Private Byss Souls for Bargaining.

[Raien Keth]

Byss
Kethenite Ruins
Midnight skies. High Noon.

Byss, there were few darkside nexuses more appealing than Byss. Bathed in a dark green and blue. Few places with more hidden mysteries or experiments best left to the imagination. Whatever claims the alliance held over his domain were just meaningless titles to the long-dead Betrayer. Things were moving and changing on the galactic stage. A new sith orders, the fall of several galactic powers. It was a ripe time for Keth's machinations to take shape once more, from the heart of Jedi space.

What better place to operate from behind their lines, sending plentiful distractions to Tython so they would waste their resources there? Keth barely saw anything but force users, so for him this was Jedi space. There were more tunnels, ruins, experiments, and complexes of his hidden here now than they could hope to find in a thousand lifetimes.

The latest batch of force-using slaves were brought forward before him by the runic guards, imprinted with memories of the struggles throughout the centuries of conflicts. Keth revealed his form, twisted as it was now of spirit, jagged and barely human. The room filled with a level of pressure that wanted to choke the life out of everything living thing here. A test. He was still seeking the perfect apprentice, a lifelong goal that had always frustrated him.

While some of those present choked, spat, and tried to fight for their breath. Four resisted or shouted, one screaming obscenities at his captor. This pleased him, so he intensified his focus and the pressure on the subjects, granting them a great boon with his attention. The level of their pain increased. This tired the dead Sith Lord, he wasn't a living conduit for the force any longer. It did however reveal what he wanted, the weakest broke and started gibbering for release. The other three stood firm, even fighting harder against their imprisonment.

A Promising Beginning to the day. He stepped aside and let his servants continue the tests, there was more important work to do elsewhere.

A new light. Forged and Reborn as progenitors of the long conflict.​

 

[Serpentis]

Tag: Rayden Helonus

An overtly beautified, golden runic craft descended near the ruins, almost shaped after an ancient golden sith meditation sphere. A small gathering of servants and attendants walked beside, locating the hidden entrance underneath a fallen pillar, either meeting or escorting their guest(s). To gain entry it required two Valarith coins, made from a previous ancient meditation sphere's metal, and often used to seed currency or faith on pre-industrial worlds. Subtly shaping societies, and language along the lines the kethenites wished.

The entrance was revealed, and soon they were in an elevator slowly descending.

In a Thyrsian host body. Serpentis was dressed in shining gold armor, etched with beautifully extravagant designs, something her servants had meticulously carved. Bringing Rayden Helonus to her brother, supposedly about training his acolytes. She had discussed Rayden's wish to bind her brother. To bring the One Sith further into the Sith Order's fold, or at least under his own thumb. The Knight would strike with Rayden when the time was right, either today or later, but it must be well-timed.

"My price for helping is a meager rebirth to my rightful mortal form, or a third of his assets. Surely that is a small price for the great boon that you will gain." Her voice almost rolled off the tongue, glistening like her vanity. Honeyed words that had wrapped their way around lesser mortals' minds, a subtle creeping mind trick attempted. She would give anything to be born again in a perfected body, and all her efforts were looking for the right ritual to facilitate that. This much could be easy to sense in the force, the leverage Rayden already had over her.

A single golden coin was offered to Rayden if he accepted, the significance of that anchor to become shown later.

Their elevator doors opened, leading to a decorated stone hall. On either side were lesser fallen acolytes bound to the entrance hall. Statues of their form, with a picture of their death to remind them of their failure. An eternal torment of dead apprentices to create stronger force ghosts when they were needed. The dead were never really released here, and ghosts abounded in this place.

Finally at the end was a spotless, large dark stone room, with a ring of apprentices. Keth's ghostly form at the far end lingered, twisted and barely human. Behind him the watchful eye of a dead sith meditation sphere, the ship itself in ethereal form, and one of its coins potentially in Rayden's hand.

No word of a welcome was given, the eyes of the Keth ghost exerting a certain pressure. Looking at the stranger to see if he was worthy of taking on what was asked. If he flinched, he might not make it out of here alive.