I. Magnus. (TAE & Allies)

[Mythos]

ANKHYPT

PALACE OF MYTHOS

The Crowd had gathered from every system in the ancient eye for this occasion, it was to be a religious and royal event the likes of which had never been seen in wild space for thousands of years. The Sorcerers of the newly conquered lands of Tund as well as the priests of Ankhypt had come to see something that they both awaited so dearly. For the first time since Darth Malak, a Magnus would be crowned. Mythos resented the title given to him as God-King, resented the Darth title, resented the very idea of a mere lord or king as he now was the centerpiece of a warmachine and civilization that the galaxy had never seen before. As such he came through in his studies of a title unclaimed for millenia.

Sith Magnus. Ironic, that a power that did not call itself sith was here, crowning a Sith Monarch as it's universal vestige of authority and divine power. A top the great pyramid was the throne Mythos himself had carved with his smiths and workers, covered in jewels and rare ores but entirely bathed in the gold of the worlds under his grasp. The sun shined on the metallic constructs of the pyramids near and far, the very air was heavy with anticipation.

He prepared his climb, a day before he had called [member="Asteria deWinter"] herself, one of the few One Sith Lords who still remained in the shadows to come and grace him with her presence. This was but the last of the day, the entire day had been festivities and music, great food and drink to be had from one end of the city to the other as religion met celebration, it was touted as the coming of not only a lord but a liberator, a promise of a greater life and good for all who inhabited. The mad and crazy idea that the galaxy could be ruled by a single man and still be better for all. Tales were told, not lies, true tales of Mythos' battles and the battles of those in the past he fought alongside with. The prowess of combat of [member="The Matador"], The Wisdom of @Kainan Wofle, The Prophecy regarding [member="Seras Rose"], the mysterious woman in the shadows Ra. Even stories and tales of those not partaking or at least not expected to arrive. The conquering of Panatha side by side with [member="Darth Carnifex"], Tales of [member="Darth Metus"] in his battles as a Mandalorian and as a warrior of the One Sith. The Battle of Atrisia re-told in all it's majesty. Abelain was given a heroes welcome, Kiso regarded as a national warrior and of course every soldier of the Shrouded Republic showered in petals of flowers and drinks to their hearts content. They had been told that all the riches brought to Ankhypt and to the people were from the gods because the Shrouded republic and the soldiers of the ancient eye had been graced with divine favor.

One was not celebrated, One was not revered. One was feared. The Lord of the dead [member="Skorvek"] would never receive praise from the living. All respected the dead but no one wanted to join them. The gift he would receive were those of pleading and begging, to stave off the inevitable cold of the grave or to grant them mercy in Nialthim, the paradise land. None were so feared, none were so avoided but not of hate or anger but of respect for the natural and eventual end that he represented. None could bargain when Skorvek would come, not even the Magnus himself. What the Gods giveth, Skorvek taketh away.

The wise and great [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] was center piece for scholars, many seeking where the Sith Lord dwelt to find his wisdom for their own. Females enthralled by the legend of [member="Sage Bane"] and his dashing looks and mind manipulating powers. The tale of Mythos and Lady fantana of house Chaf and of course, probably the favorite story of all the young men and women of the ancient eye. The battle of Lujo and [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] and [member="Coci Heavenshield"] as told by Mythos himself. He spared no detail in the days before the event telling and re-telling the tale of the strong and brave Jedi and his beautiful wife that fought him and how they both shared the concept of honor and how he swore that he would one day reach Midvinter and introduce him to all. Many called it a Myth, a man that tall? strong enough to break durasteel? A jedi called the silver shadow how would vanish into the air? truly that could never be the truth, it was a folks tale! Yet Mythos assured them it was true, showing them the wooden figurine of his own daughter as proof of the deed, saying it was this figurine than granted him the jedi's mercy as she too, before coming into Mythos' arms, was his daughter as well. This story rocked many a child to sleep at night for what child does not want to be a hero and a great warrior, for how many children played in the gardens of Anhkypt and they would ask "Who are you today?" and the girls would say that they are Master Coci, The boys would say Mythos or Thurion. All boys in heart wanted nothing more than to be the brave and powerful yet wise and kind Thuruion and this was the key to his power.

"To win a people do not instill fear but instead love and pride. None can claim your throne when you in fact are a good king to all. Let the young drink of your fountains, let the lovestruck come claim your blessings, let the weary rest at your palace steps, let the hungry eat from your royal table and let poor work for your royal creed. Do this Seras and your rule will last well after your death and if you are conquered those who conquer you will never stop fighting. You will become a Myth, a Legend and that is the one thing in the galaxy that can never be erased. You will become Immortal"

He looked at Seras and nodded before looking at the thousand steps to the top of the pyramid. His ascention to the top would be one of reflection but from there he would look down and see a people ready for a new future and a crusade across the starts that would reign in an era of power and gold that would never be erased. For as long a single soldier of his still stood with him in heart, The Ancient Eye would still gaze into the galaxy...

"We have found the first piece. I shall tell you about it when I return. The Eye, It is time we start assembling it. We must not waste more time."​

 

[Asteria deWinter]

Centuries had passed and yet the galaxy somehow remained the same. Names had changed but the power still tasted the same, the players still play the game and the weak fell. The cycle was always the same, a web spread throughout time and space. It weaved the steps when plain eyes could not see. Lady deWinter lived a quiet couple of decades, since the collapse of the last group she had committed to. Short-lived but promising, though it delivered not what it should have. She had once governed an entire sector whereas now, she lived between an ancient distant world and her business, words so far apart yet both suiting to the businesswoman and Sith Sorceress in many ways.

Yet when an old name called out, Asteria grew curious. When you owned a company like the Red Lady, its purpuse plenty, you kept your fingers on the pulse of the galaxy. Always aware, always listening and watching. There was no other way to live. Murmurs that reached her ear were fascinating though, the blond would noblewoman would admit to that. An empire of an ancient religion. It almost sounded familiar, she'd thought to herself though they had not served gods in their endevors, they had served the ancient Family of Darkness in their endevours, blood of which coursed through her very veins, blood which was the reason for her slumber and the awakening long past the disease that had inflicted the galaxy... so long ago, it seemed now.

