Populate F E A R | BotM Populate of Cathay

[Darth Solipsis]

The Second Great Hyperspace War
Brotherhood of the Maw
Cathay

​

//Links:

• Crisis on Cato Neimoidia
• Retribution
• The Eleventh Hour

World after world fall like dominoes, trillions displaced, enslaved, or downright slaughtered in indiscriminate galactic genocide. The Brotherhood of the Maw push beyond the drawn lines set by the combatants of the Second Great Hyperspace War, their conquests fueled by the dark faith of their masses. No more will they raid, sack, or burn beyond their reach.

No.

The horde move to gobble up what lay before them, striking the New Imperials at Noris and the Galactic Alliance at Selvaris. The Jedi and the New Sith battle relentlessly throughout the galaxy, each trying to outdo the other in the battle between Light and Dark as the MAW attempt to wipe out all trace of the Jedi and their legacy.

Their crusade pushes forward, but not without cost.

Noris had seen many casualties and the loss of the Final Dawn’s prize flagship, the Super Star Destroyer FDS Immortal. Selvaris’s siege left the MAW open for the conquest of Copero and the retrieval of the former CEDF shipyards. The Dark Voice has decreed that such costs were not without merit and by the end of the crusade it will not matter as the brothers and sisters of the Hidden Maw will enter the Galaxy to Come at his side. They are the heralds of the Avatars, nothing will stop their total victory.

Yet.. not all misdeeds go unpunished. Noris while a victory was also a blundering mistake, the MOAB was allowed to fall into Imperial hands and take away the behemoth FDS Immortal. A technological terror which had been equipped to lead alongside the Fatalis to bring forth the Galaxy to Come. Now it was lost…

The Dark Voice demands payment in kind, the commander in charge of the bomb and it’s delivery must be brought forth to be made example of. The Heathen Priest Æthelrath the Vengeful, Vicar to the mighty Avatar of War, must pay with blood. As the MAW ravage what’s left of the planet Cathay, the leaders of the rebellious locale are brought forward alongside this failed war priest for summary execution. The blade of the MAW’s Wrath, Kyrel Ren , thirsts to deliver the message to all who would look upon such justice.

There will be no Rebirth for the unworthy.

​

The remnants of the Hegemony have fallen.

The execution of the rebellious leaders of Cathay and the esteemed Vicar of War of the Mawite ranks whom failed to save the ‘Immortal’ will proceed at the hand of the Wrath of the Maw: Kyrel Ren .

Many of the Dark Voice’s personal retinue are attending the ceremony, conjurers and soothsayers of the Church of the Dark Side. Their number have come to ensure those who fall will have no place in the Galaxy to Come. Their souls forfeit, robbed to feed the hungering Wrath as he lords over the masses with his Crimson Hands and Warriors of Ren as wardens over the surviving populace cruelly enslaved.

Witness the fate of traitors and weaklings, and feel the sting of fear. Woe to those whom would delay the MAW’s holy mission. The galaxy must die, and those who aren’t strong enough to rise must fall even among the Heathen Priests.

Cathay has fallen. The Brotherhood have come and laid claim to the planet, plunder the surface of Cathay or search for the fabled ‘Dragons of Cathay’. Or spread the Gospel of the Hidden Maw, free slaves under the cruel lash of the Brotherhood, even plot to dispose of a rival. Whatever story carries you here:

 

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
The Crater : Approaching the Dark Monastery
Cathay

​

The Catharian Dark Templars rushed down the stone stairs at the ready, their weapons brandished, their arms loose and limber. Nothing could prepare them for what was coming, or better yet.. who.

The Dark Voice marched through the pulverized earth, the flats that sunk into the crater’s depths, he came for the temple the source of the Dark Side’s focal point on the planet. His robes flowed in the wind, beating against the air wickedly as his eyes glared out like twin orbs of sulfuric hate. The Sith’ari came like the reaper, his stride unopposed, his gaze unmet by the fearful Darksiders who stood against him. An oubliette of fear gripped the area in the unflinching hold of the Dark Side, the Dark Lord of the Sith radiating terror beyond what words could describe.

Twin warriors rushed out to meet this foe, flinching only momentarily before letting their anger spirit them into the fray. They did their best to try and wash out the doubt, the fear. Their legs carried them into a brutal charge, lips parting to release out a blood curling roar. Within seconds they were mere feet from him, mere moments from the kill before an uprooting force lifted them from their feet. Effortlessly the Dark Lord gestured to the heavens with his right hand, pulling the duo like marionette strings. He squeezed his hand together into a tight fist and all resistance was gone, lost.

Like aluminum cans their bodies crushed under the weight and fell limp before the Voice discarded them like trash with but the wave of his hand. The remaining defenders around the entrance fled for the safety within, leaving the exterior to the Dark Voice and any followers in his wake.

The Dark Lord hissed and continued his approach. All too easy.

 

[The Messenger]

Æthelrath the Vengeful
Vicar to the Avatar of War
Heathen Priest
Xzeenia, Cathay​

C U L T​

Chained, beaten, stripped of status. The Avatars had abandoned him. Paraded within the capital city of Cathay, Xzeenia.

The roar of the masses, the plundering Mawite hordes was uneasy. Lined up alongside the leaders of what remained of the Catharian Hegemony, the Vicar of War appeared no better than a frail spoil of war, no better than the Cathar at his side. For the first time in ages he felt fear, for the first time since his baptism in darkness he knew doubt.

The Church of the Dark Side’s Sith Cultists and the Heathen Priests co-mingled at the edge of the platform stage eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Wrath of the Maw.
For Kyrel Ren there was no sun worse than weakness, than betraying the gifts of the Shadow. There was no pleading with such an animal, his fate was assured unless he could make purchase with some other commander, some other warlord of rank worth reaching the Voice’s ear. He hoped he could change the tide, change his fate.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

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F E A R
Populate of Cathay : Summary Execution

FINAL DAWN
CATHAY , UNKNOWN REGIONS

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First the loss of the FDS Immortal over Noris, then the Loss of the Copero Shipyards at the hands of the Galactic Alliance. What was expected to be swift strikes against the New Imperial Order and the Galactic Alliance turned into disaster as despite achieving victories against their foes, the miscalculations of the Maw still resulted in heavy losses and the Final Dawn as usual was the one to suffer the brunt of the damage. Their prized Flagship was gone along with one of their most vital Planets and Facilities in the form of Copero and it's Shipyards, another addition to the long list of heavy losses the Final Dawn has suffered as of late in addition to Jedha, Adrathrope and Epoch. However, Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen always had a backup plan and had quickly moved forth to correct these mistakes and make up for the losses the Maw have caused for the Final Dawn starting with Cathay.

