Private A Hunger for Darkness

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: Credius Nargath

Deep within the abyss, where light fears to tread...

The air was thick with the scent of ancient decay and the whispers of spirits long forgotten. A cold, unnatural wind howled through the great black chamber, carrying with it the echoes of suffering from the abyss below. It was a sound that pleased Darth Callidus, a reminder of the eternal torment that awaited those too weak to grasp true power.

Seated upon her throne of jagged obsidian, she was a figure of still, calculating menace. The throne itself, carved from the remains of a world shattered by Sith sorcery, loomed over the wailing abyss—a chasm from which the cries of the damned never ceased. Her amber gaze, cold and piercing, rested upon the chamber's entrance, awaiting the arrival of her guest. The presence of Lord Credius, the Lord of Hunger, had been requested. The Sith Order stood fractured, its lords grasping at power like starving beasts circling a fresh kill. The question was not whether this strife could be controlled but how best to wield it. Power thrived in chaos, but even the Dark Side demanded direction.

Callidus mused on the nature of the Sith, the eternal cycle of betrayal and ascendancy. It was the way of their kind, an unrelenting struggle where only the strongest endured. Yet strength alone was not enough; understanding was just as crucial. The Dark Side was not simply a means to power, but a crucible of will. It was hunger and satisfaction, destruction and creation. Many Sith mistook their hunger for power as an end in itself, but Callidus knew better. To wield the Dark Side was not merely to take, but to understand the nature of desire, to manipulate the forces that governed all living things.

Credius, she suspected, understood this as well. They were alike in many ways—both saw the Sith not as a rabble of self-destructive warlords, but as a force that could be honed, directed, and exploited to greater ends. The Sith did not need unity; it was an illusion, a cage for the weak. But they did need purpose. That was where the others failed, lost in their petty feuds, unable to see beyond the next betrayal.

Credius had his difficulty with the hunger, but where others surrendered to it, he fought to control it still.

Her fingers curled against the cold stone of her throne. The shadows around her seemed to shift, responding to her thoughts as though alive. A ripple in the Force stirred the chamber. He was coming.

A small, knowing smile touched Callidus' lips, though there was no warmth in it. The Dark Side pulsed in the abyss below, eager for the blood yet to be spilled.

And Callidus was eager to begin.

 

[Credius Nargath]

LOCATION: Denab, Dark Sepulcher
OBJECTIVE: POWAH!!
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | The Usurper | The guards | The Enforcer
TAG: Darth Callidus


...You will only find monsters.
​

The Ascendant Order, a group of likeminded and powerful individuals whose goals aligned for the time being, whose vision wasn't clouded by the fascetious desires of others to appease some sort of religious aspect within the Sith Order. They all knew to respect, suspect and fear the others in this new order, each had their own specialties, their own skills and their own weight to put in the balance. Yet for now, each of the figures behind this Ascendant Order found themselves in a proper stalemate, the perfect balance to keep eachother on their toes, to maintain a healthy relation in which none had the upper hand. After all, while Imperius and Callidus were truly powerful, with great potential... they were both significantly more powerful and yet at the same time significantly less powerful than the Lord of Hunger. It was this contradiction which seemed to keep Credius from asserting his dominance within this group, but most likely both the Heir of Tenebrea and the Shadow Hand were well aware of this constantly shifting power balance.

Footsteps could be heard, heavy and metallic, with no hesitation to be heard. Like the boots of a marching army, these footsteps were rhytmical, full of confidence and acted as a thunderous heralding of the man who had become a true monster; The Lord of Hunger. With his arrival, so too spread the cold and dread he so naturally exuded, with this aura's intensity being a rather useful gauge to understand the depth of his power at that very moment. What could be felt now, the dread and the drifting bone-chilling icy breeze which rolled out into the air before him, was certainly stronger than what he had displayed on Pergitor, yet less intense than what had been practically palpable on the waystation.

Despite the rather flamboyant armor the Lord of Hunger would wear, it was not the shiny metal which could be seen at first, as from within the shadows, his inhuman eyes, like predatory orbs of gold and crimson, seemed to light up with a twisted intensity, before the deep, hollow breathing could be heard, the footsteps amplifying the weight in his arrival.

"A very interesting place, you have here... Darth Callidus," A dry, somewhat neutral sounding chuckle escaped through the helmet's voicebox, adding to the arrogance that dripped within the Lord of Hunger's tone of voice. "Though since this is no rift...could it be...a nexus?"

 

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: Credius Nargath

Callidus smiled, the expression more calculated than warm, as she cast a fleeting glance toward the Lord of Hunger. The glow of her eyes—two burning coals in the abyssal darkness—reflected the ceaseless desire that simmered beneath her composed exterior. Very little escaped Credius's notice. That was to be expected. A being of his experience, his insight, did not ascend through the ranks of the Sith without learning to see beyond deception, beyond the veil of words and facades.

"Quite right," she admitted, her voice a smooth purr that reverberated in the cavernous chamber. She gestured with one elegant, clawed finger toward the unseen depths of the Sepulcher, the very walls of which pulsed with a silent, malevolent energy. "This place—my lovely Sepulcher—is more than mere stone and shadow. It is a Nexus of the Dark Side. A powerful one. One of the strongest I have ever encountered. Its strength is unwavering. Unyielding. It demands much…" Her lips curled into something between amusement and reverence. "But it offers so much more in return."

We don't like him.