The Ice Princess made its landing upon the planet Ankhypt, swift permission granted due to her invitation. Her planet transport had been waiting, leading her through the city. It had given Sorceress a chance to glimpse at the city she hadn't been to before, taking in the architecture and the festivities throughout the city. The crowning of the God-King, is it not what the shadows had whispered to her upon the receieved invitation? Today was the way. How peculiar that the former One Sith should ascend in such a way, she'd thought as she was taken through the streets, her chin rising a bit as she'd taken in the tall pyramid she was being taken to.

At the edge of the gathered crowd, her carriage had come to a halt and the woman in gold stepped out, standing amongst the people. They were focused on the pyramid and as she realized then, to [member=Mythos] as his voice boomed through. So the Lady of deWinter blood stood and listened as he spoke of youth, blessings, the hungry and the Legend to become. And the Sorceress could not deny her interest had indeed peeked in the message.

 

[Darth Abyss]

Ankhypt, Palace of Mythos

Darth Abyss had claimed no honor nor pride as he stood among the crowed unseen, his deformed armor hidden countless below layers of black and grey rags. His own crude crown, not a symbol of his rule but rather of his mastery of the force, was obscured by the wide hood of his tattered black robe, and besides his hollow eyes all features of his motionless face remained obscured by even more layers of black cloth. Not just his appearance was masked, but also his deranged, hungering presence that normally weighted upon those around him. From the outside he was merely a black drop, in an endless see of color.

His forces had fought among the first wave of the Eye when Nibelung fell, and for that alone he could've probably claimed some sort of title, maybe his allies had already given him one. Yet the Prophet had no interested in the game of kings and crowns, in titles and respect. He had joined the Eye because they allowed him to exercise the freedoms he desired, and aiding them in return was a small price to pay.

His presence at [member="Mythos"]' official ascend, both figuratively and literally, was just a gesture of respect for the Eye's leader, not a true interested in the happenings of today. He had seen it all, Kings and Queens, Lords and Ladys, CEOs and whoever else claimed to be powerful, gathering to celebrate some arbitrary ritual to please the people. It was a smart move on Mythos side, but for Abyss it was merely like watching a insect colony bow before the gigantic human that could end them all with a single step.

From his position deep within the crowed the husk continued to observe the people and their new God-King. The title gave him a odd sense of pleasure, born from little more then spite towards the Empire of the Sith, despite the fact that it was as meaningless as any other name given by maggots to beings of great power.

[member="Asteria deWinter"]

 

[Nomkneer]

Nomkneer had attended the single greatest coronation the universe has ever had, millions of people shouted [member="Mythos"] name throughout the land awaiting for the king to arrive. Anticipation was in the air as much as celebration and happiness.

Nomkneer sat back letting everything unfold as he knew Mythos deserved it.The kaleesh had been part of almost every single battle but was glad that his name was not mentioned for he is as the shadows he creates.

Keeping his darkside energy hidden as his black cloak covered his face. The time was getting ripe for coronation. Fortunately there was ale of all kinds for consuming as Nomkneer is not very fond of parties but for his friend he would attend.

The kaleesh did not know what to give him but then it ocurred to him and as he stepped forward getting closer to the throne. Using the force he left his first mask beside his throne, the very mask Nomkneer used as an acolyte and knight througouht the battles beside Mythos. In it there was traces of his dark energy which caused the insanity that posseses the kaleesh every day, it was but a gift of sincere gratitude for being the only one apart from Darth Erebos to ever truly understand him.

 

[Kay-Larr]

Kay arrived a little while ago, after the invitation had arrived on her desk. This wasn't the first time that she had seen [member="Mythos"] crowned. Long ago she had witnessed his coronation on Atrisia. As well as his funeral. Now he had formed another Empire again and she had wondered if history would repeat itself. Would he rise to power and then lose it due to his ego and thirst for war? Only time would tell.

As promised, Kay had brought a few escort cruisers with her when she came into orbit. Following that she arrived through the atmosphere in her most comfortable ship, the Free Lady. She brought bodyguards as well, a handful of them, as that too was by request. She had wanted to bring [member="Macoda Haberon"] , but given how much he detested Force users and the Sith in particular, she had him stay behind. Her husband [member="Veiere Arenais"] was far from home, off on hisown journey that she wasn't entirely comfortable with. So for today she had asked for [member="Virak Ip"] to come with her, the representative of Sev Tok was well versed in the Darkside. She didn't need to shelter him.

Kay kept her Force signature down to that of a small tree nut as she watched from a fair enough distance away from those that she didn't wish to be near.

Such a spectacle was normal for Mythos. Yet she didn't plan to stay for long. She didn't feel very comfortable in doing so.

 

[Seras Rose]

The Heir had been a busy young woman for the last few weeks. A celebration did not go without excruciating planning and the higher up you were in noble status and rank, the planning and work was that much larger. Seras Rose knew this in advance but she did not fully appreciate how much work would be involved. Or how many people had questions, things to be arranged and details to be finished. Daunted but not overwhelmed, she took the work upon herself with a calm and patient demeanor, dealing with invitations. Sure she could have easily delegated the work to someone else, but that was not how Seras thought and functioned. She was a person who spent her time doing, working at something or another. This was simply another prime example of that mindset in the young woman.

The tales that were heard on this grand day were a mix of new and old to the young Heir. Of Mythos's own story she had heard, of Darth Carnifex and those other 'greats' she had at least heard rumors of, if not the tales themselves. But it was not only the tales of old that drew her gaze, but those who were here now. The one in black, his figure all but completely masked amongst cloth. A woman stepping forth from a carriage, garbed in spectacular colors of bright gold as the woman who Seras knew not stood and listened. In truth how ever it was not the stories told, the songs sung or even the people here who interested her. It was how the people were and why. For that, Seras did not need to let go of her self and feel the force to know, or even look far. Without trying she could feel the how, and the why. Things were good and as they should be, even if only for this moment. And she had helped make them that way. The young woman allowed a soft smile to take up her calm and composed expression, relaxing for just a moment of still peace. That silent reverie was shortly after broken as Mythos spoke to her, Seras's head turning to face him as he spoke.

"I would have it no other way. It was not fear, anger and hate, nor peace and stillness that brought me here. But through trials and tribulations. Through conquering myself first and all else next." Her thoughts went back to the events that lead up to this point. To Atrisia, where it had all started. "Even so. There is more of myself to overcome. More things to be learned, grasped and taken before the day i stand where you now are. But when that time comes... I shall be ready." When that time would come the young Heir knew not. Only that she would spend all her time and focus being ready for it when it did. She would not let things slip away from her a second time.

