scaled barabel took a step towards the tank, placing a claw upon its smooth surface as he attempted to peer at the thing maturing within. "You may find thiz difficult to believe, but my creator waz a Jedi, though far from an exemplary example of their kind. He delved into unnatural sciencez that would have horrified otherz of hiz Order, had they been aware. I waz desssigned to ssserve az hiz replacement body, an empty shell for hiz ssspirit to inhabit when the time inevitably came. Only it never did. In a foolish act of contrition, he sssacrificed himssself, abandoning me in the processs. Forgotten in the bowelz of that place, I should have died when the power inevitably failed and the tankz life sssupport systemz shut down." The lumens above their head dimmed and flickered. Blue forks of electrical current danced across cables and erupted from conduits in a shower of sparks. The pod began to drain, spilling it putrid effluence across the floor to soak their feet. "But the universsse had other planz. I think perhapz the Force haz a sssense of humour."Slathered in a viscus layer of slime at the bottom of the pod was a man, stirring for the first time. He appeared humanoid, the genetic curse that would eventually set in was still in its infant state. It would still be some time before the flesh change took place and his skin was shed in favour of scales. Beyond the obvious, there was something unusual about the man, something...lacking. As Dragus stood over his juvenile form, it would be unmistakable that he shared that same absence."A power sssurge causssed the cloning cylinder to purge itz contentz. I should have died, inssstead I awoke, imperfect and incomplete. The flaw was immediately apparent to me. Desssigned az nothing more than a shell, I waz hollow on the inssside, absssent a ssspiritual esssence of my own." He turned his snout to regard Havok. "While my presssence in the Force may be reminissscent of a fathomlesss pit, that sssensation waz not the resssult of the Eye'z influence. It merely amplified the effect. The emptinesss waz alwayz there. Itz why I waz ssso obsesssed with perfection. I wanted to fix the flaw within me. I think that waz why Major waz drawn to me. She had a sssimilar affliction, a parting gift for the extermination of her kind." A lithe feminine figure appeared over the naked man curled at the bottom of the tank, split across the face with an unnaturally wide chainsaw grin. "We were kindred spiritz, two halvez of a whole being. When we were together, that emptinesss never felt ssso pronounced, itz presssence sssomewhat muted. In my ignorance, I didn't sssee it for the sssalve that it waz. No matter how deep our connection or how tightly we bound ourselvez to one another, we were both ssstill hollow. Until..."The environment around them changed again, the lab faded and the darkness was replaced with the light of an alien star. They stood on the tarmac of a military base on the Codian Moon of Ylesia. The man from the tank was there, no longer naked but instead garbed in the draping's of a Sith. While most of his flesh was concealed by his attire, lines of corruption rose as black veins bulging from his neck. He stood there in defiance of a monstrous cyclops that towered over him. In the sky above was a Super Star Destroyer that Havok would recognize: the Eye of Pzob."...Bacca arrived at my doorssstep. He offered me a choice. Join or die." Dragus smiled, almost warmly. "Alwayz ssso direct, our warring brother. It'z what I've alwayz loved about him. Even in my infancy, I waz not ssso foolish az to believe myssself hiz equal. Not yet. I accepted hiz offer, joining the New Order and opening myssself to the mysteriez of the Eye. The power it offered changed me in sssimilar fashion az it changed you and the otherz. In it I sssaw the perfection I had long sssought. Major waz lesss convinced, I think, but we were inssseparable at that point. In hand and hand we walked together into our shacklez, accepting ssslavery graciousssly az though it were a gift. I sssaw only the power it offered, refusssing to acknowledge that once I let it in, it would never let me go. I think her magicz shielded me from the worssst of it. While she waz az wretched az the ressst of uz, Major'z power derived from sssomething other than the Force. The White Current, the Fallanasssi called it. When we were together, I waz ssstill myssself, in complete control of my facultiez. It'z why I waz able to ssso easssily betray my brotherz. Treachery haz long been an intrinsssic part of my persssonality. But when she left...I waz finally exposssed. By then it waz too late. Without her there to shield me from itz gaze, the Eye was able to enthrall me to near completion."Again their surroundings transformed, replaced with the familiar green orb of the Cradle. The scaled drake stood at the head of a massive fleet, readying to depart for the farthest reaches of the Unknown Region. His pupil Belisarius Vilebroth stood at his side, a pale and lanky figure leaning on a tall war scythe."After the insssanity of Prakith and our ill fated journey to the battlemoon, I waz compelled to perform the Eye'z bidding. It had a misssion for me beyond the edge of civilization. It bade me to construct four devicez, black alterz it called them, a combination of arcane power and alien ssscience." He scowled. "While my talentz with alchemy are unequaled, a greater underssstanding of technology haz alwayz eluded me. I waz forced to ssseek out remnantz of the Rakata and Ssi-Ruuvi, to blend darkssside empowered tech with sssoul ripping entenchment machinez. You would be amazed at the resultz of their collaboration, though I sssuppose the threat of extermination waz an excellent incentive to not fail. Sssucceed they did, crafting the devicez to the Eye'z ssspecification. They were batteriez, capable of ssstoring expired ssspiritual esssence. Sssadly, I waz not able to keep my promissse to ssspare thossse that asssisted in their construction." He shrugged. "I had to be certain the devicez worked, after all, and work they did. I filled the firssst of four that day."At the head of the Eye's fleet, the Covenant of Blood visited destruction upon alien worlds, tearing a bloody swathe through the Unknown Regions. After which, it began to turn, heading back towards a distant mote of light. The Eye."I have already ssspoke of Belisarius' betrayal and my return to Pzob. Ssstill under the Eye'z compulsssion, I filled the sssecond black altar with the sssoul matter of Kesh. The third I filled here, and the fourth thuz far remainz empty. It took imbibing ssseveral of my mossst potent elixirz to mussster enough ssstrength to resssist itz Will, allowing me to bring the lassst device here where the Eye'z compulsssion iz diminished. Even ssso, I am keenly aware that my resssistance iz temporary at bessst. Refusssing it thuz far haz taxed me beyond my reservez. Outssside thessse wallz I often find myssself losssing track of time. Not jussst hourz, but dayz, weekz even. I am told I recently sssacked the world of Ryloth in the name of the Sssith Eternal, but I do not recall thossse eventz."Finally the walls of the illusion crumbled and reality returned in its place. Once more they were in the dark corridors of Fort Ewok, standing face to face. Only Dragus couldn't meet Havok's eye."I'm afraid it'z already too late. Sssoon it will have what it wantz."
