Blasphemous Malenchantments

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aas1Qrksls​

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Thunder rumbled in the skies above as the heavens sundered and unleashed the torrential seasonal rains that so often battered the inhabitants of Panatha's dark jungles. Yet the rains were not solely insistent on staying within the confines of the sprawling tropics that dominated the landscape for the clouds lorded over the mountains and the arid plateaus between them as well. Yet not many plants grew upon the barren outcroppings of stone and hard dirt, and so when the rains finally wore down the hard crust they transformed the inhospitable landscape into a field of turgid sinkholes comprised of bubbling sludge. Occasionally one poor beast or ignorant traveler would get caught in the harrowing rain, and would fall prey to the voracious mud it created and their bones forever encased in dirt and grime once the land dried up.

The only structure for a hundred hundred miles was the towering fortress of Vain Hollow, known in the native tongue as Tui Gak'r Pioq - the God's Peak, which was carved out from a lone mountain stranded in the wastelands. It was the only safe refuge in a land that constantly sought to swallow up the unfortunate, which is exactly the reason for its construction as it stood as a symbol of the God-King's divine might to live in a place that the rest of the Epicanthix species avoided with great care and concern. Yet the towering citadel was but the tip of the iceberg, for deep beneath the fetid earth spanned an entire labyrinthine complex of dungeons, research facilities, and other ghastly chambers too horrid to describe. It was in these lightless reaches that the God-King of the Epicanthix now toiled, the Dark Side undulating with latent power.

He stood in a chamber of archaic design, the only illumination being generated by scones hooked to the walls carved from the bones of Panatha's native beasts. Before him were a quartet of Togorians stripped bare of all clothing and secured to separate mechanical slabs that could be adjusted to any angle imaginable. For now they were kept at a smooth forty-five degrees as a group of emancipated creatures poked and probed their naked flesh, taking measurements, and trimming down unruly patches of hair. The God-King only watched for now, his body cloaked in a shroud of tattered darkness that seemed to meld with the dim lighting of the chamber, but his eyes glowed bright like candles in the blackness.

Every so often one of the Togorians would rage against his restraints, uttering curses through the gag firmly affixed to his face, and attempting to claw the creatures that fawned over his form. It was a useless gesture born of hopelessness and desperation, there was no way for the Togorians to wrench themselves free of the shackles that bound them. They had been specifically crafted to restrain such powerful creatures with the interior of the shackle being studded with hooked barbs that dug into the soft flesh of the wrist and ankle with if one didn't stay completely still. Obviously that didn't dissuade one of them from continually trying to break free despite the blood that stained and matted his dark brown fur, but eventually the loss of blood would cause him to tire out.

These furred wretches used to be inmates at the now demolished New Caross TG-1 Labor Camp that had been established shortly after the One Sith occupation of Togoria, and considering that the galactic Togorian population had been reduced to abysmal numbers the God-King needed to get his hands on as many Togorians as was humanly possible. The Togorians had always been an unruly people with ties too close to the Mandalorians for the God-King's tastes, and thus he had tried his damnest to quell them into submission but had ultimately failed which is why he resorted to such genocidal measures to limit their population.

Now their homeworld was a barren wasteland, and their people endangered. But the Dark Lord of the Sith had plans for the survivors.

Dark plans.

 

[inactivechar01]

Ansgar had never been to the far reaches of the galaxy where Panatha lied, neither had he ever stepped foot in the unholy fortress of Vain Hollow. Standing in the hostile environment around it was enough to tell him that he did not even want to. The castle carved into the mountain and the forces of nature that only tore at all forms of life but those resilient enough to survive was as intimidating as its holder - [member="Darth Carnifex"]. Nonetheless, the apprentice made his way through the cold and steep corridors of the castle towards where the dark side of the Force called him.

His senses were wide open to his surroundings and the Bpfasshi could feel the 'tendrils' of hate that pulled him further down and down the staircases of the fortress. It was not Darth Carnifex's hatred or malice that were the source, no. Ansgar had, more or less, been able to develop at least the ability to distinguish between familiar and non familiar sources of feelings that the Force made available to his senses. A few more turns left and right, and Ansgar found the source of the hatred mixed with a desperate will to live and a will to let go.

