Awakening(TAE ONLY)

[Skorvek]

If he wanted to unleash his creations he will need a basin of darkside power to fuel it as such he explored until he discovered underneath the Necropolis in the center he discovered a large open cavern. More then enough room for the blood he would need to spill to complete the ritual, He sent a message to the priests and others who wish to come and assists to help make this place strong as possible, As such he asked any Jedi prisoners they have left alive to be brought here for the grand sacrifice. He sent his undead to bring the few hundred of Jedi prisoners he captured down here, He looked around more and his mind already imagined what it would become, A place of blood and darkside power where beasts emerge from it transformed and reborn, Weapons with incredible abilities and powers people who wish to have gifts beyond there natural power entering and emerging reborn and refurbished with powerful gifts of there choice.


He waited simply for the others to come for he will need all the help he can get for full completion of this great task, if all goes well then this will be where the beasts of war shall emerge and be unleashed upon the galaxy against those who wish our destruction and hate everything they have built and created.

[member="Mythos"] [member="Amaunet Asira"]

 

[Amaunet Asira]

Since the moment Amaunet could feel the Force, give herself over to its flow or take it within her to bend it to her will, she had felt honored. To be bestowed with such a gift by the Gods meant that she was to do great things and thus far, she had. Rising to the level of prominence and prestige as High Priestess, she had become one of the most powerful beings a Anubian could be. She was god-touched and no being could personally touch her for she was also protected by those same gift-bestowing Gods. Still, there were others to consider and the Eye to find. It would take time, perhaps most of her lifespan, but it would be a worthy conquest. The galaxy would shudder with such an artifact made whole.

To that end, [member="Skorvek"] had invited her to help him make what he called a basin. Having never heard of this concept, she was eager to learn and then prepare for such a powerful transformation of a space. For the week preceding the transformation, she had meditated and gathered to her the Force in as tight and compact a way as she could within her. Every bit of energy within her lay meticulously organized and ready to be used. Amaunet was no necromancer, but she would be giving her energy and stability to the ritual he was performing. By the time she approached the basin, she was practically burning with energy. Her voice boomed out in the cavernous space. "I am here for thy will."

 

[Rath Exigo]

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Attn: [member="Skorvek"] | [member="Mythos"] | [member="Amaunet Asira"]​

• The Necropolis
  Erebos, Ashla System

The sleek, triangular ship glided gracefully through the atmosphere, its matte-black fiberplast plating absorbing the ambient light, giving it an ominous appearance. The fighter was new and still in development, a contraption concocted by the eggheads at Wolfe Design Bureau and Rinzler-Zetta Shipyards as part of a joint effort. Rath Exigo ace pilot, wing leader of Reaper Squadron and Crusader Lord of the Wardens of the Shroud, was given one of the prototypes and pretty much given free reign to put it through its paces for a week. There was still a lot of work to be done. The ship's weapons had not yet been installed and the advanced stealth systems that gave the new fighter its edge, were still in development but other than that, the T-77 prototype performed well. It was a difficult starfighter to pilot, due to the veritable jumble of controls, but this gave the ship a lot of flexibility and in the hands of a skilled pilot, the Talon would be a fast and incredibly nimble starfighter, capable of crazy maneuvers.

Rath Exigo was one such pilot. To him, the added challenge of the difficult controls, combined with its peculiar capabilities, made flying it pure joy. As he approached his destination, he pushed the stick forward, angling the fighter's nose down and entering a steep dive. Pushing the engines' throttle to maximum, he accelerated the fighter to maximum speed towards the rapidly approaching ground below, nevermind the fact that he was essentially piloting a ship that cost as much as a frigate and any damage would be prohibitively expensive. Exigo knew what he was doing.

As the altitude dropped to a few hundred meters, he throttled down the engines and pulled the Talon's nose up, levelling it horizontally, before accelerating again, to compensate for the sudden loss in air speed resulting from his maneuver. The conclusion was that his starfighter could turn on a dime and he knew that the eggheads back at base would be stepping over eachother to pour over the data in the flight recorder.

Throttling down, he gracefully glided towards his destination, slowing down and gradually descending, until he gently brought the fighter down onto a flat slab of rock. Stowing his helmet away, he pulled his white robe over the flightsuit and clipped his lightsaber to his belt. He had read a little about alchemy and one could never be too sure with such things. If something went wrong, who knew what could happen.