When they would both step up to the top of the steps, Seras carried herself appropriately. She would appear wearing a Dark Silver Dress, thoroughly embroidered and lined with a dark blue trim that offset the rest of the color nicely. At her waist was a broad, bright silver belt that shone brightly in the light, stars and moons representing the Nibelungen System gently hanging from it in a neat row. Upon her brow rested a tiara, made out of finely crafted gold and decorated with a speckling of jewels. The only thing that remained on her figure of her normal attire was the eye patch that rested over her now long lost left eye. It was black, with a gold embroidery of a closed eye on it. Her expression was calm and controlled if perhaps a bit thoughtful as she would be beheld and look back upon in return. It was a new and unique sensation, to be sure.

[member="Asteria deWinter"] / [member="Lord Furiel"] / [member="Darth Abyss"] / [member="Mythos"]

 

[Kalyn Tal'verda]

Lyra had arrived on Ankhypt the previous day, she partook in the food and the festivities, much like the rest of the citizens. In order to blend in slightly and also so she wasn't arrested by some bounty hunter who happened to be attending, she grabbed a checkered scarf off of some dead hobo, gave it a good disenfecting scrub, and wore it around her neck. It looked nice on her if she had to say so herself, made her blend in better too. Not taht she was going to be joining the crowd of course, at least not yet. At the moment she had set up a cheap lawn chair and an umbrella on top of some old abandoned house near the square, beside her was a little glass table. On top was a martini with a little umbrella in it. Perfection itself.

Her arrival at the ancient eye was to say the least interesting. Over the past few months she had been payed by the Ancient Eye to assist in EWAR and R&D, and she had taken to the job with leaps and strides. Already doing good work during the recent conquest of Tund. She managed to set off a reactor to blow setting the enemies into a panic. She did almost blow herself up in the process but that did not really matter to her. What did matter was she got to see the big giant fireball that the antimatter reactor caused. Nobody ever said that Lyra had her priorities straight, anyone who did would be fooling themselves.

Lyra had almost no idea what all the religious hullabaloo was about, to her it might as well have been a frat house kegger, she had no idea what any of the religious symbolism meant or what the significance of the god king was or any of that sort of voodoo magic. She was more concerned with the physical here and now, and there was no place for religion in that physical reality, she could not be bothered to keep track of the various prayers and rituals required for religious observance, she was just a simple slicer who made tech for a galactic power. Nothing important about her or her job. She accepted that, so there was no need for religion to fill the void left by her unimportance.

Lyra observed the festival grounds with some macrobinoculars, watching the festivities with great care, she would make her way down to the fairgrounds when the time was right. For now she would just watch, watch quietly from a distance. She had to wait for the right moment to make her entrance or else she might actually have to talk to somebody, that most certainly would ruin her night beyond any reasonable measure. She could not allow that.

[member="Seras Rose"] / [member="Lady Kay"] / [member="Lord Furiel"] / [member="Darth Abyss"] / [member="Asteria deWinter"] / [member="Mythos"]

 

[Mara Rockwell]

Mara was sober—or as close to it as she wanted to be. Her golden dress moved with every step, hugging her body tightly and accentuating her every curve. The color glittered and caught the eye, contrasting perfectly with her blue skin and drawing further attention to her barely clad form. Along with the dress, all of her piercings were sporting glittering jewelry; nose, both ear sets, and her lip. This was whatever-name-he-was-claiming’s big day. When they had met the first time during one of her all night party hoots, he had called himself Durin, but given that everyone here was calling him something entirely different—Gokin?—she didn’t even know any more what to think of him. But he was nice enough, and she hadn’t met any nice guys in quite a while.

She looked at her expensive watch that she had stolen/borrowed a few planets back. She couldn’t even remember what the drunk lady was that she had slipped it off of. Banker? Lawyer? It didn’t matter now. She spat out a curse. There was no way she was going to make it there in time at this rate. Her pumps certainly couldn’t stand a running, and she didn’t have the cash for a cab fare right now. She sighed, looking around. Every time this simulated reality threw a problem at you, it gave you a hidden solution. Her eyes lighted on a speeder parked not too far away. Its spotless red paintjob was just calling out to her to borrow it and definitely not put it back where she found it.

The woman scurried over and plucked a few tools from her clutch. She had been hotwiring speeders since she was skipping junior high, it was all in the wrists. The hotrod roared to life and Mara gave a giggle of delight as she shifted it into gear and tore down the road. The reality slid by her in a spice-induced haze the speed didn’t help. She was going way too fast for the speed limit, let alone for her own safety. At last she screeched to a halt at the road block, just past it the crowds were already gathered in a dense fog to see and hear what this Durin Gokin had to say.

Through the crowd of people she weaved like a viper through the jungle. Some moved out of her way willingly, some had to be shoved. Eventually she ended up closer to the front than the back. She wondered if he would feel her. Folks like him had somehow found a way to hack through this simulated reality and warp its base code to their needs. Some could do amazing things, like lift entire buildings or run at speeds that were unparalleled.

All she could do is hope he could hear her.

“Hey, Mister Gokin, sir!” She shouted jumping up, “Mister Gokin! Its me! Durin! Its Mara. Mara Rockwell!”

[member="Lyra Sarn"] I [member="Seras Rose"] I [member="Lady Kay"] I [member="Lord Furiel"] I [member="Darth Abyss"] I [member="Mythos"]​

 

[Mythos]

PALACE OF MYTHOS

Magnus Ceremony

Part 1: Ascension.

The cups were raised and not only drink and ale but wine was abound, now was the time to raise the cups not only for the ceremony but for the Gods of Ankhypt so that they would bless this momentous occasion with their power. Mythos stood at the bottom of the Pyramid next to [member="Seras Rose"] as she spoke to him, she looked more than dashing, she looked proper and royal in her attire, more than fitting for one who was to be the heir of everything that she would see from above the pyramid. The chanting began, his name shouted from the rooftops as the Magnus Battlecruiser flew low enough for the people to admire it's size and powerful weaponry. A celebratory salvo of it's guns into the distance, carefully calculated to land on safe and harmless ground miles and miles away. Mythos wore a single communication piece in his ear, even now surrounded by the shouts of a hundred thousand screaming people he could hear his security forces speaking. Asteria was here and she had come flaring her gold as he knew she would, [member="Lord Furiel"] had brought a gift to the bottom of his pyramid and [member="Lady Kay"] sunk behind the crowd of people protected by both Ancient Eye forces and her own force as well as her flotilla in space. He smiled at that, Kay was taking the measures she needed to travel this far into wild space so that her power was not only felt and seen but effective in her protection and the protection of those who were under her employ. She may have sunk her force signature to the size of a tree seed but Mythos could tell the nature of that signature anywhere even if i was hard to locate. She was here and she was watching.