Once the home of the once-powerful Catharian Hegemony, Cathay was a shadow of it's former self having failed to conquer Chiss Space in the wake of CEDF Counterattacks which broke their mighty Empire. Despite their subsequent isolation and decline, they soon found themselves as the next target of the Brotherhood of the Maw's long string of Conquests in the Unknown Regions as their Fleets and Armies descended on Cathay, annihilating everything and anyone that stood in their path. In the aftermath of the bloody conquest the Catharian Hegemony was no more with their Armies shattered and their Fleets reduced to floating debris in orbit with the Final Dawn laying claim to the World in order to gain possession of the Planet's Mighty Industry and Shipyards that once fueled the Catharian Hegemony's Warmachine which alone was deemed as sufficient in replacing the lost Copero Shipyards by Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen.

Once the Planet was conquered, Thousands of Final Dawn Sith Troopers and Neo-Imperial Brutetroopers along with the 439th Legion itself began to descend en masse to begin the Final Dawn's Occupation of the world as they began the process of rounding up prisoners to utilize them as slave labour for the process of rebuilding infrastructure and bringing back the Planet's Industry back online as soon as possible. Once all of that was done, Cathay would begin churning out new Warships and Military Equipment for the Final Dawn at a faster rate then Copero ever did ensuring that the Final Dawn's War Machine continued to flow smoothly in the wake of the losses at Copero. Being located far in the depths of the Unknown Regions, Cathay would be safe from any Hostile incursion from the Galactic Alliance, New Imperials or Eternal Empire ensuring that the Final Dawn's future Operations would remain uninterrupted for as long as necessary.

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In the City Square of Xzeenia, Grand Overseer Sularen stood within a massive platform, flanked by Admiral Kaine Hamilton and Colonel Rackham, two of his most trusted Subordinates who had served him greatly on the battlefield. They along with the other Sith Cultists and Heathen Priests, the Grand Overseer sought to personally attend the execution of the individual whose failure was responsible for nearly killing him on Noris. The Destruction of the FDS Immortal almost claimed his life, something the Grand Overseer did not appreciate considering he had yet to put his plans in the Core Worlds in motion. If it weren't for Kyrel Ren , he would have had Æthelrath the Vengeful executed himself for his failure. Although even that would be a mercy compared to the fate he was about to meet at the hands of the Wrath of the Maw.

Thus Sularen waited patiently for the Wrath of the Maw to arrive in order to carry out the execution. Sularen was known to tolerate failure as shown with how he kept Director-Admiral Rackham and Admiral Hamilton around considering the many times they failed him, but even he had his limits.Hopefully he could be granted the privilege of bringing back Æthelrath's Head back to his Office, a reminder to those who would step into his office of the price of ultimate failure, not those tiny mistakes that could be corrected, but the ones that would cost the Final Dawn and by extension the Brotherhood of the Maw dearly, a reminder of what could potentially happen to Sularen himself if his planned Operation Frozen Hand failed.

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Tag | The Messenger | Kyrel Ren ​

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[The Mongrel]

Location: Cathay, City of Xzeenia
Tags: Kyrel Ren | Marlon Sularen | The Messenger

Spoiler: TL;DR

• The Mongrel observes the executions

How changeable, mused The Mongrel, was fate.

Long before the Brotherhood had begun its conquest of the Unknown Regions, the Catharian Hegemony had been poised to do the same. They had fought a brutal war against the Chiss Ascendancy, conquering many of their worlds, drawing perilously close to Csilla itself. Some might say that it was the attacks of the Hegemony, and the Jensaarai occupation before them, that had weakened the Chiss enough to fall to the Maw. Certainly the Hegemony's attempted conquest had inspired the strategy that the Brotherhood had employed.

They'd learned to take out Csilla first, not creep toward it.

The Hegemony had died, not with a bang, but a whimper. Their extensive territories had collapsed under the strain of war, the planets they had taken soon reconquered by the Chiss. But the Catharian dreams of empire had not truly been crushed until now, with a Brotherhood armada in orbit and Final Dawn soldiers marching in the streets. This planet would replace Copero, lost to an Alliance flank attack while the Maw was distracted attacking the ore, in the neo-Imperial production line. It would churn out new invasion fleets.

Fleets destined to burn the Core Worlds to ashes.

But the Hegemony was not the only once-mighty power to be brought low that day. Through unblinking cybernetic eyes, The Mongrel watched as the great Heathen Priest Æthelrath the Vengeful was brought forth in chains. The being who had been called Vicar of War, who had been exalted among the ranks of the priesthood, had committed an unforgivable sin: failure. His failure at Noris had cost the Brotherhood troops and ships it could ill afford to lose at this critical point in its holy crusade. For that, he had been judged. For that, he would die.

And his death would be a message to others.

Vicar Æthelrath and the rulers of the Hegemony, chained side by side, both slated for public execution, both examples of how the mighty could fall. It made The Mongrel wonder about himself... which was no doubt the point of the entire display. He had risen from the lowest ranks of the Brotherhood, going from a mere slave-soldier on the front lines to Warlord of one of the mightiest marauder tribes, but demonstrations like this reminded him that his position was not truly secure. The Maw was chaos, change, upheaval. Only the strong stayed on top.

And he had to wonder: was he strong anymore?

In the back of his mind, he felt the writhing and screaming of man his tormentors claimed to have killed when they made him. Kallan, the humble speeder mechanic, was awake now. Mercy's presence in his mind, touching the shards of his memories, awakening empathy he had long suppressed, had brought him back, reassembled him from the scattered pieces left behind. And now Kallan, that simple man who was capable of things like love and compassion and regret, dragged down The Mongrel's faith, broke his certainty.

As he watched the proceedings unfold, a fate he might share...