Stepping out of the fighter, he completed the last twenty-or-so meters to his destination on foot, approaching the two figures he could see in the distance. One of them was the sorcerer Skorvek, who had invited him to help with his ritual, due to his past as a priest. The other was a figure he had hoped to avoid. Amaunet Asira, the High Priestess, spiritual leader of the Anubian religion and, by extension, the Ancient Eye, was known to have very little patience towards any whom she perceived as heretics or infidels. Although his only contact with her was watching her performing her part of the rituals during various festivals and holy days, he was certain she knew who he was. Afterall, it wasn't every day that a supposed heretic priest was exiled from the priesthood, instead of being killed outright. And it wasn't every day that the exiled priest survived the desert.

Upon reaching the pair, Rath Exigo made a deep, formal bow to each of them, first the High Priestess, then the Sorcerer. "High Priestess, Lord. May the Gods light your path. May you always remain in their favor and continue to carry out their divine will," he spoke in a deep, formal tone, like the one used by priests when blessing individuals. Some habits were hard to break and Rath Exigo never stopped being a believer, regardless of the accusations brought against him and his subsequent exile.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​Erebos - The Necropolis

Straining, twisting, knotting.
Muscles snapping, craning from side to side like an anchor.
Bodies lumbering, corpses tumbling.
Hard labour. Slavery. Purpose.
Synonymous with the purposeless.
This was what they​ were good for.

​A moaning chain tugged along the half starved prisoners of Edemar, rusted and burnt with red chalk-like marks dotting every few inches. The oozing release of every foot as the other rose and fell to bear the pain of continuation. Their endless march promised to bare fruit. At some point.

​Seven prisoners. Seven Jedi, or was it just​ seven prisoners?

​One. Galu, a plump historian. His figure lasted somewhat longer, but he could not work as hard.
​Two. Arthur, he had been caught with his lover upon the night of the attack, lacking all sense of vigilance.
​Three. Ka'tro, she had stolen from Galu.
​Four. Desie, in the labour camps; she framed Sam for her mistakes. Believing herself more important.
​Five. Tristian, gave into despair; ending his life shortly after capture.
​Six. Mercala, beat Desie to death for framing Sam.
​Seven. Sam, did not deny Desie's claims and was executed.

​Each knew they would die here. Each knew, under the merciless tenure of the Chieftain. They would all die. Yet still, they turned on each other, like rats in a cage. They believed they were better, hoped they were. But the truth they clung to was one untested, the Matador was the test. And they had all failed. Only four remained. Each had fallen farther than they imagined, skin clung tight to their bone. Muscles eroded with lack of nutrition. Their hands like marrow, clinging to what rags remained of their robes.

​Force inhibitors were no longer necessary, they were barely recognisable. They were forcibly put into catatonic states on the journey from Edemar to Erebos, their bodies poisoned with chemicals to keep their hearts beating in their malnourished chests. Now, they walked. The Matador at their head, pulling them along with a black chain.

​Four prisoners. The term of Jedi no longer befit them even in their own mind, they were broken. But perhaps [member="Skorvek"] could find some use for them.

​He arrived, the hulking eight foot mass standing like a statuesque mountain of barely tolerant rage. A low prowl escaping its feral lungs as it yanked the chain forth, bringing his prisoners to bare. Eyeing [member="Amaunet Asira"] and [member="Rath Exigo"] as he bowed. So courteous, he had no such social chain to be yanked at by the neck. Red electrical eyes slowly moved from Amaunet's form to Raths, quicker from the former back to the latter, then returning his gaze to Skorvek.

​"They're all yours."

 

[Skorvek]

He stood in the center with a total of 100 of his own souls chained to the rocks as they tried to struggle free at times but they where too malnourished or sick and broken to even move a inch, He turned and looked up to the entrance to see [member="Amaunet Asira"] arrive, He has heard much about her and the power she possesses as high priestess it only proved that she was worthy of it and then some the power of will and blood was her domain as much as the power of the soul and life and death was his domain. He could feel the power surge through her like a power reactor on the verge of overload she was more then prepared for the ritual but he needed a few more souls to commence.

As he motioned for her to come down and join him he saw another arrival,[member="Rath Exigo"] he gave a intimidating glare for a moment at the outcast but he let it be when he came forth and greeted them as if a priest was blessing them. It pleased him a little that even a outcast such as him was still loyal to the customs and beliefs of the priesthood he didn't see any prisoners but perhaps he could help in another way but he shall find a use for him even if its ritual sacrifices of the souls he has collected.

The next arrival was hard to miss the warchief himself [member="The Matador"] was a powerful beast of rage and power that he could unleash at his own whim which was why he lead the war machine of the Eye, He looked to the 7 new souls he brought with him as he bowed and said they are his he wasted no time having two undead take them and link them with the other 100.

