Private Deathshroud

[Darth Imperius]

Darth Callidus

He sheathed the blade as she finished the beast, it sliding back onto his back with no particular effort and suddenly far more silently than when it was drawn. There was no need to keep it in his hand, the threat gone as he had expected. She was an efficient combatant and despite his lack of appreciation for the saberstaff, she wielded it extraordinarily well. A feat usually achieved by the contemporary assassins, even though it was as limited to that as the term Sith was these days.

The calm steps of the armored figure towards the corpse echoed with clanking noise through the now silent hall again. The helmet's gaze, not much unlike a targeting laser, moved from her compliment to the beast. She had seen a demonstration of his physical skill, his technique and a glimpse of his control over the Dark side, but not much more. Darth Imperius therefore took the compliment with a silent and slight nod.

"Its ability to survive without nutrition is impressive, so is the design of its carapace. I have read the reports of the war Terminus fought against a swarm of these, but their actual being surpasses my expectations." While speaking, the rest of the tabard started to fall from his shoulders after the beast had ripped it. With a smooth gesture, he discarded it and also raised his view up to the end of the hall.

The Dark Lord stepped across the corpse and headed there. "Your control under pressure is formidable." The voice seemed ill-used to handing out compliments, Imperius was not very fond of the concept of positive feedback, but he saw skill and it was a fact to him, not a bootlicking attempt to endear her to him.

At the end of the hall were steps leading up to a large portal, a stone gate which had rich engravings. Sith soldiers of old, Warriors of the Sith fought more of what the duo just had killed, many more. It was a serious battle depicting a war of savage nature, maybe even of survival. In the middle of it was a figure, tall and shrouded, a scythe in one hand and a goblet in the other and around him was death, the dying of friend and foe alike.

 

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: Darth Imperius

Darth Callidus followed Imperius's steps toward the corpse with a measured pace, her amber eyes sweeping over the now-lifeless beast. Its void-like presence was gone, leaving only the faint echoes of its strange existence in the Force—or rather, in its absence. She listened as Imperius spoke, noting his analysis of the creature and his subdued nod of acknowledgment to her earlier words.

When he offered his own compliment, however curt and factual, her lips curved into a subtle smirk. The praise, while sparse, carried a weight that suggested authenticity rather than empty flattery. She allowed a moment to pass before replying, her tone equally measured, though layered with subtle undertones.

"Your precision is... striking," she said, her voice cool, yet carrying an air of contemplation. "It speaks not only to your martial discipline but to a mind capable of wielding power with purpose. Rare, even among our ranks."

Her gaze lingered on the discarded tabard as she spoke, her smirk deepening ever so slightly. "Perhaps rarer still is the restraint to let others shine when the moment demands it. A skill of its own."

She turned her attention to the gate ahead, the engravings drawing her focus. The scene carved into the stone was brutal, yet vivid—a tapestry of carnage and chaos that hinted at a story of desperate survival. Her eyes rested on the central figure, the shrouded entity wielding a scythe and goblet. Death incarnate, bringing ruin indiscriminately.

"A tale carved in stone," she murmured, stepping closer to the gate. Her fingertips traced one of the engravings lightly, the cold surface grounding her thoughts. "A war fought not for glory but for existence. The figure in the center... it embodies inevitability, does it not? Death, harvesting all without preference or prejudice. An apt guardian for what lies beyond, if the pattern holds."

She glanced at Imperius, her expression calm but inquisitive. "The architect of this place wanted us to see this, to understand the stakes before we proceed. A message, perhaps. Or a warning."

Her fingers fell away from the engraving as she stepped back, her posture straight and her expression composed. "What do you make of it? A gauntlet to test our mettle, or an invitation to face the same fate carved upon this gate?"

The question hung in the air, not as a challenge, but as an acknowledgment of his insight—a subtle echo of her earlier compliment, veiled as ever.

 

[Darth Imperius]

Darth Callidus

Restraint. It was a word he was neither used to nor agreeing with. It was a false humility or a pretentious weakness that hid behind its letters, behind its usage. Imperius had a strong dislike for both, a simple but unshakeable disrespect for someone who was not capable to showing their powers and their control over them. But this was not what made him cease his own offensive and led her take the kill.

"Calculation. I knew that your skill was sufficient to bring it down and required no more of my input."

At the stone portal, he did not respond to her initially with words, but from his belt he clipped a small, round holo-display. A tap awakened the image that was last opened and the figure from the center appeared, less stylised and more detailed, apparently an image taken from an actual holo-transmission, even though it had lost some of its sharpness. It was a Sith in heavy armor, standing with a scythe in one hand and his T-visored helmet in the other.