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jan 22, 2023 18:39:34 GMT -8
Huberis. Yes. The Sith Lord Havok nodded his head in agreement.
Lord Dragus' tail brought his blind brother in close. Darth Havok was so close, he could feel the Barabel's breath on his face. It came in fetid puffs and flecked the dread seer's face with fish blood.
Suddenly Dragus dropped the barriers of his mind and Havok could see into that old serpent's mind. Out of respect for his fellow Lords, Havok generally tried not to delve too deep into into his brothers' pasts with his oracular sight. But the offer made things different. He welcomed Dragus' candor- it almost felt as refreshing as the confession of a prisoner after a round of torture protocols. Dragus' illusion took them back in time and transported them to a distant world to witness Dragus' "birth." The illusion of the cloning lab revealed that the reptilian sith lord had been originally nothing more than a mere clone for a flawed humanoid jedi. Havok could see the blank mind of the clone in the cylinder waiting to be filled with the jedi's essence- but was then abandoned to rot and left for corruption wallowing in the deactivated clone vat. A vessel made evil and corrupt through the neglect of the powers that be! But for an electrical fault in the systems, Dragus would not be here today. Fate, with the cruelty of a vicious joke, taunted them with the potential of what "might never have been," and what almost wasn't.
That Dragus was originally human or came from artificially wrought genes and flesh was of no moment; the appearance of Dragus' fleshy outer form did nothing to change his potency or hide the swirling black hole of unquenchable need that the Seer could behold through time. That he was originally patterned after a jedi was meaningless. Havok's own mother was a Jedi. What made Havok angry was the revelation that Dragus had been discarded. Who could have possibly discarded that inestimable treasure of the future famine-lord?! Was the jedi blind?? Of course he was.
The vision shifted, blasting them forward in time to another shatterpoint- a moment of infinite density and destiny. As the Lord of Famine recounted the tale, Havok could almost see the ghostly form of Lord Bacca take shape in the ether and demand the loyalty of a recalcitrant man. Apparently it was Dragus in another earlier form. The cycloptic eye of the Lord of War glared at him over his scowling face and beard, daring violence. The Abysian's demand was simple. "Join us or die." Havok had heard his brother give that ultimatum many times, with varying results. Some tried to run, some arrogantly refused, and the smart ones, like Dragus, accepted the power and brotherhood. In those days the Order was still questing for the mythical Eye and whispering promises of power if they could only find it.
Another individual entered the picture. The Major? Havok could still remember the saw-toothed grin of the militant Fallanasi. And her peculiar accent, ja? "Sie hat in fremden Laendern geleben gehabt und sie hat ein altes Zaubergewehr bei sich tragen gehabt." As a seer, Darth Havok wasn't so taken by her illusions, though they were of exceptional quality. He had to begrudgingly admit she even succeeded in fooling him once, though that was a story for another time.
Havok continued to listen as his brother told him- and showed him- of his relationships and then his increased ties to the inescapable power of the Second Eye of Palpatine. The ties that compelled Famine to leave for conquest in the unknown regions. For all of Dragus's shame at not having complete control over himself, Havok could not lord over his brother. The seer had no better success in resisting the compulsions of the Eye. So far Havok's best defense was to avoid using his gifts and staying far away from Pzob. Being part of the First Order's intelligence agency allowed Havok to remain well informed in his willful blindness. Havok would have continued, but Dragus returned!
In Havok's despair and loneliness, Dragus came back from beyond the outer rim, as if the Lord of Famine had heard the weeping in Havok's soul. It would have been embarrasing for other sith to admit sorrow, but all emotions could be harnessed in service to the dark side. Even joy. When he felt the echoes of Dragus' presence rippling through the force, Havok could not help but heed the call and return to Pzob once more. Joyously, he would add. Perhaps Dragus was the Eye's bait to lure Havok back. If Dragus had been bait, it would not have changed Havok's decision to come. He would have made his way to Pzob rejoicing, because their dark brotherhood still lived. Even if the Eye wanted the souls of the high lords captured and bound in the fourth "soul" battery, not even the Eye had the ability to over power all of them together. But, still. What were these soul batteries? What had the Eye compelled Dragus- the crafter of curious and wonderous things- to invent them for? Havok wondered.
More troubling than a potential trap was the lost time and missing recollections. It seemed to mar Dragus' exquisite mind with cracks-- potentially allowing the ravenous sith lord to operate as the Eye's instrument without freewill or consciousness. Havok was even more disturbed by what Dragus said next:
The serpentoid lord was unable to look the blind seer in his pale sightless eyes.
"No." Havok's denial was instant. No, Dragus was the cleverest of his brothers- cloaked in guile and able to play both sides of a conflict; the plot-weaver. With hunger and lust shrouding Famine's thoughts and true intentions like an impenetrable shield, his mind was like a slippery slug of filth and vice but always able to worm his way out of a looming defeat and gobble up his enemies in the end. Havok admired that shrewd intellect.
Havok closed his pale eyes and lifted his hands to the Barabel's face. His fingers lightly touched the scales, feeling their contours. Of course, Barabels do not have the same sorts of facial expressions as humans or near-human species, but the currents of emotion could be read in the blood dripping from Famine's bleeding gums and clenching jaw. Havok was not used to the raw vulnerability of the moment. The weaver of plots- the cleverest lizard in the garden, the serpentoid of the Eye- did not appear to have a plan. Dragus, the ever-hungering creature made of poison, alchemy, and schemes must have a plan to resist or withstand the woeful Eye!