One telepathic message was sent to the queen of Commenor. "Welcome Kay" His eyes searched the crowd, over the heads of the screaming fanatics. "There is a seat for you up here if you would want it"

His eyes turned to Seras, his heir, his and the Ancient Eye's future and the most important person here... it was not Mythos, this was the foundation that he was building for her, when the time came and when the Eye was completed...

When her sword was drenched in his blood... as such was the Sith way... She would rule.... and not a moment sooner.

"You will do well Seras, You will be greater than I or any in the history of the Galaxy. After this is all over you will study Empress Ashin Varin and her legacy, afterwords you will study the works of Darth Pyrrhus and Exar Kun. I expect a full report in three days time. Now we ascend, this is not my legacy, this is the foundation of yours."

It was time now and Mythos began to take his first strides up the pyramid inlaid of gold. "Stay by my side and pay attention. Hear my words for they apply to you as well. Learn that many can fight with weapons but few can battle with words." He said, Echoing the words of Lord Furiel during his meeting with Lady Kay all those years ago in Atrisia. As he began to take his first steps something in the force nagged at him, a sense to look again at the crowd.

Blue is not a color you see every day, not here in wild space at least. This is not Csilla, so when [member="Mara Rockwell"] called out his name from the crowd, just like she caught his eye in the cantina of Commenor she also caught his eye here, that was something she alone in all the galaxy had the power to do. Suddenly Mythos got tunnel vision and the entire world and it's people vanished as only Mara stood there waving at him. Composed he sent three hand signals and the crowd was parted to let her through directly the bottom of the pyramid where behind all the esteemed guests, nobles, royalty, priests and warriors were gathered to witness the ascension first hand. Sadly he could not at this time exchange words with her but the time would come when he could and he would explain why he called himself Durin, why he spoke to her as he did and why he wanted her here in The Ancient Eye. For now, one simple sentence would have to do for her, a telepathic one due to the distance. "Wait here for me until i return."

With a gesture to Seras he began to rise the golden steps while every single step he took brought forth a focused thump from the crowd that grew louder and louder until the ground itself began to shake when he neared the top of the palace and looked down upon the masses.

There on top of the Pyramid before the hundreds of thousands in attendance and the trillions watching from around the galaxy as this occasion was broadcasted across the holonet for all to be a part of he raised his Rudis high and the reaction of the crowd was a scream that deafened the recorders and holo-audio of every reporter in a mile radius. It was a sight of ancient wonder, reminiscent of the empires that time had forgotten and history remembered with glory.

One particular news agency was given special passes and access to the event and even allowed to interview high ranking officials of The Ancient Eye in exclusives: Intel Wars.

Mythos let the crowds chant, he let them scream and raise glasses and cups with cheer and victory, the celebration of a new time and a new day had arrived. He would not speak until they had their moment, this was the moment of the people to voice their joy and cheer in what had just transpired. Power had arrived in Wild Space and it was going to change everything. When the screaming and chanting died down Mythos smiled and used the force to boom his voice.

"People of Ankhypt! Of Angramar! Of Edemar! Of Nibelungen! The Gods have finally sent their light upon our worlds!"

The reaction was loud and thunderous, the ground shook and the sand kicked up with the power of the thousands. This was only the beginning.
[member="Mara Rockwell"] [member="Lyra Sarn"] [member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Asteria deWinter"]​

 

[Virak Ip]

While it might have been fitting to describe Lady Kay as looking splendent in her dress, Virak could not be graced with such a compliment. Scruffy and crude, the Zabrak was clad in his common outfit of worn-looking breastplate and tattered looking, crimson cloak that hung from one shoulder. At his waist was a large blade, sheathed in a rich leather - the only cared for aspect of his outfit, that his hand was never far from. At his side, his free hand, his cybernetic hand, clenched and unclenched with the sound of metal grating across metal as weariness and anxiety thrummed through his bones as if charges of lightning. His amber gaze constantly flickered from person to person, glaring at any who dared to draw close to Kay as he stood to the side-and-slightly-behind of her. Within the realm of the Force, he was constantly feasting upon the Dark that surrounded the crowd, drawing upon a steady supply of power as he expanded his Presence, choosing to buck the instinct to occlude it, so that it wrapped around Kay's shoulders like a veil, serving to aid in minimising the echoes of her own Presence within the Force.

Snarling at another member of the crushing crowds drew too close to Kay for his liking, his pointed and blood-stained teeth serving well enough in driving them away to the point he did not need to silently draw his blade from its sheath a few centimeters as he had had to do so for a few more arrogant and boisterous people. Letting the flicker of anger fade from his features, resetting back to a neutral and stoic appearance, Virak leaned down to whisper to Kay, his voice a murmur so as to be heard above the roars of the crowd. "Remind me, why must you attend such an event? All it is is a chance for one man's ego to inflate more than it already has, for him to luxuriate in a title meaningless but for the zealotry it inspires. Could you not have humoured his arrogance from a distance and over a holochannel?"

Snorting softly before he could receive a response, Virak straightened up to glare at Mythos, having felt him reach out through the Force to speak directly into the mind of Kay. Reaching out with his own mind, the Zabrak waited until Mythos had ceased his moment of speaking, ignoring the sudden increase in noise and roars around him as the crowd was whipped up into a frenzy not unlike a mob, before lashing out with a probe of his own, latching onto the mind of the self-proclaimed God-King - a title that Virak was sure was the most arrogant one he had ever heard - and speaking to him just as he had spoken to Kay.