... The Mongrel knew he had to get Kallan out.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

Cathay, City of Xzeenia
Tags: The Mongrel Marlon Sularen The Messenger Darth Solipsis

The Heathen Priests were to be of no exception. The Wrath of the Maw himself emerged slowly before the crowd, watching to see if any hints of Rebellion had appeared. It didn’t matter to the hulking brute that stood flanked by some of the Knights of Ren, and Maw Holy Crusaders that stood guard over the lot of doomed souls destined to die. Kyrel himself was only here to make an example to the people of Cathay. Failure would not be tolerated within the ranks of the Maw, even worse so if a Heathen Priest was simply allowed to live in the face of such blunders. The Maw itself had become increasingly powerful as they grew closer to the core worlds. Kyrel himself mused that with the power of the Maw growing could soon rival that of the shadow of the Sith that hung over the band of fanatics and cultists.

His steps were slow, heavy as he savored the moments of fear, anguish and despair among the group of men in chains. His looks going from the prisoners doomed to die, to the crowd that watched in a mixture of excitement and anticipation. His hand gripped his saber tightly for at first he thought of making quick deaths, for the lot of the men had earned that much. Many of them had accepted the price for failure, as he noticed some were even praying to meet the glorious Maw when they died this day.

As while the Master of Ren pondered for a moment of addressing the crowd, he soon thought better of it. His actions would speak louder than words as his saber ignited with a hiss. The glow of the blood shine blade illuminated the faces of the men, while his eyes were fixed on the Heathen Priest. Then as quickly as his blade ignited then it had began. With the first group of men his saber either impaled them, or better yet started to let heads roll. He could feel a mix of excitement and fear blend in for those that watched completely silenced by the spectacle. Some even cheered as Kyrel slowly walked up to the priest.

He spoke to the priest as he kept his saber lowered. “Unlike those that have welcomed such fate… You will accept the penalty for failure… It will be far steeper than those that came with you…” He said as he slowly removed his death mask revealing his terrifying stitched face. Implying that the death of the Heathen Proest was about to be much worse than the simple executions he had just given.

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr (Mercy)
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor​

Objective: Protect Mongrel and Kallan
Location: Cathay, City of Xzeenia
Equipment: 2x PV-16 "Sunfury" Pulse Pistol | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | Promise of Freedom || OPBC-01m
Writing With: The Mongrel | Kyrel Ren | Marlon Sularen | The Messenger | Open

[ Lady of the Dark ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

I was tired, exhausted and completely insensitive to the rest of the world. I’ve basically barely slept anything since Noris, or if I did, it wasn’t even relaxing. Since Noris, I have been constantly forced to maintain the shield in our minds to protect them. Both Kallan and Mongrel. Mostly apart. The best way was to tear up the prison, the place where Ziare and Kallan were. I let them go back to the beautiful meadow-filled palace where Ziare was hiding since we were a little child. Partly in my mind, or in her... too many personalities and I think my mind was too divided at this point.

I was forced to share the deepest part of my mind with them to be able to protect both of them. To do this, for Kallan to be there with Ziare, I needed to be constantly awake. And I needed to find a state, where, while I am still asleep, I am still able to maintain the channel between the two of us. This is why I got an artefact for that. So now, when I sleep, I still maintain the shields, and our mind has been constantly connecting and connected since Noris. Wherever we are in the galaxy.

But, I never knew when something might happen, so I was always around. As it is today, here on the planet Cathay. When I opened my eyes, I was in a bed, covered. Feth! I think I fell asleep. I got dressed as fast as I could, and after I realised where he was, I hurried over there. My head hurt a little; I can't even imagine how much pain it would have been without my necklace. Sometimes I didn’t even know that there were still six of us, or just five, or four, and I had to help or endure all of them in one way or another.

I just wanted to rest… in a normal way, like a normal human being. To fall asleep in that man's embrace whom I loved. I just wanted this.

Being around him nowadays, a simple explanation, is just teaching me how to be a warlord because I don’t have enough skills in it yet. I finally arrived, softly, sneaking close to him. I am the shadow who always takes care of him in every way, and protects him. Even beyond my own strength. He... they were my only family members. The Mongrel and Kallan.

"Warlord!" I told him.

Then I saluted according to military standards. The appearance that I always maintain in all circumstances.

~ I fell asleep, I'm sorry, I'll strengthen the shields, he won't notice what's going on here, he won't bother you. ~ I promised him. ~ How do you feel, Mongrel? ~

And so I did, Ziare was there with him, in that place, though as I shared my consciousness and entered into our doubled mind palace she was gone by then she went back to the subconscious, we couldn’t be in one place at once. Not yet. But at least Kallan was never alone. Outside, for a moment I looked out the window of the house at the meadow, the mountains, the forest, the lake. My shelter was bigger than the house which was built by him. But the house was already part of my own larger mindpalace and Kallan could go out anytime he wanted. But I suddenly didn't see him when I got here.

~ Kallan? Where are you?! ~ I asked.

I looked at events further afield in reality, insensitive, with a cold gaze. I didn't care about their deaths. My empathy was for the two of them alone, Kallan and Mongrel, the rest of the world could still burn - only they mattered to me.

If ever our relationship is revealed, we will be there among those who are now being executed…

 

[Darth Vinaze]

There is but one certainty of mortality,
that empires rise and empires fall.
The galaxy in its totality,
poised for the end of it all...
​

Cathay was a statement. A harsh but necessary reminder of what the Brotherhood of the Maw was doing for the galaxy. The message was clear: those that stood against the inevitable, against the new world towards which the Sith'ari was their shepard, would not be suffered to live.

The New Sith Order was so many things: a burning passion, a creeping darkness, a destroyer of worlds, a liberator from the banality of peace. But above all else on this day, the New Sith Order was the coffinmaker, hammering the final nails into the casket before burying the last would-be empire of the Unknown Regions. Four more coffins lay empty, awaiting to inter those established powers that worked with futility against the cause of the Sith. There was no state, no ruler, no warrior of some lofty ideal that was out of reach for the headsman. Csilla proved that, and the kingmaker could still taste that swear despair when he looked into the hearts of Jedi. Doubt clouded their minds, riping them for the day the dark side would lord over them.

There was despair in the crowd, but most prevalent was the emotion of terror. So many of these people, mere children compared to the gods who stood above them, had not yet come to realize that their fate was sealed. But they would... as soon as Kyrel Ren's blade cleaved through the vicar's head.

Vinaze stood to the side, physically. A rare occurance. His assumed frame was black as midnight, not entirely humanoid. He would not blame the others present for mistaking him if they did, though he knew as well that few eyes would be falling on him today. It was the Lord Ren's show, and some spectacle it would be.