The vague pallor of defeat hung over both of them. It was intolerable. "No!" was Havok's gut response. Years of training to oppose, to struggle, to use his unnatural powers of the dark side to find a way home, to overcome, to survive-- whatever defined victory in a given moment. Havok had no plan, and it made him extremely uncomfortable... but maybe being comfortable was part of the problem that led them to this mess...
The oracular sith lord dropped his hands from Dragus' face, running them along his bother's shoulders and down his arms. "It doesn't have us yet. It does not have us right now." With a wiggle, Havok slipped from his brother's coils and began to pace. "Are we dead or alive, brother?" Havok's rhetorical question was earnest. "If we agree we are dead, then our story ends here." Havok's lightsaber slid from his sleeve into his hand, which he then raised to his head. The lightsaber emitter shroud was pressed against Havok's temple. "My apprentice will never know the joy of defeating me. No foe will ever claim triumph over my sight. There is no hope to accumulate more power tomorrow, because we are dead today." Havok did not explain the metaphor because it would have been patronizing. The force is meant to break chains and lead to freedom. In Havok's opinion, As a slave, there was little difference between being alive and a slave, or dead. It was always preferable to seek a way out of slavery and die trying, than to live as a slave-- even if being a slave was comfortable. It was in the struggle to break one's bonds and exceed one's limitations that one truly lived, or learned how to live. Havok's mind was back in the tortuous basement at the orphanage where he was abused and abandoned. He should have died then. Anyone else would have died. He was just too young to know how to die. Too scared to close his eyes and embrace the blackness that beckoned. In too much pain to find rest. There was no comfort to be had. There was only each breath- in and out- and the question of what would happen next... The burning desire to know the future consumed him and his fitful sleeps of pre-consciousness that he mistook as dreams... Of course, In the end, Havok survived. But that outcome was not predetermined. Others died around him. He had been unable to save his friend, Sly, at the orphanage, but now, Havok believed maybe, just maybe, he might save them both and rekindle the fire of passion in Dragus the Famine Lord, schemer extraordinaire.
Havok cracked a crooked smile. "We have fought, and struggled our entire lives to become who we are today, heirs to the eternal darkness." He used the lightsaber to push back his long dark hair from his face. "We didn't come this far to roll over into our graves and die in comfort as fat old toothless codgers." Havok scowled at the suggestion, before he blinked and scratched his chin, suddenly doubtful. " Or, maybe we are merely dreamers in an uneasy sleep..." The blind seer lapsed into thought. Best to be sure.
"AWAKE!" Without warning, Havok slapped Dragus in the face, and then slapped himself full on in the face, HARD, far harder than he hit Dragus. The pain was stimulating! The pain radiated outwards in the force like a slap that echoed through time. They definitely were not dreaming right now. "Forgive me brother. My technique is unorthodox, but I had to make sure. You stated that you have been missing time. I too have been dreaming fitful dreams. Our thoughts are occasionally not our own. The enemy, at times, stalks within us." Havok tapped his chest with his lightsaber hilt. "If I could feel your pain, or you mine, then we would know we were still dreaming. At any rate, you are wrong. It doesn't have us now, here, in this curious place-- in this clever hall that you constructed."
"That being said," Havok unslung his sniper rifle from his back and held it in his hands. "It is too easy to be dreaming when I am comfortable and with clean hands. Perhaps I have kept my hands too clean by killing from afar, and have forgotten my thirst for blood." Havok's glowing white eyes glinted with purposeful fury. "For too long have I rested in my privilege. For too long I have fought weak and unworthy foes. I have remained hidden, killing from the darkness. Perhaps this is what we need to wake us from our stupor. We have been dead these past 10 years, and now, TODAY, we live again!" Havok swung the rifle against the floor in a frenzy. The first hit bent the barrel and the second broke the slug thrower in half, exploding its delicate internal components on the floor. With manic energy, Havok flung the stock away from him into the darkness where it struck and killed a ranat-ogre by spearing it with the barrel. Havok turned and faced Dragus, chest heaving. "I swear to you brother- I will become more powerful. If I have to kill a continent of people with my bare hands, and then drink the ocean of their blood, I will see it done. We must. It is the only way for us to break these chains. If I have to go to the ends of the galaxy- If I have to endure hardships, and sacrifice my pride and comfort and position, I will!"
"We will stand. We will stand together and fight like the damned souls that we are! We will fight the Eye, and either we will prevail and become its masters, or we will drag it with us to our graves, so that NONE shall have its awesome power!" The wings of Havok's shadow reappeared before its feathers melted into the thrashing heads of a many-eyed hydra, mouths open in a cacophony of silent screeching. "But us!" The shadows grew and them combined with the shadows of the hall to appear like a troop of hellish demons dancing around them. "There is no death in the brotherhood. We will fight, and fight. And if you fall, I will bring you back from the dead to fight again. And if I fall, I know you would do the same for me!" Havok gripped his fellow sith lord by the arm in a surprisingly strong grip. "Even if there is no escape-- even if we are damned-- I can think of no one better than my brothers, with whom to share hell!"
With Havok's speech, or rather his statement of commitment and intention, Havok still did not have the foggiest idea of how they should proceed when they left these Meltmassif halls. He also prepared himself for the possibility that no quick and easy solution or plot would be immediately forthcoming. These things may take time. What he could see was a future with helmets. Something about helmets. Maybe he would have to think more on that later when he got back to his sith library and archive.
