King of Korriban
<< In the final moments of our existence, as the Sith's Omen bears down upon us and darkens our skies, I stand as the last of my kind, a solitary flame flickering against the ice of a great, encroaching darkness. With each dying breath, I carry the weight of an entire people, our Songs of Life destroyed and lifted by smoke and fire, burnt with the singers instead into wailing lamentations of eternal loss. Our legacy, a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of existence, the huntress that is nature, now echoes in the hollow chambers of our collapsed temples. Weep not for me, but mourn this scar in the Force, for I bear witness to not only the end of the Ashlan people, but to their rebirth into something new— the undead servants of the Sith and of the dark side. >>
— Ashlan Jedi Master Siizo Raak, moments before the end, the undead are coming... the undead are coming...
- Korriban
- City of Ravos Varos
- Tower Darkspire
- Tags —
Elmindra Xitaar
|
Kyraj
|
Zal Aditi
Darth Caedes stood tall beneath the chilly gaze of Korriban's setting sun, the planet's clouds aflame and bleeding crimson. The overreaching stone balcony of Tower Darkspire spread out before him, overlooking the Ashlan city of Ravos Varos, pocked and smoldering as it was from warfare, from the Sith's reclamation. Below them, even now, Darth Caedes' risen hordes hunted and killed groups of fleeing citizens, chasing them through the streets screaming. Columns of smoke rose high into the air from that war-torn surface, turning orange and red with the touch of Horuset's low glow, burning with the scent of flesh and forgotten names.
Before him, arrayed like an opened fan, three Sith knelt upon the cold stone floors of Darkspire, their heads bowed low in genuflection. Each of them brimmed with power in the Force, the bloody work of Korriban's reclamation having given them focus in their mutual pursuits of strength.
Elmindra Xitaar III, Marquess of Falleen Throne, Sith Knight and Senior Captain of the Omen, crackled with the egoic satisfaction of victory— and as well she should. It poured from her like pheromones, drenching Caedes in a grim and intoxicating confidence. He reveled alongside her, pushing her pride higher, elevating her ambitions. She had been the one to discover him, lost and alone, wandering the abandoned crypt hallways of Sith temples in the Outer Rim worlds. She had been the one to pry him from that madness and return him to the fold, to the embrace of the Sith Order. Looking down at her now, the rough texture of her green neck exposed at the nape, a long unfamiliar feeling blossomed in his chest; one he had nearly forgotten. Gratitude. Unbidden and uncomfortable, though not entirely unwelcome, he allowed himself to be thankful for what loyalty he had found. After all, Korriban's future would be built on the cunning and charisma of this woman, as much as his sheer power and connection to the Force.
At the Captain's right-hand knelt her Apprentice, Kyraj, and at her left, his own, Zal Aditi. Almost, the two were like mirrored opposites of one another, one a great strength, the other as precise as a needle. Each of them swelled within the Force now, made greater for their trials here on Korriban.
Already, the Apprentice understood killing; better than most, perhaps better even than Zal. Against his blade, not even the vaunted Ashlan Jedi were safe. How would he deal with leadership?
Darth Caedes shifted his weight and turned to face Zal, features becoming steel, his lips drawing tight. Slowly, carefully, he approached and reached down to grip her by the chin, pulling her face upward and exposing the wound across her cheek.
Darth Caedes met her gaze, then stepped past her, striding to the balcony's edge. Wind kicked at the silk of his black and gold-trim robes. Thirty stories below him, at ground level, the warring bodies of ghoulish dead and Ashlan militia looked like tiny insects swarming the streets. Buildings the size of snap-block pieces collapsed and exploded— and where there was death there was also rebirth. Corpses raised and skulked into shadows, crawling beneath buildings and into dark rooms. Beyond the city limits, like a churning ocean of thousands upon thousands, his growing army of the dead writhed and gathered in shifting packs and hordes, chaotic murmurations echoing through their numbers, entire groups holding one another and shrieking as if in pain.
Before him, arrayed like an opened fan, three Sith knelt upon the cold stone floors of Darkspire, their heads bowed low in genuflection. Each of them brimmed with power in the Force, the bloody work of Korriban's reclamation having given them focus in their mutual pursuits of strength.