The Mongrel | Keilara Kala'myr | Kyrel Ren | Marlon Sularen | The Messenger

 

[Nyaeli]

F e a r

Location: Cathay
Attani Implant: Link!
Tag: Open!

Fear grows rampant in the hearts of the weak.​

Walking through the village, Nyaeli stood unopposed as her mind connected with those around her. The corrupted eyes of the Aruzan pierced through their souls and deep within even the strongest of their people, she could feel fear. It always spread like a virus — if one was overwhelmed by it, only more would follow, until nobody was free from its grasp. So all she needed to do was break those the weak relied on for strength, and shatter any remaining hope for a better future.

"If you are too weak to rise to your feet, then you'll live on your knees in chains."​

The words she projected into their minds were short, but none could resist the whispers she forced into them. Without a way to shield their minds, their will was hers to manipulate and control, and no longer their own until they found the strength to fight it. But none of them were strong enough to resist, and while Nyaeli wanted to end them for their weakness, she recognized their use as tools in the grand plans of the Sith.

How unfortunate for them.

"Your will is no longer your own, and your body a simple tool. As it was meant to be."​

Nyaeli grinned and stepped closer to one of the village's warriors, who sat on his knees with a look of horror frozen into his face, as he stared at the bodies of his family. He had tried everything he could to resist, but he too broke when she took away those he loved. If only he hadn't been so stubborn. Her hand then shifted underneath his chin and with a gentle tug, she forced his eyes to look up into her own, so he could see the evil he had unleashed against his own people.

"Do you understand?"​

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

Tags: Darth Vinaze , Kyrel Ren , Marlon Sularen , The Mongrel , Keilara Kala'myr , The Messenger

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

O Death

Fear... how it crept among the denizens of the crowd likely a writhing, formless entity, filling each soul with a brimming sense of terror in the sight of the heralds of the Avatars. Ironically, one of those heralds would be meeting their fate today, an example to those that would dare fail the Maw. As for Khamul, he wasn't particularly religious when it came to the Maw's dread deities. He held himself to the way of his people, to the way of the Mandalorian. He was a warrior and a conqueror, and only saw the Maw as a tool in his greater plan. That being said, he too hated weakness. It was a sickness that had pervaded his own people, drawing many of them away from their rich history and into the gutter. That sickness was to be rooted out without exception... even among the heathen priests themselves.

The fate of the man that was once one of the most revered among the Brotherhood would be a terrible and glorious sight. The ritual sacrifice, the great culling of the herd... it all brought a wicked smile to the Demon Mandalore's face. Not that anyone could see it through the expressionless gaze of his masked face, but nevertheless, the joy was there all the same. Khamul stalked his way toward the side, keeping quiet as he strode toward a familiar presence. It was that of Darth Vinaze, the man he had known since their time in the Warlords of the Sith. The one who transcended his mortal coil, only to return to continue cursing the world of the weak. A true symbol of the might of the all-encompassing darkness.

"It's been a while, Vinaze."

The dark, nearly formless being of Vinaze was unrecognizable, but Khamul could not mistake that lingering sensation of precious dread that Vinaze left in his wake. He stood next to him, looking onward to the wretch that was about to meet the wrath of Kyrel Ren.

"We're in for quite the show, I imagine. I wonder how many others will find themselves in this position."

It may have sounded like typical small talk from one blackened soul to another, but it carried much more weight between the words, as if Khamul were probing Vinaze for his thoughts on who would be the next to fail the Maw. Khamul had his own thoughts on the matter, but would keep them to himself, at least, for now...

 

[Darth Vinaze]

"We're in for quite the show, I imagine. I wonder how many others will find themselves in this position."

"Fear is a consuming notion. The lengths to which the masses will go to avoid it are many. These ones think it is merely a show of strength, incentive to submit. But they are wrong... this is merely a preamble for what is to yet to come." the lord's eyes remained shifting back and forth across the minds of the crowd. Then his stygian eyelids closed over windows into a starless galaxy. With his body still straight and aloof, he deftly turned to face the Mand'alor, pivoting only on the writhing mass of tentacles his abyssal robes could hardly contain.

"Khamul Kryze. I wonder what Kascalion or Pythia would have thought of your new appointment. You have surpassed all expectations, Mandalore." This was not the man Vinaze had once known, nor perhaps the man amongst the masses Vinaze had led in exodus to their rightful place at the foot of the Sith'ari. This man was one of those who embodied the death and rebirth which their new master preached. Kryze had carved a name for himself where pretenders like Giedfield and Voyance had failed. Pride was not emotion the spirit lord felt... but respect, he could manage that.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

THE DARK MONASTERY
Cathay

Objective: BYOO

Tags: Darth Solipsis Marlon Sularen The Mongrel Keilara Kala'myr Nyaeli Khamul Kryze Darth Vinaze Kyrel Ren

Equipment in bio.

DESCENT
​

Forever the lone shadow, Darth Ptolemis walked the vitrified crater with only his dark thoughts being his company. His boots set loose crystalline dirt and gravel that rolled forth along the declining terrain, straight toward the central Dark Monastery in the distance.

The unobstructed winds of Cathay sped up along the geological wound that the Sith Lord traversed, crawled under his oversized cloak, spreading it wide like corvid wings. The corrupted Fondorian kept walking toward the shadowy building, thinking to himself about the curious past of this tectonic formation and

what entombed secrets he may unearth within the Monastery. His spiked mask reflected the local sun's light as he gazed over the vast, barren area around him. The execution at Xzeenia, although a valuable setting for absorbing information that related to current matters, was quickly designated secondary priority in the mind of the Masked One as soon as he researched the planet's history and happened upon the mention of one Dark Monastery. There wasn't a greater value in this decaying universe than ancient secrets and forbidden knowledge. It is in the nature of the weak to lock away primal truths, for they point at unnerving realities about Life, and often, about and the Force. Ptolemis needed to pry open these vessels of knowledge, whatever form they may take and whatever obstacles were in place to hinder him in achieving just that.

All of a sudden, crushing waves like oily waters stopped the Lord in his tracks. His cape and hood whipped about in the wind as he stood near the entrance of the unholy structure. These ripples nailed his feet into the ground not in a physical sense, but transmitted through the Force. 'A terrible, all-encompassing darkness lies ahead.' The truth formed in his twisted mind like a foreboding revelation, taking over his free will and manifesting a layer of bleak shadow he needed to endure in order to continue on. A perverted sense of eagerness fused with his entire being. He stood face to face with an opportunity to learn.