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,190
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
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Post by Dragus on Jul 10, 2023 5:46:06 GMT -8
A resounding clang echoed through the halls of the Fort as the saurian Sith's muscular fifth appendage thumped the floor, causing the tail spike capping its end to resonate like a tuning fork each time it made contact with the filthy stone, followed by further applause as Dragus brought his scaled palms together and offered the Seer a clap."Well sssaid, brother." Hissed the Blood Wyrm, his mood somewhat elevated by Havok's motivational speech. While he lacked the others confidence, he could certainly get behind the enthusiasm. It was then that a delightfully wicked thought occurred in the scheming serpentine mind of the Famine Lord, causing his sinister scaled lips to split as he displayed a bloody smile of far too many teeth. "No sssense letting our current predicament sssour the mood. Our reunion iz cause for celebration."Leaving the poorly lit halls behind, the Dark Apothecary led his visually impaired sibling up a spiral staircase that opened to the night sky as they reached the roof of the watch-tower on the north east side of the Fort. Looking over the side to the North or East, one would be greeted with the sight of ocean waves rolling into shore beneath a moonlit sky. Day had surrendered to night at some point while the two Sith had been inside. Looking towards the South or West, one might see the courtyard of the fort below as well as the jungle just beyond that covered most of the island. Night ewoks and ranats could be seen gathering in the courtyard below, all looking up towards the starry sky overhead. Dragus leaned against the stone lip of the corner spire they stood upon and rested his claws on the edge, though his gaze was fixated on the heavens above. In fact, one of the Hungering One's verminous assistants appeared carrying a complicated contraption assembled from brass tubes, alchemically attuned lenses, and numerous dials. Squeakers setup the black scaled barabel's precious scrying scope and then scurried out of the way as Dragus stalked over and shooed him off."I've taken the liberty of arranging a fireworkz disssplay to properly welcome you, my sightlesss sssibling." He scraped his chin bloody with a long crooked claw. "Though az it now occurz to me, perhaps a visssual demonssstration waz not the bessst choice. Not too worry." He snapped two talons together. "Squeakerz, be a dear and explain what the ressst of uz are ssseeing to Havok." One problem remedied. Dragus continued to explain as he placed an eye to the viewing lens of the arcane telescope pointed at the sky. "I thought thiz would be a good opportunity to tessst out the island'z new shield generator, ssso I've arranged for the golan platform in orbit to fire itz turbolassser cannonz at Draggle Rock in about..." He looked down at the sun dial on his wrist, which was entirely worthless at night, and nodded. "...a minutez time. Not to worry though, I've asssigned the mossst talented tinker ratz in the Fort to the job of asssembling the generator. Alpha Shift are probably patting themselvez on the back right now."It was then that Squeakers squeaked up, espousing something in indecipherable rat-speech in a flurry of waving arms. "Alpha Shift all caught the avian flu? Then who haz been working on the generator?" A night ewok appeared at Dragus' side and offered the villainous velociraptor another coconut full of fish blood, which he brought to his jaws and took a long sip from as Squeakers answered his question, then quickly scurried behind Havok. "Delta Shift?!" Red mist sprayed like a fire hose from the disturbed draconian's lips as he dragged the portable telescope over to the other side of the roof and adjusted the tube so that it was pointed towards the portion of the jungle where the generator was located. "Well, that'z not good."A small explosion erupted in the jungle at the spot Dragus just happened to be looking at, followed by a warning siren from Fort Ewok's PA system.T-minus thirty seconds to orbital bombardment. 29, 28, 27..."
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 22, 2023 15:33:29 GMT -8
Lord Havok was somewhat expecting the response and abrupt change of topic from his brother, Lord Dragus. It was an emotional, uncomfortable topic with no easy solution. Their current predicament was likely to be filed away with the other sore topics, such as that nasty business with Lord Ka'an on Pzob-- Shameful! And in the Black Temple no less!
They were here on holiday, as Dragus reminded the Seer with his clacking teeth. It was not the time and place to elaborate on what was potentially controlling who... It was supposed to be a joyous occasion! It had been years since the duo had been in the same physical proximity. No, their recent interaction at the black temple on Pzob did not officially count. Though Havok had projected himself to appear as though he were physically present, he had not been. Havok had to agree with Dragus' sentiment. "Indeed. One ought not mix work with pleasure. Enough of this dour mood. We are masters of our domains and need answer to no one. For now." Which was probably true in at least one potential timeline. With that, Havok dropped his worries like he had dropped the pieces of his favorite sniper rifle that lay smashed at his feet and put on a gay face. With the sith lord's slow crooked smile, the shadowy shapes of ethereal darkness that clawed at the meltmassif stone behind him came to heel and shrunk to merge into the much smaller and conservative humanoid shadow under the dread seer's boots.
"Come Lil'Dragus!" At his reptilian brother's suggestion to celebrate, Lord Havok called Lil'dragus from the shadows, hoping that the walking blob of an ewok had gotten himself eaten by a ranat-ogre or crushed into ewok-doh. It would have gotten the night's celebrations off to a good start... Havok was disappointed when the furry embodiment of "dia'beetus" trundled into the dim light with his fleshy folds jiggling as if to say, "Here I am. Gaze upon my supreme fatness!" Upon further examination, and to his dismay, Havok noted that circular avatar of his fellow sith lord had somehow managed to get fatter. "Did you get bigger...?" The aura around the furry boi tugged on the glowing threads of the force, as if seeking to eat them.
It occurred to Havok that Lil-Dragus was the embodiment of values that Dragus cultivated --the self that Dragus strived for-- and if there was one thing the seer loved the most- (well, in the top three-... top five? No. Better make it in the top ten...)--- it was Dragus and his brothers. At the thought, Havok involuntarily patted the pudgy avatar... and found the avatar's fur to be incredibly soft! No, impossibly soft! He quickly collected himself, partially ashamed that it felt so good to stroke the little creature. He didn't want to like it, but nevertheless he did. As predictable as the holo-soap operas that he guiltily watched when he was certain no one was watching, Havok knew that the little bastard was going to grow on him (metaphorically and probably literally as well). The Seer crossed his arms contemplating the foreseeable future. Was it a bad future? Avatar of the Famine Lord: the ewok appeared fat and odious by Havok's standards. But the creature's force aura spoke of more power than meets the eye. Hand selected by Dragus (or grown, bred or mutated, or whatever genetic magics Dragus was into these days), Havok suspected he was dramatically underestimating the avatar. Perhaps even more powerful than met the EYE's eye. Perhaps underneath the avatar's bloated exterior lurked the embodiment of Dragus' distilled attributes and vitality. If Dragus was harmed... then this avatar might be the most precious tome and tool to allow Havok to restore Dragus to life and limb! Havok's chest swelled with pride at the thought. No it was not a bad future. And just like that, Havok's thoughts turned from premeditated ewok-icide to the protective violence of a feral nightewok over its cub.