"Do not presume yourself above standard decency, Aminus. Touch the mind of my Lady once more and the Wolf shall overtake my new persona." Should Mythos choose to look towards the mind that had spoken, he would find one similar to that of Darth Lykos, find a shade of the Sith Assassin lingering within the mind of Virak Ip after the Sith had died and a portion of his soul had been trapped within the mind of the rogue-soul shard that had broken free of the phylactery that had served as its prison to forge a new life among the Commenor System Alliance with the aid of Lady Kay.

Snarl still twisted and firmly affixed to his lips and gaze still resolute on the God-King, Virak spoke to Kay once more, his voice raised as he sought to speak above the sound of the crowds jubilation. "Must we stay here long, My Lady? Such self-indulgence tastes foul upon my tongue." As he did so, he attempted to wrap his Presence within the Force all the firmer around Kay's determined to do a better job of occluding her from the Sights of others.


[member="Lady Kay"] | [member="Mythos"]

 

[Ras'kala'han]

"People of Ankhypt! Of Angramar! Of Edemar! Of Nibelungen! The Gods have finally sent their light upon our worlds!"​

​

Gods. Among the crowd, one of the few remaining silent was an acolyte on the edge, clad in the raiment of Ankhypt's priestly caste. White linen wrapped around the skin, and small devotional ornaments hung from the tunic. His eyes were cold, blue, and he regarded the celebration sternly, an offertory bowl of wine intermingled with flowers in his hands. As the people roared, he and his acolytes raised them up to their God-King, and spoke a word of blessing. This was to be done several times over, as rehearsed, and if possible Antherion liked it less now than he had then. The inconvenience and misery had done little to soften the blow of being forced by circumstance to bow, yet again.

"Long live the God-King." He whispered bitterly, having heard much and more of this before. The promise of a new horizon, of power, of revelation - and the more he heard them from many conflicting sources, the less he believed any of them. It struck him as false, this notion of powerful and aloof beings watching over from above. Gods. No, there was no faith in this priest. The closest thing he saw to any God was a high-towering king.

Once, he believed in Gods, for the hope that he might become one. After so much was stripped away from him, he seemed to once again be climbing, once again have a chance to rise forth and reclaim what power he had lost to carbonite, to injury, to a million causes. No, rather fate was waiting for him to, for the first time in what felt like millennia, step forwards to take yet more from him. Now, he was at the absolute trough of his ability.

Yet there was something he saw here: the promise of power. The promise he might yet rise up again. That lured him back, time and again, from the edge of despair and death. This hope, that was worth praying for. That he might once again be brought back into mastery, and then look down from the pyramid instead of up into the daylight.

That light, he hoped, might yet reach him.

| [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Lady Kay"] | [member="Virak Ip"] | [member="Mythos"] | [member="Seras Rose"] | [member="Lyra Sarn"] | [member="Lord Furiel"] |[member="Asteria deWinter"] |​

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​ANKHYPT
​-----------
Palace Entrance
​With: ​That stuck up Confederate Lady

​He was late, and thankfully so was she. The Valkyrie had docked mere moments ago as the Matador emerged from its landing pad with some haste in his step, however he was thankful to find that [member="Srina Talon"] had yet to arrive either. Perhaps she had been delayed as he had, or declined the invitation? He understood that following the less than welcoming response she had received from him regarding her trip to Nibelungen, she might have been inclined not to join him. However he'd hoped that she would come, he'd been tasked by [member="Mythos"] to invite a confederate for that exact reason. To show some, form of tolerance on his behalf.

​'Srina Talon, you have been cordially invited to the Coronation of Mythos Amul by Chieftain Matador. Please arrive at Docking Bay 06, Ankhypt. - May the Gods blessings be upon you.'

​As reluctantly as he had accepted, he did all the same. Srina had known him some time ago, before so much had changed. He was almost a different being now, he'd been reborn; freed from the confines of the mentality of a weapon. He had grown so much stronger, yet she had seemed to shift places yet remained stagnant, of course she appeared more confident and in entirely better circumstances. But something about the way she held herself, the wretched stench of compensation hung on her like death on a wounded animal. Perhaps there was a reason for it.

​Perhaps also one for her lateness, he had been delayed a incursion on Caradim during one of the Gladiatorial battles. The Hand of Light grew bolder with every passing day. Soon, they would need to be silenced. He'd managed to clean the blood from his armour, but the blaster scoring was still fresh, as were the wounds. However none of which were apparent, he left his weaponry aboard the Valkyrie. Now, the giant stood almost directionless as red spectacles observed the docking bay.

​He was inclined to believe he'd be arriving to the Monarchs Coronation alone.

 

[Judas of Vahl]

Judas had arrived.

Very few were aware of his existence, but those that did knew his soul was more aloof than any other in the void above. Old acquaintances had beckoned for his arrival on this momentous occasion, chiefly those that had battled alongside and against him during the Atrisian conflict. Reliability was not one of Judas's best traits though the man did his best to keep his word - if he ever gave it at all.

The raven-haired man watched from below. He was simply one of the masses today, one of the commoner folk that gazed verily as their newest pantheon of demigods seemingly ascended into the next tier of life. Priests and warlords advanced their careers and legend at the cost of thousands and the peasantry did nothing but beg for the chance to be a mere fibre of the next galactic event. Billions upon billions of nameless faces, and one could never know all of their names or what they desired in life.

They were nothing. Just as he was.

 

[Kay-Larr]

Kay knew what [member="Virak Ip"] was getting at. Yes, there was plenty of arrogance here. She knew that it was just a spectacle and something that was only what could be described as [member="Mythos"] ' way. To go big or go home seemed to be the way that he operated. Showing off was one of his greatest skills of which he was a Master. 'Silver Tongue' was her nickname for him, as he had a way of charming nearly everyone into giving him what he wanted. Well, almost everything. Kay had always turned him down when it came to sleeping with him. He just wasn't her type. So instead she gained a valuable friend in him, a protector of both herself and her realm. "I'm sorry, but I had to be here. It's my responsibility to do so."

And them Mythos entered her mind. Somehow he had found her. Kay glanced about, taking note of some of Mythos' guards had taken positions near her own. So that was it. Word of mouth had spread fast. ~Thank you, Mythos, but this is your celebration, not mine. And there is a very large crowd here that look quite comfortable with where they are.~ Going up to the platform with other seemingly high profile dignitaries could become a public relations nightmare. And she didn't need that with some governments just looking for excuses to attack her people.