Glancing at his Master, he could only tell that murdering the chained Togorians was not at all on his mind unfortunately for the captured ones. Ansgar decided to remain silent and try to control the fear that grew within him. The apprentice's disgust of the scenery before him was pushed back with the feeling of necessity. It was only natural, he tried to tell himself, it was only the law of nature that the stronger survive. Without trying to object to whatever Darth Carnifex was attempting to accomplish or questioning it, the Bpfasshi tried to gather more information on what was all this:

"Lord Carnifex." Ansgar's voice came out and one of the Togorians wildly attempted to escape his restraint as he growled at the newly arrived Bpfasshi with absolute malice. The intent to kill had engulfed the beast but slowly, yet successfully that intent was devoured by the feeling of desperation. No. Not the feeling. But the revelation that his life was no longer in his hands. "Have I been called to observe this, my Lord ?"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord casually scratched the underside of his chin as the diminutive creatures finished their separate tasks and began to compile their collected data on a nearby mobile table. Their charts and measurements would give Carnifex, and his team of insidious doctors, the information required to better understand Togorian physiology in the upcoming experiments and trials. Before this moment their only prerogative had been to engineer ways to efficiently exterminate the Togorian infestation, but now that they had sufficiently reached that goal what was to be done to those who had proved resilient enough to survive the systematic purge of their species?

Naturally the Dark Lord had a plan for that as well.

The Togorians had always been a woefully willful species too intertwined with the Mandalorian culture to ever be converted to the Sith cause, and so had been reduced to the status of vermin by both Carnifex and the Sith Lady [member="Darth Hauntruss"]. Their earliest use to the Sith had been as fodder for a malignant Sith experiment orchestrated by himself and Hauntruss, but since then their destiny had been one of annihilation. But as the ages trudged on, Carnifex began to see them in a different light; especially now that their numbers had been reduced so drastically. If they could not be willingly converted to the Sith cause, then they would be unwillingly made to serve.

The doctors had completed their research of the data, and they sent a representative, Dr. Vita Zyn - former Director of Imperial Research during the Old Empire's zenith, to confer their findings with the Dark Lord. Upon her arrival Carnifex turned his gaze towards her, nearly stopping her in her tracks with the intensity of his stare, but she swiftly recovered and approached the Dark Lord.

"Milord."

"Speak, Doctor. Tell me what you have found."

"We've completed our preliminary research on the Togorian physiology and have discovered that the males are best suited for the initial trials. Their larger physique, musculature, and dense bone tissue are the perfect parameters for what you have in mind."

"Very good, Doctor. I want you to select a pair of males for the injection, we'll test their pain thresholds first."

The Doctor bowed respectfully and turned to depart, moving with a little more haste than one normally would when leaving someone else's company. The Dark Lord would have immediately joined her were it not for the timely arrival of his new apprentice, [member="Ansgar"]. He could sense the youth's aversion to what his eyes were witnessing, a natural reaction to something so profoundly wrong by those uninitiated to the intricacies of such dark science. "You have, my apprentice. There is more to the Dark Side of the Force than utilizing your hatred to fuel your attacks or conjure forth elemental destruction upon thine enemies, and I intend to show instruct you in the more arcane aspects of the Force."

 

[inactivechar01]

Ansgar was not sure how to react to what his Master had just said. Was it his disgust of the image before him that brewed the mixed feelings within him ? Was he supposed to overcome this ? He did not know. Nonetheless, learning that the dark side was by far more than what most stereotypes depicted it as was certainly good news that he welcomed gladly. The more there was to it, the higher the chance of bringing this galaxy into order.

And there was no such thing as a price to high to pay.

His eyes fell upon the captured Togorians.

"Even better, my lord, I had been craving to do more than observe." The Bpfasshi somehow forced himself to say that. A flame of dedication to his goal had pushed it out breaking the barriers that his disgust and perception of wrong that held him back. Despite that, Ansgar was still appalled at the sight of the Togorians but the promise of delving further into the dark side of the Force thrilled him.

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[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Atlas Kane]

The young Epicanthix was descending some stairs, down towards the place where he was supposed to be to learn. He could already feel the overwhelming amount of emotions and Dark Side energy emanating from the bottom of the stairs, he was certain that was where he was supposed to go. He wished to learn more of the Dark Arts. It was something the new master of his clan had talked about, something that was very powerful if wielded correctly; And something powerful is what Ahren wished to wield.

He finally reached the last step. A dark figure stood in the room, clad in armour and standing at least a foot taller than the young Panteer. Next to the figure was another person, someone who did not possess the immense presence in the Dark Side that the armoured man did. Ahren assumed it was another one here to learn, something that was confirmed when he was addressed as apprentice. There was a third figure, a female doctor, but she was already on her way out, passing Ahren, nodding without a word and quickly proceeding up the stairs.

Ahren stepped further into the room, now seeing what they were here for, presumably. Multiple Togorians, robbed of their fur and their will, restrained, their lives ready to be used for whatever purpose they were gathered here. The sight didn't horrify or phase the young Panteer any more than the rest of the planet did. It was unsettling, as if malicious tendrils of terror were working their way into one's mind, yet it was not horrifying. It was more like a distant, muted feeling of dread than outright fear that he was feeling, but that was not the only thing; He also felt curiosity. The scientific part of him was curious as to what was going to happen to these creatures.