Lil'Draggy looked up at Havok and said nothing. The ewok blinked its watery eyes and twitched its little whiskery black nose. Behind that little furry fatty, the shadows contained no trace of the ranat or ogre that Havok had slain earlier.
"Fireworks? How delightful!" Havok looked away from the ewok, in search of something more aesthetically pleasing to stare at, and settled on Dragus' swirling, hungering essence in the force. Havok watched that mesmerizing black hole as they climbed the many steps to the roof. He didn't want to bring up the whole blindness thing; Brother Dragus was so excited for the display. Havok didn't want to be a downer... again.
There it was, and a wonderful solution, in theory. At his master's order a ranat appeared on stilts, to stand wobbling beside Havok, apparently dedicated to squeaking in the sith's ear the entire time, attempting to describe all goings-on for the seer's benefit.
"An orbital bombardment?" Golan Platforms in orbit? Oh right, the ones he navigated the Beowulf around. Havok squinted his eyes as if he was reading an invisible set of schematics. "Hmmm. They have enough firepower to level the tower we are standing on... and turn most of this island into an atoll. Tsk. But everything dies eventually..." Havok regularly saw the barriers of life and death break down as time itself yielded to his sight. The thought was merely a reflexive intrusive thought, not a premonition, right? Havok raised his eyebrows and stopped himself from proceeding down that path of thought, remembering his internal commitment to frivolity. "Apologies Brother, I'm trying not to be such a downer!" he laughed.
Lil'Dragus peaked over the lip of the fortress wall to try to see the fireworks that his taller, scaley-er original and former flock leader had promised. When none were forthcoming, he looked around, flicking his pink little tongue over his lips, in search of something to eat.
Above them the shimmering light of the fortress' shield disappeared after the explosion in the woods. Havok's seeing-eye Ranat was suddenly very excited and started shouting, trying to describe the entire scene at once from the distant explosion, to Lord Dragus' look of disapproval at Squeakers. The mouse was practically jumping up and down on his stilts.
Just to get away from the rat shouting in his ear, Havok sprang from the ground to the narrow lip of the tower railing. The Ranat, suddenly panicking at the prospect that the blind Seer might not hear him, began shouting louder and teetering around the tower in his stilts to try to get close to Havok, who did not want to be next to the obnoxious, loud rodent. "I'm blind! Not deaf!" The Sith's words were in stark contrast to his actions: the blind seer danced around on the railing, skipping, hopping and running to evade the stilted maus-keteer. Havok's balance and acrobatics were superb. While the rail was only centimeters wide, the dread lord moved along it with an ease and unnatural grace, as if it had been a broad thoroughfare.
With the PA announcement and the beginning of the countdown, there was trouble in the air. But it probably wasn't critical since the backup shield generator would kick in momentarily... The shout-y Ranat seemed to read Havok's mind, exclaiming that the backup had not been installed yet due to the generous tinker-rat union parental leave policy that had been applied after a short tinker-rat strike at the island paradise. (The parental leave policy complemented the generous sick leave that alpha squad was enjoying.)
Havok stopped strolling along the rail to stand frustrated, hands on his hips, approaching denial. Surely this was a drill! No. Based on the frantic activity he saw from the ranats and work crews in the courtyard below, it was not drill. A joke? Surely this was a joke! A most excellent jest! Havok closely watched Dragus' tail for Dragus' pazaak tell. No. The Barabel's tail did not appear to be twitching in restrained self-satisfaction.
Havok's mind blew past consideration of the realm of mistakes and entered the land of paranoia (must have been the fire scotch). "No this is a pretense, a con, a ruse, I'll wager! Malingering, the lot of you!" Havok stood on the edge of the tower with the beautiful blue Rishi ocean as a backdrop as he yelled at the ranat around him. "Trying to put one over on the Lords of the Eye? Well, there's no way we'll fall for that!" Havok crowed, his eyes glinting white with defiance. Havok's choice of words was very poor indeed, as he tripped and stumbled backwards, stepping off the edge of the tower and into the empty space beyond the rail. Havok stepped backwards once, twice, thrice, cartoonishly hanging in the air for a moment longer before realizing there was nothing beneath his feet but the foaming white surf and roaring white breakers beating on the cliff-face below.
In seconds, Havok hit the white sea-foam in a belly flop, leaving a Havok-shaped outline under the waves.
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,190
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Dragus on Oct 26, 2023 5:28:32 GMT -8
"Havok!" Cried Dragus as he watched his brother tumble from the tower top towards the churning surf smashing into the rocky cliff the foul Fort Ewok was built upon. Time seemed to slow as the saurian Sith sped in predatory pursuit after his stumbling sibling as he fell over the railing, which even the Famine Lord was impressed the ewok engineers had put into place. Curled talons more reminiscent of butchers hooks slashed through the air as he reached for the visually impaired Seer, only to come up empty as he was a fraction of a second too slow, slamming into the railing himself with such force that the bars bent around his scaly black form. All the twisted terrorsaur could do was watch as his pasty pal plunged into the depths below, leaving a cartoonish depression of the Onderonian's outline in the brine. Without thinking the dastardly drake shed his cadaverous attire and prepared to dive after his fellow Sith, when the gnarled paws of Squeakers grasped his tail and hauled the hateful Hakusar back from the edge, following up with a flurry of rapidly delivered expletives as he returned the Hungering One's attention to the more pressing problem.
Dragus snarled and raised his right claw, obsidian talons glinting in the moonlight that cast a low luminous glow over the Great Devourer's palace of perversion, his bloody red gaze wide with rage and his fangs bared in frothing fury. Fortunately common sense prevailed and the lecherous lizard's claw never fell across his furry follower, stopping just shy of the flinching rodent's fear stricken form. "Right, the orbital bombardment." He said, acknowledging the greater danger as the seconds continued to tick away. As the countdown ticked down to fifteen, a stroke of genius sparked inside the clone's spice addled grey-matter, firing neurons that tickled his senses and caused smoke to bleed from his earholes. Perhaps there was a way to rescue Havok and advert his beloved island's destruction at the same time. While he couldn't say with any certainty that his brother knew how to swim, he'd have to hope at the very least he knew how to tread water. Extending a flexed claw to the sky, the Famine Lord drew deep on the wellspring of his own hate and borrowed everything else from the swirling nexus of Force currents draw from across the planet into the blackstone fortress beneath his talon tipped toes, then threw the psychic manifestation of his self towards the cold depths of space.