He turned to the three and spoke in his deep neutral tone. To accomplish this a great deal of energy and blood are required, Fortunately I believe these souls will be enough for the transformation, However I shall require any energy you three can provide while I perform the sacrifices in the proper sequence.

 

[Mythos]

Fashionably late as always but not for a lack of reason, If the lord of the dead required bodies and souls then Angramar would provide enough to satiate the thirst of a thousand worlds. The Archlord was not to be denied, not even by the God-King himself. One Ankhyptian Shuttle glimmering in a royal golden color flanked on each side by the elite squadron of the Neo-Blades began their descend into the dead world of Erebos. Oh how that name brought bitter memories to Mythos even now, [member="Darth Erebos"], would he be here, Zanith Zebron, the only friend he had in this world. His brother and companion in thick and thin, warrior of the One Sith and king of Shawken... "Were are you my brother? I need you now"

A massive formation of royal vessels began to make dock and in the center one large barge containing no less than three hundred of the healthiest, most fit and motivated servants of the Angramar. They were well fed, chanting their choruses and praising the Gods of the sand the entire way to the basin. Each had been clothed properly, no chains were needed for them as they were lead by one of the Anubian priests in charge of their "Services". Of course, duing the difficult labor some lost faith but the lack of faith was simply the gods weeding out the unworthy of the paradise of Nialthia. Such was not the case with this batch, these were faithful and motivated servants and the call of the Lord of the Dead only gave them the hope of further enlightenment.... but the presence of the God-King himself? That made them downright estatic. Little did they know what their souls would be cast into...

It did not matter to the Magnus.

He exited the shuttle with an escort of the finest warriors in Angramar and Ankhypt, golden armored and lightsabers in hand as well as the Nubian Strike Force team Saber with him during this mission. The rudis and skull with him as always and here they would come most useful, they were a nexus of pure power and he knew exactly what was going to happen. The march towards the Lord of the Dead was long because of the numbers but it was far from difficult, his sacrifices unlike the ones from Edemar would not show any ressistance or require anything more than a finger to point in the direction where they should go.

When he arrived, he noticed now finally his Chefitan, the High Priestess and the... leader of Reaper Squadron? His eyes lingered on the ace pilot for a second and granted him a welcoming smile. "Good to see you so far from a dogfighting training Rath, I trust reaper squadron is giving those pencil neck technicians at command trouble" He said with a jest and chuckle before extending his hand in greeting. "I hope to see more of you in the ground, Know i envy those who guard the skies... sometimes i wish i could trade places"

His eyes then turned bacl to the high priestess and gave her a short, traditional bow. "Priestess Amaunet, The Gods grant you power and beauty increasing of every day. Blessed are you in their light"

To his cheiftain he simply gave a nod and and a salute, fist in his chest. They never had to exchange more than that to know what the mission, the task and the battle was. "You seem to get bigger every day Matador. Whatever you are eating keep cooking"

Finally... the one he dreaded to look at... the being that had crawled his soul from the nertherworld... the reason he was alive today.

Skorvek.

His salute was nothing, his eyes shined a yellow sheen and he knew that now was the time to cut with the pleasentries and get down to buissness. His servants stopped chanting, perhaps now they knew why, being here in this place of pure death, why there where here. "Archlord... I have brought the best of Angramar to your basin. We begin at your command"

[member="Amaunet Asira"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Rath Exigo"]@Skorvek​

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The Matador stood a few feet from Skorvek, bowing his head slightly as he acknowledged the Necromancer. ​"Lord Necromancer." ​The head rose, turning slightly as one eye lingered on the slaves behind him as he yanked the chain forward. Pulling the line of malnourished Jedi onto their knees in front of the Necromancer. ​"Direct and I will follow." ​Came the next words from the large beast of a man.

​Eyes lingered on the Basin as he joined Skorvek on the steps above the seeping red that sunk deep into the pool beneath them. This basin stank of death, of blood and dark magic. He felt its lingering influence on his mind as the thirst to kill pulled at his mind, his hand twitching, fantasizing excessive slaughter.

He would hold no pretence that he knew what the Necromancer had planned, nor attempt to circumvent his ritual through interference. Himself, the Monarch and the others were here to assist the Necromancer in his ritual, nothing more. The stage was his.

[member="Mythos"] | [member="Skorvek"] | [member="Rath Exigo"] | [member="Amaunet Asira"]​