"It is Terminus. He was Mirtis Serjek. Death Guard."

His eyes wandered across the portal and its sides, looking to find what would open them. His HUD showed scans and sensor readings from his armor, analysing what was ahead of them and blocked the path into the tomb. It did not find any mechanisms or keyholes, locks or similar engineering solutions. With that his attention returned to what the gate showed, the depictions of war and death, of Terminus as a grim reaper.

History taught that he was a master of poison, that he worshipped death and fought for the good of the Empire until he turned mad. His apprentices had to taste from his strongest toxins to be accepted before he would teach them and obviously only if they survived, they were deemed worthy.

"Do you still consider to following his intended instructions is bending them to our will or do you prefer we reshape this place in our image of power?"

Riddles in the dark or domination through unrelenting force. What would it be?

 

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: Darth Imperius

Darth Callidus observed the holo-image with an arched brow, her gaze shifting from the flickering projection of Mirtis Serjek to the grim carvings on the gate. The echoes of his legend were palpable here, in the malevolent air that clung to the tomb and the brutal artistry of the portal. The depiction of war, of suffering, of death wielded as both weapon and philosophy—it all aligned with the history she knew of the Death Guard.

She clasped her hands behind her back, her posture rigid but composed, and her voice cut through the heavy silence with measured deliberation. "Terminus was a master of death, both in its creation and in its orchestration. If this place was crafted in his image, then it is not merely a test of strength, but one of understanding. Power alone may open this door, but understanding its intent will ensure we walk through it as masters, not as victims."

Her gaze fell on the towering depiction of Terminus at the portal's center, the scythe and goblet drawing her focus. She stepped closer, her amber eyes gleaming as she traced the contours of the engraving with her gaze. "A scythe to reap. A goblet to imbibe. His apprentices were forced to drink his poisons to prove their worth. Perhaps this is no different—a reflection of his trials, demanding we partake to be deemed worthy."

She turned to Imperius, her expression thoughtful but unwavering. "I still hold that to work within his intended framework is not submission, but strategy. The test, as he designed it, is a tool. If we dismantle it now, we risk losing the insights it may offer—and I suspect Terminus valued such insight highly. He was not a brute, but an architect of fear and control."

Callidus gestured toward the portal with one hand, her tone cool but edged with authority. "We proceed as he intended, for now. This place has purpose, and unraveling it may serve us more than brute force ever could. If the path proves false, then we will reshape it—utterly. But only when the gain outweighs the cost."

Her smirk returned, faint and calculating. "And who better to bend this test to our will than the two of us? Power and calculation, aligned as they should be. Let us see what game the Death Guard has left for us to play."

With that, she stepped closer to the portal, her gaze unwavering, ready to engage with whatever form of trial Terminus had prepared. For Callidus, restraint was not weakness—it was the sharpening of a blade, to be unleashed at the precise moment for maximum effect.

 

[Darth Imperius]

Darth Callidus

He listened to her thoughts with curious patience. Her intelligence was undeniable and her idea of subterfuge was quite telling, she could be an asset far beyond that of a tomb raider, their skills and temperaments complementing each other it seemed. Where he was displaying cold patience, she seized initiative, where she offered a twisted path to domination, he would see the straight way towards it. If aligned, it could harbor great powers.

His gaze wandered back to the relief on the portal and the history of Terminus. They had to be worthy and with that he went moving away from the gate and back to the corpse they had just made.

"In his eyes to enter, we must prove worthy as you said. Unless my eyes deceive me, there are not many options of how to suit his personal ritual."

He knelt down and ripped out a limb, a satisfying crack and tearing flesh sound, dark blood oozing and dripping from it, heavy and thick as he then carried it towards the entrance and stopped in front of her. It was smelling quite bad, otherwordly, unnatural, the taint of twisted, ancient Alchemy that ran through its very existence.

With a single hand, he released a lock and a slight and brief sound of decompression could be heard before he lifted up his helmet and clipped it to his belt. The face revealed was almost grey, pale and wrinkled it was utterly devasted by the Dark side. Cracks running from his eyes, skin flaking and veins of blue and purple covering his entire scalp and face. The eyes were almost entirely black with red rims showing the irises. Ancient scars were visible that further distorted his features and had healed long ago, were even surgically removed.

He raised the limb above his face and squeezed, the dark blood dripping down on his face and finding his mouth before he handed it to her to follow his example.

Just to awaken him in a world of agony and death . . . .