Soul separated from body and streaked across the aether, ascending higher and higher as the Pater Mutatis' traversed the astral plane to haunt the verminous minds of the ranats crewing Rakghoul Station in orbit. There was no time to waste, no time to haunt or to frighten, not even enough time to have a little nibble on their wretched inner thoughts. Slipping into the filthy minds of the rodents occupying the gunner stations, he made his will manifest in the actions of their scabrous flesh, adjusting their aim a few fractions of an inch at the very last moment. As the Golan III NovaGun's plethora of cannons erupted with unrelenting fire, those crimson lances streaked towards the planet, just a smidge off their originally intended mark. Blinding brilliant red light plunged into the ocean depths a few kilometers from the beach of Draggle Rock, causing the planet to rumble underfoot. The planetary barrage briefly left a steaming vacuum in the Rishi sea, but only for a moment, as the surrounding waters poured into the vacancy to fill the void. As the water crashed back down, it awoke the fury of the ocean, sending the rippling tide of a great and growing wave towards the ill fabled isle of Draggle Rock.
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Dec 16, 2023 15:54:06 GMT -8
Darth Havok felt his reptilian brother bending over the rail high above him, reaching out as he fell. Dragus's black swirling essence was unmistakable. The impact with the water stunned the sith lord as he sank bewildered in the churning surf.
Regaining his wits, the blind sith lord moved his arms in an attempt to swim, but found that his disorganized thrashing could not propel him upwards. He could have sworn that he could swim... but perhaps that was a part of him that was fractured and left in time, in all the scrying and weaving of the threads of fate. Who could tell at this point? The dread seer looked up through the water at the tower, weighed down by his armored jumpsuit. Below the blind seer the seafloor rose until his boots finally touched the sandy bottom.
Wildlife approached to investigate the black-clad figure. Giant eels and crustatians climbed out of piles of bare ranat-ogre bones--- picked clean by the aquatic fauna. The bones had likely arrived at their resting place when they had slipped and fell-- or were pushed-- from the tower (potentially when their lord's caprices or displeasure had required sacrifice or appeasement.) Around him a giant eel swam, eyeing his size to determine if the man could be swallowed whole...
The dread lord stood on the bottom in the wavering currents and watched the bubbles leave his mouth in slow motion to float up for the surface. "If you do nothing, the story ends. Just inhale water, and find rest and peace..." Havok could hear his mother's jedi voice calling to him as the need to breath was rising in his chest, pounding with urgency. That bitch. Havok did not regret spacing her. If he had not walked his own path he would not have found true power. He would not have even found his brothers. He only wished there was a way he could kill her more than once. His burning hate for his mother was neither here nor there- for without air the sith lord would eventually sucum to the seas of Rishi and join the bones strewn around him. "Peace is a lie..." Havok observed. "There are only those who eat... or are eaten!" The giant eel circled Havok close enough for Havok to see his reflection in the eel's eye. Not a conventional reflection as normal humans might see, but the metaphorical reflection in the threads of the force in the eel's mind. Havok could see the creature's naked hunger as it opened its mouth in a silent roar, ready to devour its prey, and charged the seer.
Havok used the force to push the eel's head to the side, and redirect it's gapping mouth with jagged teeth. With his bare hands, the dread lord gripped the head and jamming his fingers into the animal's gills. The eel spasmed before it went still, as a dark network of tendrils weaved across the ichthyoid's skin until its eyes when dark and vacant. Havok rolled his shoulders, eyes closed, pulling the oxygen from the animal's bloodstream until the dark seer's chest rose, filled with air again. Opening his eyes, he could once again exhale and blow out more bubbles to watch their mesmerizing journey to the surface. While acquainted with some Danthomiri magics used to control and mind-link with rancor (preserving its life), Havok actually used a certain obscure Anzati magic from his studies of their culture, more in line with making a living victim a single-serving thrall. Havok's fingers jabbed into the eel's nerves and shot minute electrical force lightning impulses with his fingers, forcing the creature to jerk and freeze as he straddled it and then forced it to swim, aiming for the rocks.
With a flash of light filtering into the deep water, Havok felt a tremendous thunderous concussion that vibrated the water. The orbital bombardment!
Immediately thereafter, the dark waters around him began dropping as if a giant hand had pulled a plug from a drain in the bottom of the seafloor. Perceiving that the deadly strike had been reflected into the sea, Havok set the eel to task, spurring it on with his heels. There wasn't a moment to lose! Havok gripped the eel even as the suction and pull of the receding waters ripped at his body, trying to unseat him and pull him out to sea. Through his iron grip and pulses of lightening from his fingers, the eel's large body twitched and shuddered forward against the flow of the ocean, dragging its blind rider forward towards the base of the dark tower until he could reach out and put his hands on the solid rock foundation of Draggle Rock. Havok clutched the stone with his might, even as the suction of the receding waters dragged his abandoned eel-mount out from beneath him.
The water roared in his ears until, after a moment, the dread lord found himself exposed to the air and standing on wet sand. Around him the battered coral and exposed bones that had been resting in the pounding surf were all gone, pulled out to the sea. In the distance, he could see the water rushing further out away from the island, leaving him drying in the warm tropical air. In uneven pools of remaining water, the eel and other creatures tremored and twitched as they suffocated unable to remain submerged in the small tidal pools.
High above Havok, the tower loomed from whence he fell, still presumably filled with the malingering traitors, as well as his vulnerable brother and pudgy avatar. He could not leave his brother there, surrounded by those villains! With uncanny grace and alacrity, Havok bounded and leaped from crag to crag and perch to perch, up the rocky foundation of the island, until he landed on a small outcrop where the base of the black stone of the fortress sat, clashing with the lighter natural rock of the island. Behind his back, the ocean had reversed and was flowing back towards Dragglerock, growing into a rumbling wall of water.