"Greetings." He said, bowing to the armoured man. "My name is Ahren Panteer; I am here to learn."

After he had finished bowing he returned to staring at the Togorians. His expression was one of apathetic analysis, he was studying the creatures, observing their squirming forms and trying to feel their emotions with the Force, something he had been told to refine, if he wished to become a greater Sith.

[member="Ansgar"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord's gaze lazily swept to fall upon the newcomer, his hellish stare boring into the younger Epicanthix like a pair of coals that burned brightly in his sockets. Yet all he uttered was the single inquiry, "Indeed?" Although it was uncertain as to whom he was directing it towards, but before either youth could ask for clarification the Dark Lord turned away and stalked towards a nearby table with purposeful steps. On it rested several syringes and vials of incandescent liquid that gurgled with swirling colors all vying for dominion behind the smudged glass. He plucked one from the table that had been filled with an oily black tar-like substance, and proceeded to squeeze a dollop out onto his bare hand. At first the ooze began to settle and sludge outward on his palm, but soon enough heat began to emanate out from it as the festering contagion ate away the outer most layer of his skin before fizzling out after a few moments.

"A concoction of my own design." The blackness dissipated rather quickly, leaving behind the worn away flesh of his palm that pulsated before new skin began to materialize to heal the damage. "This substance exists only for a scant few moments when exposed to flesh, but in that time it dissolves and absorbs solid matter like a sponge would soak up water before the molecules that comprise its form break apart. What you witnessed was just the beginning, the true test has yet to come. Watch closely now."

A pair of servants wheeled forth one of the more lanky Togorians, one that lacked the musculature of its comrades and was possibly even sickly. Obviously such a pitiful creature would be useful for the experimentation the Dark Lord ultimately had in mind for these mongrels, and so he would serve in another capacity as a subject for a different kind of testing. As the Togorian was wheeled into place near the center of the chamber, a multi-limbed apparatus descended from a hidden alcove in the ceiling to loom over his ensnared body. The servants hobbled over to the table near Carnifex and began to load up each arm with a syringe filled with the same voracious substance that he had shown to them a couple moments ago. Despite the Togorian's lack of understanding in the Basic tongue that Carnifex and his two proteges spoke, the grim finality of his situation was evident enough.

He thrashed violently was adrenaline pumped through his veins as he heaved against his restraints, but like before his efforts were ultimately futile. The bonds tightened to the point that he was unable to move any of his limbs or even swivel his head, effectively locked into place. The last syringe was loaded up and the apparatus whirred into motion, each appendage seeking a vein closest to the skin all over his body before plunging the needle into the flesh as the plunger was decompressed to expunge the fetid liquid.

The reaction was nearly instantaneous.

The Togorian thrashed even more violently now, and despite the gag bound tightly over his snout his screams were painfully audible. Soon enough the black sludge that had been callously pumped into him began to eat away at his veins, the turgid slime devouring his muscles, bones, and skin as quickly as it was administered to his systems. Eventually his screams would be silenced as the salve ate through his vocal cords, his body sloshing away in withering, silent agony. Soon enough he would be dead, his corpse melted beyond all recognition as what remained slipped through the restraints and collapsed to the floor in a soggy heap, steam rising off of the dissolved flesh.

"Effective, is it not?"

[member="Ansgar"] | [member="Ahren Panteer"]​

 

[inactivechar01]

Ansgar's attention from his master was taken away for just a moment as a new figure emerged from the entrance stating his intention to learn. And to learn they would as the acolyte would soon find out more about the grotesque that Sith Magic was able to paint. Darth Carnifex introduced to both learners a vial containing a liquid that meant only harm to the tortured Togorians. How much more ? The former Galactic Alliance pilot was certainly not one used to witness such 'treatment'. He was barely keeping control as it is.

The fresh acolyte felt sweat break on his brow as the liquid was injected into the one who seemed wildest out of the group of Togorians that had been cursed to survive whatever assault issued by the Dark Lord. The screams that broke out stopped his heart in place and froze him in one place feeling the dread of what the Togorian was experiencing. He felt an urge to flee, to run but his feet were nailed to the ground. Was it his willpower keeping him in place or was it the fear and disgust that shocked him so much he stood immobile like statue. In less than a minute there was no visible trace of what once was a proud and relentless warrior, simply remains that could hardly be recognized as remains of a sentient.

To his Master's rhetoric question, he could not answer.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ahren Panteer"]​