Immediately upon arriving at the building, wordless messages in the form of obliterated corpses punctuated his surroundings. The Sith Lord looked at them, and recognized the characteristic branding of the Dark Side upon their contorted bodies. 'Who is this powerful seeker that preceded me?' The question lingered in his brain as he stepped over the discarded cadavers. He knew, of course, that other members of his Order could have found out about the Monastery just as easily as him – yet Ptolemis wondered if he had ever experienced such suffocating dread heralding someone's presence before. Perhaps the building meant nothing – perhaps the dark presence he was meant to find. Whatever the answer was, it awaited him deeper inside the building. The Masked Darth Ptolemis unclipped a flare from his waistbelt, cracked it alight, and amid blooming red fumes he disappeared beneath the tall arches of the entrance and entered the Dark Monastery of Cathay.​

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Cathay, City of Xzeenia
Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

Spoiler: TL;DR

• The Mongrel talks with Mercy

There she was at his side - his shadow, half-healer and half-destroyer. Once he had been so hungry for her touch. She had been the only person in the galaxy who could make him feel, who could pierce the cold metal shell he existed within, filling the void in his soul with reminders of why life was worth living. He had craved her presence like a spice addict desperate for his next fix. Denied martyrdom again and again, he had lived only for the moments he could spend with her, the way she could make him feel. Nothing else had mattered.

But as Mercy had taught The Mongrel how to strengthen his mind, how to build a little palace for them within his thoughts, there had been consequences. He had wanted to please her, to open himself more to her, to share what little he had to give with the woman who had given him a reason to go on. As his mind had grown stronger, the bonds that the Heathen Priests had placed around it had begun to strain, like ropes that could no longer contain growing muscles. Soon they could not hold him back, and he had broken the locks on his memories.

All at once, the thing - no, the person - he craved most had become dangerous. The fragments of his old self, no longer buried by the torture and reconditioning that the Taskmaster had put him through, had been drawn back together. Kallan had been reborn within his mind, a mind that was suddenly overcrowded, for there was not truly room for two. Mercy had healed him, but her healing had also come dangerously close to breaking his overstrained mind all over again. And when he had begged her to separate his personalities...

... the request had broken her heart.

Somehow Mercy loved them both, Kallan and The Mongrel, the humble mechanic and the monstrous warlord. Asking her to divide them was like asking her to tear apart her own family, the only two in the galaxy who cared for her so deeply. But until she did, until Kallan and Mongrel were separate once more, he needed her more than ever. Only she could keep up the shields that kept his different selves from overlapping; without her, he would surely go mad, ripped apart by the force of two completely different men competing for one body.

"Mercy," he said, returning her salute. He gave no outward sign of the deep (and ever-deepening) bond they shared; they had plenty of practice concealing their relationship, for if it had become known, both would have been in terrible danger. Perhaps they would have been the next on the execution block, condemned for their weakness, for putting their own lives and love ahead of the unyielding faith that the Maw demanded. "Come," he told her, indicating the seat beside him. "Join me." He wanted her close. He always did.

~ I am... better, thanks to you, ~ The Mongrel replied in his mind, a message he could send only through her telepathic gift. ~ I... I appreciate your sacrifice, ~ he told her. He knew what it cost her to shield his mind, keeping his competing halves separate. He knew that she barely slept, that she focused with all her might - and all the power of her crystal - on keeping him sane and whole, even though it meant she could not be with both him and Kallan. Even though she was broken too, three selves within her mind.

Mercy. Keilara. Ziare. She could contain them all somehow.

She was stronger than him.

Inside Ziare's mental shelter, the door swung open, and the speeder mechanic stepped through. ~ I'm here, ~ he told her, smiling. Some of his memories were still gone, lost forever in the white-hot pain the Mawites had inflicted on him... and he could not fully remember what he was supposed to look like. His features changed sometimes in that mind palace, the curve of his nose, the height of his cheekbones, the color of his eyes. But he was Kallan, a simple man, a good man. He walked to Ziare and embraced her, comforting her.

~ I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. This place you've built... it's so beautiful. ~ He had been walking outside, hiking through the meadow at the edge of the lake. Through Ziare's palace of memories he could feel the wind on his face and the grass beneath his feet. He could touch the cool, crystal-clear waters and feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. ~ Thank you, ~ he told her, offering her a tender smile. ~ It's wonderful to be a separate person again. It's wonderful to be free. ~ For as long as it could last, anyway...

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor​

Objective: Protect Mongrel and Kallan
Location: Cathay, City of Xzeenia
Equipment: 2x PV-16 "Sunfury" Pulse Pistol | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | Promise of Freedom || OPBC-01m
Writing With: The Mongrel

[ Lady of the Dark ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

~ Reality: Mongrel and Mercy ~
~ Don't overdo it, you don't usually salute! That's just my habit. ~ I just smiled at him in thought and scolded him a little.

It took a lot of effort at this moment not to smile at him in reality either. Over the years, I’ve learned that he’s not really interested in military hierarchy and etiquette. Maybe this was the first time he had saluted back. True, it was the first official venue, a place where he was not just talking to anyone, but he had time to turn his full attention to me. Or maybe I was too tired to remember if this happened earlier too. I looked at the chair next to him and then nodded with respect.

"Yes, warlord! You honour me!" I answered in a military voice.

I sat down in the chair and still watched the execution. I reached out to his mind with my own, too, and stimulated a part of it that he could felt like I had leaned against him from the side, leaning my head over his shoulder, or just resting my chin softly on his shoulder while I watched him and "weaving" my fingers between his fingers. I didn’t move in reality, but the illusion may at least be that we both feel the illusion is reality. Where you don't have to hide. I'm glad to hear he's better now.

~ You don't owe me a thank you. I caused it all, unintentionally. I never thought I would almost cause a catastrophe with that simple practice. I just wanted to get to know you better. And I didn’t want your injured brain to get any worse… just because of Scar Hounds then… ~ I smiled for a moment in thought as I looked at him in my mind and then pressed a kiss to his face in thought.