Havok continued his acrobatic climb like a spider, finding invisible places to grip and stand where the blackrock appeared smooth and featureless. His climb was a race as the tsunami approached. With a final vertical leap, the dread seer cleared the water that dashed against the tower, and swung himself over the railing he had fallen from.
It was gratifying to see his brother; much less gratifying to see the ranat still scampering around his fellow high lord of sin. With the force, Havok slapped each ranat to the ground (including the ranat on stilts) with an invisible hand and pinned them to await Dragus' judgment. "Your attempt to lie to not one, but two lordsh of the eye, ish bold." The Sith's speech was now slurred. If Dragus was the overindulgent winebibber of the sith family, Havok was generally the light-weight tea-totaller. The fire scotch from Dragus' private reserve had been of extraordinary proof and dragon-grade strength. It had hit the seer, after a delay, like a Tarentatek fist as his imperial medical implants struggled to scrub the weapons-grade intoxicant from his system.
Havok levitated one of the terrified ranats into the air, as the seer belched flammable fire-scotch fumes into its face. "But you schouldn't lie to ush." Havok booped the rat's nose, causing its rodent's eyes to well up in tears. It blubbered for its life, asking the seer for mercy because of his 136 pups at home, his wife with a peg-leg, and wanting to see the completion of the unfinished masterpiece portrait of Dragus as "Venus on the half shell" on the ceiling of Dragus' chambers. Havok ignored the plea, "We are here to guide the galaxshy," burp "to perfection." With another burp, Havok keeled over, his glassy eyes closed, overcome by the liquor.
"Cardiac arrest detected, stand clear." The datapad on Havok's wrist announced. After a moment, Havok's other medical implants all fired simultaneously, and jerked the blind seer awake with a jolt of electricity dancing over his body. "GAHH!!" Havok yelled as he sat up with a gasp, gritting his teeth and clutching his sternum. "What the hell just happened!!?" he exclaimed, his milky eyes wide. The datapad on his wristgauntlet chirped a response. "Cardiac arrest detected. Treatment administered. Treatment was successful."
The adorable obese avatar, Lil'Dragus, was sitting down, licking his paw, as the ranat felt themselves all released from the invisible hands pinning them to the ground.
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Dragus
The Sith Eternal
In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
Posts: 1,190
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Dragus on Feb 19, 2024 9:02:58 GMT -8
Dragus was delighted to see his Seer brother returned to him, spewed from the depths of the sea like an oily wad of Sithly phlegm, then ascending back to the tower's top like a trained kowakian monkey lizard in a Nar Shaddaa circus. Unfortunately, as the dark lord of Famine beheld his brine dampened kin, it seemed the sea had shaken the Onderonian's senses and addled his wits. The Hungering One had seen this sort of thing before. Salt madness, the sea-rats called it. Usually happened when the ranat sailors of Dragusport took to swallowing mouthfuls of salt water when the rum ran out. The only solution to his knowledge was a hard slap across the face. Drawing deep from the wellspring of infinite hate, the black scaled barabel focused the currents of the darkside into his right palm and prepared to deliver a Bacca level blow to the side of Havok's head, when the mad prophet passed out and keeled over. Blue forks of electricity danced between his talon tips as He-Who-Hungers stood over his collapsed kin, whose attached technology voiced was having a heart attack. "Oh my." Gasped a startled saurian Sith, prodding Havok's corpse with the flat of his tail back rather than the lethal tip. A jolt of electricity and the Seer snapped back up, seeming to have survived his ordeal much to his crocodilian companion's surprise. Bending over, he offered Havok his claw and assisted the other Sith back to his feet."Seemz you sssurvived your ssswim." Hissed a satisfied terrorsaur, resting his left claw on his hip and pointing with the right out beyond the island towards the Bay of Dragus, where the ocean appeared to have been drained right down to the bottom. "But I wouldn't praissse the Eye jussst yet." Out beyond the no-mans land of exposed ocean bottom, a great and growing wave was rolling towards them, large enough to wash the island and the castle they were standing upon right off the map. The rat men that had previously been pressed to the ground by Havok's invisible hand huddled together, whimpering in rat-speech at they spied the doom approaching them. The pudgy furred avatar of Famine wrapped two fuzzy fat arms around the Dread Seer's leg, squeezing it tightly. The encroaching tsunami was like the angry hand of a sea god seeking vengeance for the orbital bombardment of the ocean. In his place next to his fellow High Lord, the saurian sorcerer withdrew his chestnut fur covered grimoire, bound to his person by a Sith iron chain. Rapidly he flipped through the twi'lek vellum pages of the Ewokinomicon, seeking an answer within his repository of alchemical knowledge. He could cast a spell that would temporarily move the castle into an adjacent pocket dimension, but that was a temporary solution at best. It wouldn't do to reappear in the same spot when the island was washed away beneath them, else the castle would be swallowed by the depths of the sea soon after. Perhaps if he and Havok combined their telekine abilities to arrest the wave? No, even as powerful as they were, he doubted it would be enough. Plus it seemed rude to ask his guest to perform extraneous labour on his behalf, even if it meant his survival as well.Dragus crossed his arms and stroked his scaled triceps roughly, lips pursed in annoyance as a solution to their current dilemma eluded him. Out in the harbour, the antique Rishi Man-of-War known as the 'Lady of Pzob' rested on the ocean bottom, its oaken figurehead in the shape of a spectacle wearing female Fallanassi in fascist uniform was pointed directly towards the incoming tidal wave. Turned another 180 degrees, the old naval vessel's Sith iron cannons might have been able to disperse the wave with a volley from its gun decks. The wyrd shot was derived from exonium after all, creating a sonic blast when the shells exploded, further charged by the alchemical black-powder used to launch them. Sadly the ship was angled the wrong way for a broadside barrage. The expensive antique was as likely to be smashed to kindling as the castle was when the wave reached them. Yet as their impending death seemed an inevitable outcome, the island beneath them began to shake, causing the castle to rumble as well as its very foundation was disturbed by tectonic activity. Oceans birds cawed and burst from the jungle at the centre of Draggle Rock, while