Elmindra Xitaar III, Marquess of Falleen Throne, Sith Knight and Senior Captain of the Omen, crackled with the egoic satisfaction of victory— and as well she should. It poured from her like pheromones, drenching Caedes in a grim and intoxicating confidence. He reveled alongside her, pushing her pride higher, elevating her ambitions. She had been the one to discover him, lost and alone, wandering the abandoned crypt hallways of Sith temples in the Outer Rim worlds. She had been the one to pry him from that madness and return him to the fold, to the embrace of the Sith Order. Looking down at her now, the rough texture of her green neck exposed at the nape, a long unfamiliar feeling blossomed in his chest; one he had nearly forgotten. Gratitude. Unbidden and uncomfortable, though not entirely unwelcome, he allowed himself to be thankful for what loyalty he had found. After all, Korriban's future would be built on the cunning and charisma of this woman, as much as his sheer power and connection to the Force.
At the Captain's right-hand knelt her Apprentice, Kyraj, and at her left, his own, Zal Aditi. Almost, the two were like mirrored opposites of one another, one a great strength, the other as precise as a needle. Each of them swelled within the Force now, made greater for their trials here on Korriban.
"Rise, Kyraj, Apprentice of Elmindra, Voice of Wrath," Darth Caedes intoned.
"Rise and revel in your victory here. Your Master has done well to bestow such powers of destruction onto you. Korriban has further use for those powers, now. Take what you need, spare no expense, scour the global surface for pockets of Ashlan life. With the sudden appearance of our Kainite blockade, many Jedi were made to go back to ground rather than flee successfully, taking their flocks of indoctrinated fools and warriors along with them into the cracks and crevices to bury their heads. Those who could not escape are trapped here still, hiding wherever they can, with the inclusion of several Jedi Masters who no doubt cradle false hopes and aspirations of toppling the Sith's return. Hunt them down, flush them out, search every city and every temple, blot out their light until there isn't any left, destroy or sequester their artifacts, do not rest until reports of these Jedi fugitives go silent once and for all."
Already, the Apprentice understood killing; better than most, perhaps better even than Zal. Against his blade, not even the vaunted Ashlan Jedi were safe. How would he deal with leadership?
"Rise, Elmindra, companion, Knight, for this is as much your celebration and triumph as it is mine. Ravos Varos falls at our feet and Darkspire is inhabited once again by the Sith. All moves in accordance with our vision. Now, yours is the only mind I trust to be capable of handling what is to come. From here, we build. Follow in the wake of Kyraj's destruction, repopulate and revitalize this world. Establish new leadership, take and bestow what titles you will. Call on the rich and ambitious from Falleen, from loyal Sith families, from every walk of life. Bring to us industry and artistry, new visionaries and inspired minds. Seize the planet's resources and harvest them, build a criminal underbelly which suits us. Together we will create a metropolis in the dark side, poised to strike at the flank of the Core Worlds."
Darth Caedes shifted his weight and turned to face Zal, features becoming steel, his lips drawing tight. Slowly, carefully, he approached and reached down to grip her by the chin, pulling her face upward and exposing the wound across her cheek.
"Unfocused," he whispered, his breath hot like cinders. Then, he relented and released her, stepping back and straightening once more.
"Rise, Zal Aditi."
Darth Caedes met her gaze, then stepped past her, striding to the balcony's edge. Wind kicked at the silk of his black and gold-trim robes. Thirty stories below him, at ground level, the warring bodies of ghoulish dead and Ashlan militia looked like tiny insects swarming the streets. Buildings the size of snap-block pieces collapsed and exploded— and where there was death there was also rebirth. Corpses raised and skulked into shadows, crawling beneath buildings and into dark rooms. Beyond the city limits, like a churning ocean of thousands upon thousands, his growing army of the dead writhed and gathered in shifting packs and hordes, chaotic murmurations echoing through their numbers, entire groups holding one another and shrieking as if in pain.
"I can feel them down there. All of them, distinct and the same, their minds, their hunger, their wit, their raw aggression and morbid curiosity. I imagine you're well acquainted with the sensation. Alas, they cannot go where the Ashlan's have shed their purifying light. Even as their civilizations fall, the Jedi's stain in the Force weakens my sorcery and plagues your beast kin. Your task will be much as my own at the nexus. Korriban is home to many vergences and ancient powers which have yet to be set free to the dark side. Miles of star iron veins stretch out beneath us, resonating with the Jedi's pallid light, sickening Korriban. Sprawling crystalline chambers sing the lies of the Ashlan's peace, shrines and temples housing old engines of darkness, long buried and unused, waiting to serve and shape once more. Return this world to darkness from its core, from within the Force. Only then will the dead rise to enact my will across the entirety of Korriban. Only then can we truly call this planet ours again."
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