Again Virak spoke, almost with an urgency to his voice. Yet the manner in which he stood and looked to others gave her quite the impression that he was worried for her safety. "We'll leave when it is over. It...shouldn't be long." But Kay was only guessing at that point.

[member="The Matador"] [member="Judas Foster"] [member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Seras Rose"] [member="Lyra"] Starn [member="Lord Furiel"] [member="Asteria deWinter"] [member="Antherion"]

 

[Kiso]

Location: Base of the Pyrmid
Objective: Don't go deaf

Kiso was not sure how she felt about such a celebration, not that she did not think [member="Mythos"] the praise and just celebration, though she did think the title of god king was a slight over stretch. Though not being force sensitive in anyway her old mentor ad giving thoughtful incite into the living force and how in work, itself the real co called god of the galaxy, granting lowly mortals the ability to perform unnatural feet, in a way the Sith Lord was more an all powerful prophet of sorts then an actual god, but there was more to it.

The presence of people like [member="Darth Abyss"] and more notably [member="Asteria deWinter"] made the Atrisian glare a little, more so about the battle of her home world and past wars and the one Sith. Though being a mercenary much of her life the she would never have been forced into such a situation if not for the deadly galactic war from years ago, even if it was long in the past the pain of losing family and others was ever present. Then again it was not like she had a choice in the matter, the Shrouded Republic needed allies, the Ancient Eye and their fanatic religions like force user sect and odd aliens races somehow winding up being it.

'Freinds today enemies tomorrow, seem that saying works both ways', the cyborg general gave a small sight before feeling a hand claps against her shoulder, "Don't be so moody K', drink up and be happy, at lest you didn't die to the kamikaze pilot you told me about when asking how you became a cybernetic person". Kiso gazed at the blonde haired woman for a second before accepting the drink offered to her, "Yer I guess your right, for all I know I could be working for the Sith empire, and if my teacher as her she would just encourage me to stay with the SR as is, thanks Jess.... by the way where has Markus gone off to? "I don't know, probably flirting with women, pick pocketing, I'm not his baby sitter, don't woory their is not much he could do, just sit back and enjoy yourself, alright".

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: ANKHYPT [Palace Entrance]
In the Company Of: [member="The Matador"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Mythos"] | [member="Seras Rose"]
Wearing: White
Intent: Confederate Representation for the Crowning of Mythos

Since joining the Confederacy Srina had been required to attend a great many soirees either with her Master or in his stead. This was not her first Coronation. Not so long ago she had arrived in the pristine, militaristic halls that belong to the Sovereignty, in order to show support for Varik Ice. At the time she had considered such an affair superfluous, extravagant, and unnecessarily complicated. That gathering, compared to the gilded, nearly glowing, golden spectacles that the Ancient Eye had to offer made the aforementioned event seem like that of a paupers nest.

The Ferocity had lingered in the skies of Ankhypt for quite some time. It was obvious that there were festivities and merrymaking going on in the streets below, and in the areas surrounding the Palace of Mythos, but the elegant Echani had not yet given the order to dock. Instead, she observed through a transparisteel viewport, while Confederate attendant droids saw to her attire. Darth Metus was also aboard the assault frigate but he was tending to his contingent of overly concerned Viceroys.

They had some concerns about their Vicelord once again entering territory that belonged to the Ancient Eye without a full protection detail. Srina could only shake her head at their insecurities. Perhaps they did not know the meaning of the word ally, or perhaps, they did not realize that the Sith Lord was not one of their powdered and polished constituents. He could take care of himself.

To that extent, so could she.

The snow-kissed Sith Apprentice stared at her reflection in the looking glass, feeling a little overdressed in a very finely decorated, ivory ensemble. It was formal and despite gossamer fabric giving the appearance of being feather-light the array of precious diamonds actually made it feel quite heavy. It held to her slight frame, seeming to fall around her form like liquid, and silvery eyes flickered to the droids that were busy fussing over her hair. It was simple by comparison, white locks pulled up into an elegant coif, with long curling tendrils framing her face.

“Is all of this entirely necessary?”

The attendant droids paused, all at once, seeming terribly confused by her question.

“Lady Talon, you must understand—”

“It IS a Coronation—“

“You wouldn’t want to insult our hosts—“

“Would you?”

Srina closed her eyes for a moment, before she exhaled slowly, and called for the Ferocity to make its way down to Docking Bay 06. She despised these events. While she understood the need to boost morale, and to provide the people with something to look forward to, this was extreme. It was a waste of resources. Nevertheless, they were not her assets that were being poured down the drain. She was only required to arrive, smile, and congratulate the appropriate party.

Her invitation had been both surprising and predictable from a political standpoint. The former mercenary, the Chieftain of the Ancient Eye, seemed to hold some sort of distaste for her person. He was not the person she had once known. As the ramp to the assault frigate came down the Echani seemed to float, versus walk, ethereal in all things.

It would not be evident on her classically lovely features that she already missed her lightsaber and practical footwear.

“Chieftain.”, she murmured, as the BX-Battle droids remained at attention, while also not stepping foot from the starship. Her voice was soft, light, filled with buoyancy and gentleness. The innate sense of authority in her tone would be nigh impossible to ignore. “Please forgive our late arrival. Preparation for upcoming ventures and political differences have skewed our timetable. Darth Metus will join the festivities when he finishes conferencing with our Viceroys.”

In most situations, she would have taken the arm of the person escorting her, as was custom for most cultures, but in this instance, she refrained. Srina recalled, vividly, how much The Matador detested anyone breaching his personal space. Even to help with a grievous wound. Instead, she paid proper respect and gracefully inclined her head.

The Chieftain was clad in armor. Her eyes, as always, were too perceptive. Did she truly see signs of a recent skirmish? For the time being, she put those thoughts on a high shelf, and instead waited for her host to take the lead. This was his world, his people. Not her own.

“Shall we?”

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

ANKHYPT
​-----------
Palace Entrance -> Palace Quarters
​With: ​[member="Srina Talon"]

​The Matador had stood for what felt like tremendously far too long, having been notified of the Confederacy ships arrival; however the ship remained in the skies of Ankhypt for quite sometime. Forcing the Matador to lounge for longer than he'd like, watching as those adorned in robes and fashionable golds and velvets ran past, hurrying to the festival. He hoped the Monarch would not mistake lateness for neglect nor disrespect. He fully intended on arriving, in Ankyptian form.