lines formed across the beach as the ground split and sand slipped through large cracks in the surface. Around the castle, sulphurous geysers of methane and toxic gas vented from fractures in the rock, veiling Fort Ewok in an obscuring cloud."That can only be one thing!" Snarled an exasperated Hakusar, his bloody right eye going wide with shock, while the rodents around him trembled in fear. "Umaroth! The Doomssslither approachez!" Around the base of the island, the mucky ground began to rise as something beneath the mud displaced the wet dirt, moving in a long line from beneath the castle out across the empty sea towards the gigantic wave. The protruding ground weaved back and forth as a monstrous form slithered just out of visible sight, until two hundred feet out from fortress an eruption of the sea bed signalled the titan's emergence. It defied description in the sheer scale of its size and the terror its presence projected, a creature so charged with sorcerous energy and warped by the maniacal mutagens of the Pater Mutatis, the Doomslither rose up until its gargantuan head matched the height of the thunderous force of nature rolling in towards shore. Practically a force of nature itself, dark storm clouds formed in the sky above the ruinous Sith Wyrm that served as the sacred guardian of Draggle Rock, its mere presence effecting the planet's weather system. The creature was more amenable to commands following Dragus and Rebellious' mission to bring the beast to heel, though no one was pulling its strings now. Feeling the urge to serve in its role of island protector, the Doomslither stared down the wave that was almost upon them, and shrieked.SSSSSSHHHHHRRRREEEEAAAAA!!!! Screeching as loud as the coaxial laser of the Death Star, Umaroth let loose a terrible cry that echoed across the sea, reaching across the vast emptiness all the way to the far off mountains where the Rishii tribes of bird folk made their nests. The sonic screech was so potent it vibrated the air, resonating reality in an expanding cone of sound that pulsed towards the rushing wave, splitting it down the centre. Where one moment the wave was a singular intact destructive wall of water, down the middle it broke apart, spreading into two separate waves that surged past the island on either side, filling the muddy ocean bottom and taking the beached sea creatures with its salty flow. Rather that washing Draggle Rock into the sea, the ocean waters slowly filled in the gaps, rising to their former height without swallowing the island. The residual kinetic force carried past the Famine Lord's summer home, heading in the direction of Razorback island instead.Dragus cackled at their fortunate turn of events, patting Havok on the shoulder as he nodded appreciatively in the direction of the great serpent out at sea, slowly descending back into the depths of the ocean. "Excellent. Siss, Siss, Siss. I knew that wyrm waz going to come in handy, even if it did eat mossst of the island'z ranat population when I firssst made the thing." He shrugged, waving a claw dismissively. "Lessonz learned. The gorog will be far more manageable when I awaken it on Roon. I'd bring it here but the resssulting kaiju battle between the Doomssslither and World Shaker would probably tear the planet apart."
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Feb 24, 2024 14:38:14 GMT -8
Work in progress >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The Sith Lord Havok looked at the Barabel's outstretched scaley paw. The seer's eyes were unfocused and distant as if he had just returned from a long journey. To one unfamiliar to Dragus, his hand would appear monsterous and threatening like a durasteel vear-trap. Havok paused, as Dragus reminded him of the events moments ago.
Havok took Dragus' hand, as the Eye's pre-eminent apothecary assisted the blind high lord to his feet.
"I believe I departed from the land of the living." Easy to explain. "Perhaps only for a moment, but it felt far longer..." It would be far harder to explain what it was like, or what had gone on there. "Lord Mortale sends his regards, dear brother." The dark seer briefly met him after the necromancer had apparently gone on a hunt for Starweirds. It seemed absurd for the seer to watch the Death Lord skin their non-corporeal forms with his skeletal hands wreathed in blue flame, all while Havok tried not to touch anything for fear that he would get stuck on that plane of existence, prior to his pre-ordained time.
"I most certainly would praise the Eye even if..." Havok could hear the rustling of tanned skin pages, and stopped speaking when he realized Darth Dragus was no longer listening but consulting a book. The ewokinomicon, unless Havok's hearing was mistaken- difficult to tell with the whimpering ranats about, and the distant rumbling....
Havok felt the pudgy hands of Lil'dragus, the exquisite avatar of the famine-lord, grip the seer's leg, trembling. "There, there, rotund one." Havok patted the avatar's furry little head and stroked those sooooooooooooft widdle ears.
Meanwhile the low rumbling in the distance was becoming a low vibration in the stone, as if a low-flying star destroyer was approaching, and the bass of its engines was shaking the bedrock of the island. Suddenly, there was a foul smelling cloud that ruptured from the ground with a collective Hisssssssss, like a thousand crystal wryms. It reeked like the vile farts of a million Hutts.
Havok was about to make a joke about the smell being similar to that one time that Seleevan Khar baked Bacca a poison cake for his birthday, and it turned out not to be poisonous, but only was something with which the Abysian's digestive system was intolerant. After a single, tremendous, eye-watering flatus, the Cyclops and the demi-god of the Vors had it out. Well, to put it bluntly, Havok didn't quite remember the Cyclopse' retribution. That also was a night that Havok drank Fire Scotch, and passed out, only to awaken with drawings of various xeno-organs tattooed and carved onto his face. Havok had to get extensive skin grafts to regain his dignity, and plotted Lord Ka'an's death for some time after that, but that was a story for another time.
Before Havok could make said fart joke, the giant exogorth under the castle emerged onto the scene.
"The Doom Slitherer!"
Now, that was really quite the sight! Definitely worth the price of admission to see the exceptional specimens of Lord Dragus' menagerie. Havok's fingers found their way into his ear canals a moment before Umaroth projected the most powerful sound that had graced Rishi's atmosphere in millennia.
"Oh, well, if you ever grow tired of Rishi, the fight would make for a wonderful farewell to the planet." Havok did not hear Dragus' words over the din, so much as read their vibrations across the threads of the force that circled the event horizon of the black hole of emptiness and hunger that was the Famine Lord.
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