When we felt only longing for each other, maybe everything was different, easier. But it was years ago. A lot has changed since then. I never thought I would call him my family one day. Both him and Kallan. There were only two left, there was a longer phase when there were three; deep in the "cellar", the original Kallan and Ziare, in the mental palace with Keilara, a strange mixture of me, and the strange mixture of Kallan and Mongrel, respectively. And here I am, Mercy, with Mongrel. In his case, the mixture was gone. In my case, Keilara became me and Ziare and increasingly she was dominant everywhere. The original personality, the original we. Probably one day she will be the only one who remains.

~ Sometimes it would be so good if your rules weren’t so strict… and I could yell at the world that I am yours. If we didn’t have to hide, but let everyone know that I am your lover, your partner… your family ~ I said the family carefully, he knew I considered him my family, but I wasn’t sure if he thought the same way; I think I'm not too confident when I'm tired and exhausted. ~ Not because of power, not because of influence, just so I can hug you when I want to or kiss you. So that we can go somewhere together like an average couple, walking hand in hand… to let the rest of the Galaxy know that I am the luckiest person in the world… ~ I told him telepathically. ~ I think I'm too romantic when I'm tired… ~

Meanwhile, in reality, I didn't look at it for a moment, I just watched the execution, with a rigid, military back, as emotionless as expected…

~ Mindpalace: Kallan and Keilara ~
I looked at the door as it opened. I was infinitely relieved to see him. I was very worried about what might happen to him, I didn’t know if he was in trouble or not. I thought Mongrel was the stronger personality, and if they got together, they could both die. When he embraced me, I returned the hug, as if I was afraid I would lose him forever if I let him go.

~ I was just starting to build, Ziare finished it when we tore apart and she became the main personality. I'm Keliara, Kallan. I know Ziare was here when you went out because I was asleep. I'm sorry we can't have three of us here. So either I'm here or she is. She's down there in the "basement", in my subconscious, and Mercy's out there with Mongrel. ~ I explained, sometimes I felt a little like we were too many in our head.

I knew Mercy wanted to see Kallan too, but she couldn't get in here. Ziare locked her out, it was her refuge. And it was both of me, that’s why I was able to come here. I created it, but I ceased to exist in the meantime because of the torture. For a long time it was just Ziare and then Freedom came, but she was killed by Mercy. Then I started to re-created myself because of Kallan and Mongrel. And because of the previous head injury on Csaus, where Mercy wanted to destroy me, but she woke me up.

~ This place… one of the estates of my family. I think it's already mine, on Serenno. We'll go there once in reality, I promise. I loved being here as a kid, we loved being here. No one has ever hurt us here. This line of the family was normal. There used to be a castle here, Mercy was locked there. I don’t know if the castle was reality or just the product of my mind. We never went there, we were afraid of it. When Mercy was released, the castle disappeared from here. And... this house fits better here because it's ours. ~ I smiled kindly at him.

In his comforting embrace, I needed all my strength not to start to cry. Especially when he said freedom. It broke my heart again. And one more thing. I didn't know which one of us he loved. Ziare, me, or Mercy. Would he be able to accept Mercy at all? I knew Mongrel's choice, the answer was easy there, but here? I couldn’t and didn’t have the courage to ask, I was afraid the answer would break my heart even more.

~ You're not completely free yet, we're trying. We try to do everything we can, but Mercy and I are afraid that one of you or both of you will be injured or die in the process. But we will try to free you, I promise. Soon! ~ I promised him.

And I was still a fething coward…

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

Tags: Darth Vinaze , Kyrel Ren , Marlon Sularen , The Mongrel , Keilara Kala'myr , The Messenger

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

O Death

There was a sense of joy bubbling within Khamul as Vinaze spoke of things to come. The glorious death of the weak was, in the end, all that mattered to the Unchained. He constantly sought that joy, that satisfaction a predator feels when killing its prey. It was the way of his people, after all... to be the predator in a galaxy ripe with weak prey.

"Yes, many don't have such foresight. They play the game, they praise the Avatars, but most don't see beyond the next day. If they did... well, I'm not sure they could stare into that abyss. After all, it tends to stare back."

He turned toward the eldritch mass of tentacles and shadow, his masked gaze falling upon the visage of his old comrade.

"Many have underestimated me through the years. Most of them are dead, either by my hand, or another. Others have taken their leave from the galactic stage, lost to history like so many of the weak that came before them."

Khamul thought back on all of those years, even as far back as his childhood. Under the tutelage of Darth Petrichor, he learned to harness the darkness within him. Yet even his old master sought to contain that same darkness, a futile attempt that only awoke the demon within.

"I must admit, even under the banner of the Warlords, I was still searching for some semblance of purpose. It wasn't until I killed the beast on Helgard that I truly understood."

The Krokros had been a truly worthy opponent, putting Khamul into a position where he had to muster all of his power just to survive. It was that day that turned him into a true apex predator, the Hellhound that he was always meant to be. Khamul had an idea of what he wanted up till then, but hadn't truly grasped the full scope of that desire. Now, he understood perfectly.

"You have exceeded expectations as well, Vinaze. Not many have achieved what you have. I suppose that we both found ourselves, in our own way."

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Cathay, City of Xzeenia
Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

Spoiler: TL;DR

• The Mongrel talks with Mercy

He'd slipped up, and it had taken her pointing it out for him to notice. To the outside world, to the savage warlords and marauders of the Brotherhood who bayed for blood all around them, Mercy was nothing but his servant - a trusted servant, perhaps, and a skilled warrior, but nothing more than that. Certainly not one who deserved a salute, or the honor of a seat beside the Lord of the Scar Hounds himself. To him, of course, she was so much more. Lover, healer, weakness, friend, his reason to persist in this broken galaxy.

But he wasn't supposed to let anyone see that...

... and he couldn't afford mistakes like this.

Cursing himself silently, The Mongrel turned his head to survey the crowd, checking if anyone had noticed his lapse. Thankfully, no one seemed to care. The Brotherhood - with the exception of the Final Dawn, who were much closer in culture and outlook to the NIO than to the marauder tribes they fought beside - was not generally all that concerned with etiquette or procedure. Respect and rank were earned through strength and courage on the battlefield, not formal promotions. There were no uniforms, no protocols that must be obeyed.

And everyone was focused on the executions anyway.