​His patience was quite finite, but still he lingered waiting the arrival of his guest. His temper was almost guaranteed to carry him off his feet and towards the Coronation, however as if on cue; the Confederate Lady arrived. The landing pad extended as a series of droids moved out from within the ship. For a singular moment, the blood in his gut flared and his fist twitched; half expecting a feral rage to be justified in mere moments. Instead, the droids stood at attention; immobile as a lady in luxurious white stepped down from the ship and onto the golden plateau that was the area in which landing had been arranged.

​The Matador stirred like a panther watching a zebra, eyes flickering over the bejewelled appearance of Srina Talon as she drew a little closer; and instinctively his feet carried him cautiously closer. The cloth that hung so tightly to her body came in shades of aquamarine and faded silvers to the eyes of the Matador, his feral eyes dancing across the pulsing red heat that made up the complexion of the young Echani. Echani always appeared a little less warm​, colder than most with a faded tint of maroon detailing her miniscule body. He was almost able to make out all of her features. Still the mind stirred but the Giant remained unmoved.

​Her mouth moved little and what came out was but a indistinct greeting lacking any of the flair of their previous meeting. The Matador hardly considered himself perceptive, but it screamed of a discontent subdued in niceties as she spoke once more; her form returning with a more gallant approach, her words exuding the confidence of a Confederate women. It was amusing.

​"Don't worry Miss Talon, I myself am also late. There will be less scrutiny if we arrive soon however."

​His words as always, came out with tone of indifference but with a flavour of intention to be sociable as he lingered on the syllable of the last word; a low grovelling murmur of pronunciation tangled with a sigh as he turned on his heel, taking Miss Talon's nod and final comment to imply he was to take lead. Just beyond where he had been waiting was a small upward stairway, blazing with the beating sun that hung in the sky, casting the shadow of the Giant back on the lady as his feet kept him a step or two ahead of her until they reached the top. He stopped, turning to wait for her as a rather large shuttle craft arrived; Mythos' area of celebration was visible in the distance.

​The Shuttle car was made of glass and long thin strands of gold and deep khaki padded seating and driven by a golden service droid no less. It was no doubt true that the Monarch had chosen for them to travel from here to absorb the spectacle​ that was Ankhypt. The Palace opened up, like a luxurious maze. Mythos delighted in the use of scenic routes. ​"I have never been to Ankhypt before." ​She likely expected a comment on its beauty or magnificence, yet he saw only shades of heat and cold. The scenery was lost on the giant.

​With a wave of his wrist the automatic private shuttles doors opened, the Matador stopped awaiting Miss Talon to enter first. ​"You must excuse me, there will be a slight detour before we arrive. The Monarch has requested I arrive in more, diplomatic garb." ​The Monarch was, in many ways a visionary. Yet, he delighted in the glorification of it rather than its true benefits. Yet, he was the Monarch; and the Matador was simply a hammer to be used when necessary. Thus he did his bidding, regardless of the irregularity of this particular task.

​"I've been informed Mythos has prepared quarters for guests if necessary, apparently mine are." ​The words came out like a child uninspired by the foolish actions of a parent, his head turning away to observe the view as he reclined into a seat on the opposite end of the small shuttle.

​As the shuttle began to move, the Matadors gaze shifted to Miss Talon for a few moments. ​"Do I seem, different to you?"

 

[Asteria deWinter]

The crowd vast, the cheering loud. They all had their gods, one way or another, something could be worshipped because of the way minds worked. Weaker the minder, the easier it was to name an invisible force and give it name. Yet, if the gods are given face, are they more real or are they weaker in their human flesh? Lady Asteria wondered as she watched the God-King ascend up the pyramid. He'd died once, she'd heard, yet here he was, rising up the pyramid looking quite alive. Fascinating. He wasn't the first one, not by any means. Asteria could still recall the day she had felt her Father die, so young then then. Yet, he too had returned. Asteria had long known it was possible though returns here possible though it had been long since she'd thought of it until now, her emerald gaze shifting from the massive pyramid as a scrivle of emotion crept into her icy heart.

"People of Ankhypt! Of Angramar! Of Edemar! Of Nibelungen! The Gods have finally sent their light upon our worlds!"​

The booming voice returned her to the present, her eyes moving to look to the heights ahead as the crowd began to cheer and the ground beneath began to shake, making lady deWinter looked around herself at the reacting mortals. How joyious they seemed, how loud they were. Yet, the woman in gold, remained still as she observed. There was no sound from her lips and no movement of her lips. Only her eyes observing and her ears listening. Perhaps if it was not for the gold she wore, she could completely blend in, quiet and still in her movements. One could assume a great many things about Lady deWinter if they so choose but she paid little attention to public displays. They were unnecessary and had no true purpose. Those around her needn't have known that she didn't mind being on Ankhypt, nor that she did not mind watching the ascension of a once fellow One Sith. On the conterary. She quite enjoyed the sight of the planet she was on, as well as its architecture. And this God-King, Mythos was becoming, it made her curious to what it was they had discovered, what they had found buried in the darkness for this was a religion she had not heard Not before the Gugag Plague and certainly not before now.

[member="Mythos"] [member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Lord Furiel"] [member="Lady Kay"] [member="Seras Rose"] [member="Lyra Sarn"] [member="Mara Rockwell"] [member="Virak Ip"] [member="Antherion"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Judas Foster"] [member="Kiso"] [member="Srina Talon"]​

 

[4ND-R0]

New transports arrived down to Ankhypt's surfsce near the palace. They were a vague assortment of styles, some even what most called "Uglies". What united them though were similar patterns of shamanistic artwork and a circular symbol. A large gathering of men and women departed from these ships, numbering close to 400 strong. They were barked into formation by a larger man among them, astride a black stallion. Like most of his underlings, he sppeared like an Atrisian with broader features.

Nearly all of this procession were dressed in light robes that were trsdutional. Browns, reds, blues and whites with geometric patterns. They marched orderly to the gates, lead by their enigmatic leader.

Upon reaching the gates, the retinue was halted by dutiful Anubian guards. The horseman dismounted from his black steed, approaching the guardsmen. He procured an invitation from his lightly furred robes.

"Tell your masters..." The man spoke in an accented Basic, "That Temujin Khaan and 400 of the Eternal Horde's finest have arrived. Per invitation."