 

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: Darth Imperius

Darth Callidus regarded Imperius's actions with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, her amber eyes following the grotesque display with unwavering focus. As he revealed his face, the ravages of the Dark Side etched into every line and scar, she did not flinch nor react with disdain. Instead, she inclined her head slightly, a faint gesture of acknowledgment toward the lengths he was willing to go to fulfill the ritual.

When he handed her the blood-soaked limb, the heavy, unnatural stench of the alchemically tainted flesh filled the air. Callidus accepted it with a deliberate slowness, her movements measured and almost ceremonious, as if even in this vile act, she would assert her control over the situation.

"Proof of worth through submission to his ritual," she murmured, her voice low, contemplative. "Terminus demands we embrace the death he wields—not merely as an inevitability, but as a tool, a means to his ends. Very well."

She raised the limb with a steady hand, tilting her head back as the blood began to drip onto her face. The viscous, unnatural liquid was cold, its texture heavier than ordinary blood, and it burned faintly as it touched her skin. Her lips parted, allowing it to flow into her mouth, and she swallowed without hesitation. The taste was vile—bitter and acrid, carrying with it the echoes of the beast's alchemical nature—but she betrayed no reaction, her composure unbroken.

As the blood's influence began to course through her, she lowered the limb and cast it aside, her amber eyes gleaming brighter for a brief moment. The taint was palpable, a roiling presence in her veins, but she mastered it, suppressing its effects through sheer will.

Callidus turned her gaze to Imperius, a faint smirk playing on her lips despite the grotesque ritual. "You take the lead well," she said, her tone carrying the barest edge of a veiled compliment. "A direct path, unclouded by hesitation. Rare, and—on this occasion—effective."

She gestured toward the portal, her voice returning to its calm, commanding cadence. "Let us see if the old master deems us worthy of his legacy. If not, he will learn that the tools of death are just that—tools. And we are their masters, not their victims."

She stepped aside, motioning for Imperius to proceed toward the gate. While she ceded the lead for now, her watchful eyes and poised stance made it clear—Callidus was no passive observer. Whatever awaited beyond the portal would find them both prepared.

 

[Darth Imperius]

Darth Callidus

It was repulsive. The taste aside, which was outright disgusting but expected due to its unnatural origins and would not kill anyone except for ladies in ivory towers, but the reaction it caused was terrifyingly potent. It was a testament to the craft the old bastard of a dead Sith had mastered and it was only down to Imperius vastly superior physiology and outright willpower that it did not knock him out cold.

The thick liquid did not burn or cause simple pain, it was an alchemically amplified neurotoxin that went into every millimeter of his body and tried to seize control of it. It tried to subdue the conscious brain commands of the host and more one resisted, it caused exponential increase in pain. You were pitched against yourself to give in or suffer through enormous pain from muscle spasm and burning nerve endings.

Darth Imperius stood still. His face was motionless as he fought pain through the domination of his mind, it was a good time to embrace the technique of Detoxify Poison, but it was barely sufficient. His mind went through every particle of the poison and eliminated it inside his body, while feeling like hours, it took him about three seconds of real space time to do so. Not because it was an easy task, but because he had honed his body and knew every bit of it.

"What good is a Dark Lord if he cannot do it himself. Delegation is for those who warm the seats of power I will take from them."

His voice was more silent but still solemn and strong, his mind was recovering from the ordeal of purifying his body.

The Zakuulan moved towards the gate, in the process removing a gauntlet that revealed an equally pale and corrupted skin. He laid it on the portal and stared at it. The assault on his body left him slightly on edge, his wrath's containment barely holding and as he was shortly before tearing down the gate, it started to open for them.

The path to the tomb was open.

 

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: Darth Imperius

Darth Callidus observed Imperius with keen interest, her amber eyes narrowing as she studied the sheer force of will required to overcome the vile effects of Terminus's alchemical toxin. She sensed the pain coursing through him, the effort it took to wrest control from the insidious neurotoxin and to maintain composure. It was an impressive display of mastery over mind and body, and she did not shy away from acknowledging it.

As the gate began to creak open under Imperius's touch, she stepped forward, the faintest of smirks curling her lips. Her voice was calm, laced with a sharp edge of respect. "Few could endure what you just did, let alone stand unmoved in the face of it. It speaks volumes of your mastery, Imperius—not only over the body but over the mind."

She inclined her head slightly, a gesture that was far from submissive but carried an air of sincerity. "Your resolve is an asset I rarely encounter among our kind. Many would falter or look for others to bear the burden. You, however, remind me why the strongest rise to lead. It is not merely power that sets us apart, but the ability to wield it without compromise."