The voice slithered through her mind like a whisper carried on cold winds. Callidus stiffened, only slightly, but enough for those who truly watched to notice. The voices had always been there—whispering, muttering, watching. Ever since she had begun descending deeper into the Sepulcher's secrets, their presence had grown stronger, more insistent. More demanding. Every shard of knowledge she claimed, every fragment of power she siphoned from the abyss, carried a price. And she paid it willingly.

But still, the question lingered like a specter in the back of her mind.

When would the cost become too great?

She dismissed the thought. There was no room for weakness.

"I appreciate the haste of your arrival, Credius," Callidus said smoothly, pushing herself up from her throne in a fluid, almost predatory motion. Her fingers flicked casually through the air, and with a whisper of unseen power, the massive throne behind her trembled before vanishing into the abyss below, swallowed by the eternal dark.

"There are things that must be discussed."

The air in the chamber grew heavier, thick with anticipation, with the unspoken weight of what was to come. The Sepulcher watched. And waited.

 

[Credius Nargath]

LOCATION: Denab, dark sepulcher
OBJECTIVE: Powah
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | The Enforcer
TAG: Darth Callidus

Letting out a soft chuckle, the masked and armored Credius moved forward, only to halt in front of the basin, his eyes moving from it to the Sith Lady with a slight hint of glee visible within his vibrantly burning, inhuman eyes. There was amusement to be had in this encounter after all, whether it was a way to gain more knowledge or just outright some sort of flex from the Shadow Hand's side, it did not matter to the Lord of Hunger, as long as he was entertained, it would make the long trip to this place worth it.

"Hmm...hmm?" He wasn't quite sure if she had been distracted or heard something while she had been explaining the dark sepulcher itself. While it seemed rather subtle, Credius quickly picked up on the hesitation within her movement, the slight pause in her breathing and her voice. If he had been even a smidgen less keen on this meeting, he'd have probably missed that slight break in her character, but whatever it was, it didn't seem to be more than an instant worth of time in which Callidus' demeanor seemed to change. Considering the fact that in all honesty, he did not care for any sort of hassle she'd be dealing with, the Lord of Hunger shrugged and poured his full attention on the nexus again, barely hearing the woman continuing to speak...though when she mentioned that there were things that they had to discuss, Credius could not help but think about her earlier statement:
​

Its strength is unwavering. Unyielding. It demands much…" Her lips curled into something between amusement and reverence. "But it offers so much more in return."

"Perhaps we do indeed have quite a few things to discuss," squinting his eyes ever so slightly, the Lord of Hunger seemed to convey that he was at the very least intrigued and interested in this place and the secrets it might hold...

 

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: Credius Nargath

"Much to discuss, yes..." Callidus murmured, the words slithering off her tongue like venom. Her amber eyes flickered for a brief moment, narrowing as though listening to something only she could hear. The pause lingered—perhaps a touch too long—before she slowly turned to gaze into the abyss behind her.

Shadows coiled within the seemingly endless cavern, shifting like living things, layered upon one another in an ocean of writhing, oily blackness. It was not mere darkness—it was something deeper, something sentient. It did not speak, yet it whispered. It did not breathe, yet it cursed. This was not an absence of light, but the Dark Side of the Force made manifest, a wound in the fabric of reality that pulsed with unseen malice.

A slow, wicked smile curled Callidus' lips as she turned back to her companion.

"The Dark Sepulcher is vast, Lord of Hunger," she said, choosing to use his preferred title rather than the Darth honorific she knew he found so tedious. "I have studied it for years, yet even now, new corridors reveal themselves. Entire survey teams venture into its depths, never to be seen again. Or worse—seen again, but changed. Their minds shattered. Their flesh... altered. But the fate of disposable menials is irrelevant." She waved a hand dismissively before her expression darkened. "What matters is what they uncovered before they perished."

"You are wasting time..."

The voice slithered into her mind, a cold whisper edged with amusement. It did not belong to her companion, nor to anything that could be seen or touched. It was ancient, familiar, and unwanted.

Callidus did not react.

"You already know where this leads. You see it, don't you?"

She exhaled slowly, as if bored. If she acknowledged the voice, it would only linger. Instead, she withdrew a brittle scrap of parchment from the folds of her robes—though to call it parchment seemed a disservice. The edges were torn and uneven, the material rough and eerily organic, like tanned flesh stretched thin. She extended it toward the other Sith, the slightest smirk playing at her lips.

The ink-black letters that slithered across its surface were no ordinary script. They moved, rearranging themselves in fluid, unnatural motion, shifting between unknown tongues with a malicious, almost mocking intent. Every so often, for the briefest moment, the jagged glyphs of ancient Korriban appeared—twisted into a dialect so obscure that only a handful of scholars in the galaxy could even hope to decipher it.

"This," Callidus purred, tilting her head slightly as if listening to something unseen, "was found clutched in the stiff fingers of a dead surveyor." Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "At first, I dismissed it as another fragment of madness, to be cataloged and ignored. But then..."

She flicked a single, gloved finger toward the parchment. The symbols writhed in response, twisting and shifting until, for the briefest heartbeat, a string of coordinates emerged from the chaos—only to be swallowed again by the storm of shifting text.

"You see the pattern. You always do."

Callidus inhaled sharply, jaw tightening for the briefest moment—but the expression vanished as quickly as it had come. She would not acknowledge it. Not now.

Instead, she exhaled a quiet chuckle, her voice as smooth as ever. "It would appear the Sepulcher is speaking to us," she mused, gaze flickering toward her companion. "And it wants to show us something. I do not know what might be found at these coordinates, Credius, but there are few I would trust enough to journey there with me to discover."