Despite the expectation of a barbaric brute in the Khaan, he seemed to have an air of decency and civility. He turned to those assembled with him.

"Remember this. We are but guests here. Do not bring dishonor to us." He said warningly to his accompaniment, stroking the lightsaber like hilt on his belt, "For you shall answer to me."

[member="Mythos"] | [member="Asteria deWinter"] | [member="Seras Rose"] | [member="The Matador"]​

 

[Thraxis]

There was a saying in life. You couldn't escape reality. And damnit, Thraxis tried. He tried so very hard, he thought paradise had found him, a small, unknown planet, in an unknown system away from the unknown threats of the universe. But he was an accursed soul, forever destined to dance this dance of self-destruction, but hell, he wasn't special for dancing it, everyone danced that same dance, a light hovering overhead, the sound of a thousand steps in rhythm with each other in some strange metronome of chaos, the only difference was.... Well. That's just it, there wasn't any, no matter the insight everyone was in it for themselves. He was. Everyone here was. And everything in between was here for personal gain.

But hell who needs the opening monologue. What matters, is how did Thraxis get involved in this, from the Throne of Dar'Manda that was in all rights nothing more than a death world polluted with an almost necrotic touch of the Dark Side how did he get involved? Well, where do all good stories start? No not a Once upon a- No damnit he ain't a prince- Okay you cut it out you don't know a good story opener shut up, read, sit down. Good? Ready to read. Wonderful, Once upo- Damnit ya got me doing it.

In a seedy bar. Damn straight. That is where this all took place...

The air was swollen and ripe with the taint of booze, drugs and the thick perfume that rolled off the waiter's flesh like a bloated river, as they walked around serving the liquid death to all the vagrants that wondered. It was a strange sight to Thraxis, it was.... well, not so much quaint as it was a throwback. He couldn't pin it though, this was a seedy bar, it WAS a seedy bar and there was little to tell otherwise, the broken down spirits of the waiters, the way the barkeep washed the glasses with bloody spittle and the cards that were tossed around almost as much as the stray shot of red light through another's skull. But it had a certain, allure to it. Floors made of solid sand, glasses with strange insignia and the columns that pervaded where walls should have been, letting the clouds of grot and stench roll freely out of the bar as fresh air always placated those who sat around in it. But there was always a pocket, no matter how hard to find where the stench rolled, and rolled, and rolled. And that's, where a man clad in black sat, rolling the back of the chair in a pendulous swing as canister after the canister was placed before him and a dozen Dark Side tainted credits was tossed to the barmaid.

An insignia and a marking of claw and scratches covering he pectorals of his armour. On his left, the Jackals, a halfway skull half way cowl mixed with the ink of stained blood. And the other, the old Cartel, a failed conglomerate of beating a dead horse. Thraxis was loyal to his bone, but after the years, the goddamn years of watching the cartel explode, tear itself apart and overall be an intolerable cesspool of grief and overexohrbent effort had finally laid it to bed through days of toil and pain as his nails were ripped from existence and his flesh laid flayed as he got rid of the painting. Sure he could have used paint remover, but hell, he was a man of class, action and obvious metaphors. But the last was his marking and time itself was not to tear that away, even if thirty years had passed. At least, in his world of reality. The dark side of the force shifted him. Made time advance faster than he expected or made his concept fragile at best. Either way, thirty years had passed to him, and that brought all the worry when a familiar face was seen on his 'old' comm unit.

"M.... Mythos? Is that him? Bugger doesn't look like he has aged a day. Lucky prick must've gotten immortality from all that force." He grumbled, he peeled himself off the seat, the stench of booze shifting with him as a leg of his chair snapped, splinters bent and bound in mark poxed Phrik. As his armour peeled a query was brought up, "Was he even a force user?" He said, his mind drifted off and thought made vocal as he looked dead straight at one of the waiters, a curious look is given with a shrug and a disgruntled "Uhhh...." Thraxis shrugged, pooling a pouch of credits into a cup and patting him on the back, uninterested in what he had to say, not thinking it to be relevant no matter what it was.

I might be a hundred years older. Can I even still gatecrash a party? That always seemed for the hipper generation. What do you think mate? He imagined himself inquiring to some strange man, someone to give him guidance, some mythical figure to lead him. Maybe Cadan. He never seemed like a wise guy to follow. And Thraxis was never a smart man. But the blue-hued nasally challenged drug addict was nowhere to be found. Well, around him. Maybe in a ditch. But that was beside the point, he emerged from the sandstone bar, the stench of death, darkness and drunkness permeated around him as he began a fanciful watch, following a compass in his Comm that pointed north, and if ya headed northeast enough he was bound to find his way. Lucky for him, the mistress luck was watching him and sent him in the general right way. Mainly through breaking his compass and making his head south instead of the daft direction of north.

But in time, frugality had forgotten him, the Jackals few investments still stood and credit was apparently a given. Apparently, for all, he knew a few billion credits was as valuable as a pound of dirt and three scoops of sugar. Or he miscounted the zeroes. School was never his... He didn't go to school. He pulled from the marketplace as he wandered, celebrations rife as he raised hands with a cup of booze and a small Spyglass in hand, he waded through the crowd, the occasional cheer followed with a "Wahey!" As the kingpin of booze slipped and slid, spyglass in hand as he snatched and snipped the drinks with the guile of a cat as he came into the midst of the crowd, his body stumbling with all the tact a body filled with poison could muster, but in this crowd? Hell, he might have just looked like some dude dropped in some fancy clothes and enjoying himself. But he was here to see the one and only, the man who had apparently survived the past three years since he had left, slipping out his spyglass he pulled it to his eye, or at least, the mask part of his eye, drawing his gaze through the crowd, sweeping left to right before reaching a full three sixty degrees, looking right behind him as an odd yet familiar figure had managed to make it through the millennia. [member="Darth Abyss"]. The fact he had managed to somehow still kick it made sense, if anything could make it through time unhindered it would be a being who didn't seem to really exist. He propped a hand up, waving to the old... College? Friend? Acquaintance. Somewhere between all that. He jumped up a couple times, he seemed... Distance, yet no one stood between them. Strange, normally Spyglasses worked, but this one seemed to be on the fritz as if it was held backwards. But surely he wasn't so enamoured and hammered that he had managed to stand directly in front of Abyss by accident. Right?