The Mongrel no longer actually breathed, but he let out a figurative sigh of relief as Mercy slid into the chair beside him. Neither of them paid any attention to the grim spectacle playing out on the stage; though they did not outwardly show it, they had eyes only for each other. ~ I don't blame you for... for what happened, ~ he told her. In his mind he raised a hand to cup her cheek - a hand made of flesh, not metal, which was possible only in this palace of thoughts. ~ What we've shared... the joy has been worth the fear and pain in between. ~

She told him what she wanted, what she wished he would say and do... and his heart ached. ~ I wish that, too, ~ he told her. ~ I wish that we were free. ~ He didn't have to say the next part; they both knew it. They knew that The Mongrel could never be free. He was a creation of the Heathen Priests, a man forged for only one purpose: to fight and die in the name of the Three Avatars, the dark gods of the Maw. He could not escape that destiny. If he tried, he would be damned for all eternity, cursed never to pass into paradise when he fell.

In his mind he let Mercy's head rest on his shoulder, stroked her hair.

In reality, he sat stiffly beside her, staring blankly ahead.

------------------------------------------------
​

~ Keilara, ~ Kallan corrected himself, pulling back from the hug to look at her. ~ I'm sorry, ~ he said, offering her a sad little smile. ~ Sometimes it's hard for me to keep track of... of everything. ~ He was growing stronger, a fully-formed personality within The Mongrel's mind now... but there were pieces of him that had not come back, that would never be restored. The Heathen Priests had torn him apart, and even with Mercy's help putting him back together, he still found gaps in himself, voids that nothing could fill, scars that could not heal.

~ Serenno, ~ he whispered, forming his lips around the unfamiliar name. ~ There's so much of the galaxy that I never saw, Keilara. So much beauty out there, beyond this awful, grinding war. I want to see it, to remind myself that there's so much worth living for. ~ He smiled down at her, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. ~ I want to see it all with you. ~ No castle dungeons for them, he promised himself. When they were free, they would walk together in open meadows. Cold stone walls would never contain them again.

~ It's okay, ~ Kallan told her, holding her close again. ~ I know you're trying. I trust you. I'm not afraid. ~ And he wasn't, oddly enough, not even when he thought of the possibility of death. After what he had been through, torn apart and tormented, forced to watch as his body and mind were twisted into monstrous weapons, the cold silence of the grave did not seem so frightful. If he was erased in the effort to free him, to remove him from The Mongrel's mind, he would face that fate with courage and dignity. He would find peace.

But he would be more than a little sad, too.

He wanted to walk in that meadow.

With her.

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Vinaze could not deny that Kryze was a hunter, among the best. That was what made Death's Hand so formidable... they did not hunt for any reward other than the hunt itself. In truth Vinaze knew little about the inner workings of the Mandalorians. Until he had met Khamul and his fanatics, Vinaze had simply tallied the Mandos as another casualty of the Sith Empire. For all the hatred he had born towards that ill old state, he recognized still the truimph of the strong over the weak. Perhaps he was wrong in seeing the Mandos as weak.

Vinaze recalled well the day the Warlords of the Sith went to Helgard, cementing themselves as gods in the pantheon of those primal natives. That was the day his former apprentice Kuric had begun his undoing. Hindsight was strong, stronger than anything. Though he could see the glorious path laid out in their future, he regretted not taking The Unchained as a student when he had the chance.

"You have exceeded expectations as well, Vinaze. Not many have achieved what you have. I suppose that we both found ourselves, in our own way."

"We, the glorious who hath been reborn, are hard pressed not to succeed. We have put ourselves at the feet of the strongest Sith ever to exist. I spent years searching for the one to call Sith'ari, through hazy visions, twisted dreams, and so many masters not blessed by fate. For I saw Him upon the dark throne, twas then that I knew. And He scarcely believed. But look at what has come since Solipsis has accepted the mantle."

Vinaze gently outstretched an arm across the crowd, as if to hold them in the palm of his hand.

"My faith has been rewarded with life after death. Yours has made you champion of your kind. Their faith..."

Not all in the crowd were so sullen and defeated. Through the masses there were those who shared the sentiments of the two Lords, even if they were lowly. Be they acolytes, marauders, any others who had come to terms with reality and embraced the darkness. Yes, their faith...

"will be rewarded with paradise."

Khamul Kryze

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor​

Objective: Protect Mongrel and Kallan
Location: Cathay, City of Xzeenia
Equipment: 2x PV-16 "Sunfury" Pulse Pistol | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | Promise of Freedom || OPBC-01m
Writing With: The Mongrel

[ Lady of the Dark ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

~ Reality: Mongrel and Mercy ~
That part wasn't striking to me when he told me to sit next to him. That was not the first case; when there was nothing between us yet and he was around the other leaders of the Maw, he even called me once to join him. I never knew why. Maybe as a reward? I didn't ask him. That's when he used that spider-like body. And if the rumours were true, there he also had brain damage due to a lack of oxygen. Back then. Although it is now not felt at all after a lot of practice, it was hard work, but totally worth it. I was officially his advisor, so I think his offer was fit. Anyway, the advisor is always a "position of trust".

It was easy for me to share my attention, so I watched with interest the execution, who was nearby. I saw Kyrel Ren, Sularen and the Mandalore with someone else whom I didn't know…

Returning to our minds, I smiled at him as he touched my cheek. I reached for him with my hand, then turned my face slightly to the side and breathed a kiss into his palm. After his words, I now reached for his cheek and smoothed it gently, leaning a little closer to him.

~ I would suffer all the pain and torture again just for to be with you, again and again. For shared memories, for everything, for you! ~ no one could take this from us, I leaned to him, if he let me, I breathed a gentle kiss on his lips.

Yeah, I wanted that too, I really didn't have to go on, I knew. It squeezed my heart and it hurt. Because I wasn’t sure if I would be able to tear the chains so that he would remain intact. Oh! Fortunately, however, I was always creative, or at least considered myself that way.

~ I have an idea. Intermediate solution. Let's be free for a few days. If the execution is over, do not go back to Exagol immediately. It's like we're doing some personal business. Let’s go to a more desolate, nearly uninhabited planet where they don’t know us, they don’t know about Maw, they don’t know who you are. Where we can be ourselves. Vacation, day off. And we'll go home before the next battle. No one will miss you, they'll not even notice you weren't there! What do you think? ~ I asked with excitement in my voice despite all my efforts.

I closed my eyes for a moment in my mind as he stroked my hair. It was so peaceful.

"Do you think they learn from this, warlord? Or do they continue to fight what is inevitable?" I asked him in reality.