Her gaze shifted to the now-opening portal, the dark recesses of the tomb beyond beckoning them forward. "A worthy test, it seems, to prove a worthy candidate. Terminus would have approved of such resilience. But we are far from finished, I suspect."

She gestured toward the revealed path, her tone turning cool once more, though the faint compliment lingered beneath. "Lead on, then. If this was but the first step, I look forward to seeing how the Death Guard measures our worth further. And rest assured, they will find us more than capable."

Callidus fell into step beside Imperius, her expression composed, but her thoughts churned with careful calculation. While she allowed him to take the lead, she made it clear in her presence and words—she would not be overshadowed. Together, they would carve their way through this tomb, but the lessons and victories would be shared. And in the end, she intended to emerge with her own ambitions sharpened by the trials.

 

[Darth Imperius]

Darth Callidus

His mind returned to a state of normality, even if it has lost some of its energy, his eyes focused on what was ahead. The helmet seemed like a relief to be put back on, shielding him from the outside and from views, but he considered it a sign of weakness. There was nothing he despised more and succumbing to it would never be an option. Given, he thought himself nearly completely without false pride, knowing rather than claiming, but it was an unstable co-existence with his disdain for mediocrity and timidity.

"Too many are hiding behind titles, past deeds, cults, veils of shadows, too much petty infighting and too little cohesion. The Sith are not strongest when they hide in the shadows and plot for ages, Sidious fell. The Dark side does not look kindly on permitting weakness to exist, Bane proved it. An absent and passive ruler invites infighting and disunity, as Vitiate did."

"If the strongest are to rule, the strongest has to lead. An empty throne, a hollow title and a concealed blade are worth nothing without someone wielding them with purpose."

His steps forward had lost nothing of their determination and strength. It highlighted that in his words, he saw himself. But through his statements, he also approved of her observation, not as a compliment to him, but as an ideological ideal. She saw through the nonsense that plagued the current Sith Order, the factions, the lack of direction, the abundance of titles, instances and bureaucracy.

"He is dead and whether he approves or not, we will take what is ours. It is not our worth that requires further determination, but of what lies ahead - if it is merely an inconvenience or a challenge."

 

[Darth Callidus]

Tags: Darth Imperius

Darth Callidus walked beside Imperius, her stride steady and deliberate, her amber eyes gleaming as she listened to his words. She made no effort to interrupt, her silence deliberate, letting his convictions fill the space between them. His disdain for the fractured state of the Sith, for the empty gestures and hollow power plays, resonated with her own views, though she noted the sharp edges of personal ambition woven into his ideology.

When he finished, she turned her head slightly, her gaze meeting the unyielding facade of his helmet. Her tone, when she spoke, carried the weight of agreement tempered by her characteristic edge. "You are not wrong, Imperius. The Sith have become a fractured reflection of their potential, a shadow of what they could be. Too many cling to titles as shields, as though the Dark Side grants favor to those who hide behind the symbols of power rather than wield its essence."

Her voice grew sharper, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "You speak of leading with purpose, and I see that in you. Determination, unshaken by the distractions of lesser minds. It is rare, even among us. Too often, the Sith mistake cunning for purpose, treachery for strength. But the blade that cuts without reason is no ruler—it is a tool, discarded when its edge dulls."

She paused, her gaze shifting forward toward the opened path, the darkness ahead still holding its secrets. "If Terminus were alive, I doubt he would approve of us—because approval would imply recognition of equals. And the old ones never see us as such. They cling to their designs, their legacies, and expect us to bow before their vision of power."

Her smirk faded, her expression sharpening into something colder, more calculating. "But we do not bow. Not to the dead, and not to each other. We walk this path not to prove worth to Terminus or his creations, but to take what is ours by right and by might. That is the truth of the Sith—power defines the worthy, and purpose shapes the powerful."

Callidus slowed her pace slightly, her amber gaze flicking back to Imperius as she continued. "You, Imperius, seem to understand this. It is... refreshing. And rare. A leader who not only speaks of purpose but embodies it. Perhaps there is hope for the Sith yet."

The compliment was subtle, veiled in her critique of the broader Order, but it carried weight. She inclined her head slightly, the gesture deliberate but restrained, as though to acknowledge his vision while asserting her own independence.

Her eyes fixed on the darkness ahead, and she gestured forward with a flick of her hand. "Lead on, then. Let us see if what lies ahead is merely an inconvenience—or a challenge worthy of our time. Either way, we will carve our will into this place and leave it as a testament to our purpose."