~ I have to say something… you had so few challengers in recent years because I have killed almost all of them. I've been trying to take care of you since Durace. I tried to kill anyone who might be a threat to you. ~ at the end of my words, I put my chin on his shoulder and watched his face with interest as he would react to this news.

~ Mindpalace: Kallan and Keilara ~
I looked at him sternly, after apologising. I don’t know how successful this gaze was because I wasn’t really mad at him, I wasn’t angry at him. I was just glad he was here to be so good. Even if he’s a little slow and not as smart and brilliant as Mongrel. Not yet! I knew and trusted that one day he would be again. I shook my head and tried to scold him. It was hard because I really wanted to comfort him, but in that situation, it might have only made his condition worse. I had to be strict with him, so he feels better.

~ Don’t talk about yourself like that, you don’t have to apologise to anyone, especially not me. Not so long ago you weren't more than a few shreds of memory. You are almost entirely yourself now. I know some parts are missing, some things are lost forever, but we’ll fill those with our shared memories of what we do together. You may not be able to concentrate that way yet like before, but you haven’t even existed for nearly fifteen years, you’ve been in pieces. Don't be so strict with yourself! You have already achieved something that is almost impossible. And you will be better than you are now. But there is still a lot of work to be done for both of us. I will be here, I will help, I will support you as before. We can do it together. It will get easier. ~

I had to take a break for a moment before I could continue my words.

~ Besides, you and Mongrel are the strongest people I know. How many people do you know who survived Maw’s torture and were able to tear their chains? Not even one. It’s not enough that you survived what the Heathen Priests did to you, but you were born again. You live and become more and more yourself. ~

Now there was peace in Serenno, yes, and in a lot of places in those regions, but when I was young, there was a war against the Sith there as well. I fought in it too, for my life. To have a better life. I probably didn’t mean Maw when I wanted better, but it was worth it. A lot of suffering, pain, torment. But being with Kallan and Mongrel… it worth all the suffering and pain. I wanted to continue my words as he smiled at me and put a gentle kiss on my forehead.

~ This is cheating, Kallan! If you act like this I can't get mad at you and I can't be angry at you, because… ~ because you speak nonsense; but I didn't say that out loud, I just looked up at him and smiled kindly at him, my eyes weren't angry anymore, my gaze wasn't strict either, just worried and I looked into this eyes with love, with true love. ~ We will see! In fact, MANIAC… the AI of my biochip can project images or holofilms into my mind. I think you could see these now because of the connection between the two of us. Or I can share my own memories with you of what I saw. Until we can go there in reality. Together. And through these, you see what else awaits us. ~ I offered.

As he pulled me close again and held me close, I hugged him around his neck, put my face to his neck, and propped it up there. In his words, he wasn't afraid, tears streamed down my face. I wasn't afraid of my own death, what others might do to me, but I was afraid of what would happen to him, to them.

~ But I do! I'm afraid. I am afraid I will lose you or him… both of you. According to this, you are braver than I am… ~ I whispered hoarsely. ~ I love you Kallan! I love you! ~

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Objective: Executions
Nearby: Darth Vinaze The Mongrel
Keilara Kala'myr Khamul Kryze Marlon Sularen The Messenger


Even when the Heathen Priest didn’t reply to Kyrel, he didn’t even look his executioner in the eye. As if the priest had become so resided to his fate what was the point? It only angered the Master of Ren as his face stared into what eyes the priest had. For all intents and purposes this was the first time that Kyrel had actually dealt with a Heathen Priest this close, always appearing in giant holograms or in much more intimidating forms to keep the act up. Up close Kyrel didn’t seem pleased with how pathetic they appeared to now. He had seen the same look in the same men all his life. Those that were doomed to die seemed so powerless.

The others in the crowd either waited in anticipation, or watched and not even cared. The Wrath of the Maw preferred that it was Solipsis he was executing, but instead he had to make due with who he had. When his death mask clanked to the ground it was a sign of the real fun. Slowly with the Force he picked the man up. Looking to the crowd he spoke to them. “Those that dare defy the Brotherhood shall suffer the same fate…”

He said as he let all those look at his scarred face. Letting them look for a moment, slowly with his free hand he started to morph his arm. Coming out of his arm was deep dark crimson jagged looking crystals. The crystals glowed with fury as he made the Kyber crystals into jagged edges perfect for stabbing into his foe. “Let’s start with your limbs… You don’t need those right?”

He mocked the priest as slowly the same Kyber rugged blades started to slice into the legs. Even when the Priest didn’t speak, screams started to come out. The screams mixed with the sawing of flesh and bone. Each limb was made horrendously slow as if to savor the screams. Even going as far as to lick the dripping of blood each cut had made. Soon with the legs coming off, he shot out his tongue to take pieces of the legs into his own maw. Devouring the legs with such brutality that the executioner podium was made into a bloody mess. It would only continue with the arms next.

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

Tags: Darth Vinaze , Kyrel Ren , Marlon Sularen , The Mongrel , Keilara Kala'myr , The Messenger

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

O Death

Sith'ari... a title that Khamul had heard thrown around one too many times through the years. Everyone seemed to claim this lord or that lord as such, and yet none of them seemed to come close to truly embodying the full scope of the title. Yet, Solipsis somehow came closer than any before him. Perhaps he was the Sith'ari, after all...

"Solipsis has indeed shown the galaxy what true strength looks like. I imagine few, if any, will accomplish the things he has. Even Kascalion bent the knee to him on Mustafar. As for myself, well..."

His voice trailed off for a moment as he stared into the gathered multitudes, to the gathered mass of the faithful. Such great and terrifying devotion... it both inspired and sickened the Demon Mandalore at the same time. The countless members of the Maw was truly awe-inspiring, as it was incredible to think that so many could be gathered under one banner. Yet, to Khamul, faith itself only went so far. Faith without strength was of little worth to a Mandalorian, and even less to Khamul.

"I am simply following my own path. That path has led me to the Dark Voice, at least, for now..."

It was no secret that Khamul had his own aims. After all, a Sith was nothing without their ambitions. His own goals simply aligned with those of the Dark Voice, and as long as they did, he would gladly fight for the now proclaimed Sith'ari.

"You see, Vinaze, though I am a Sith, I am also a Mandalorian. My duty is to my people first, and that will never change. Wielding the Dark Side simply allows me to help my people see their true path, one way or another."