Faction New Blood // Inaugural Trials

[Darth Caedes]

The red sun of Horuset hangs low over Korriban's jagged mountains, casting long shadows across the stone structures of Kor'ethyr Academy. The air is cold, biting at the skin, despite the barren desert landscape stretching endlessly beyond Academy walls. Today, the halls are alive with anticipation—a day of trials, where only the strongest and most cunning will garner the attention of Academy Masters. The normally oppressive silence of the desert is broken today by the coordinated howls of Sithspawn Tuk'ata, echoing distorted through wind-tossed gusts of sandy air.

Students gather within the Academy, their dark robes flowing as they pass beneath the towering statues of long-dead Sith Lords. Overseers and Masters watch from the upper balconies of Kor'ethyr towers, searching for those students with undeniable talent. Today, blood will be spilled, both in combat and in the hunt, and minds will be tested. These trials are not merely to be survived—they are a crucible. Today, those who emerge victoriously distinguish themselves from within the ranks of the Sith.​

​

Welcome to the desert hunt, students. Beyond Kor'ethyr lies the Desert of Golg, an expanse as treacherous as it is vast. There, in the chilly sands beneath Horuset’s red glare, the Academy’s finest Tuk'ata await you—fierce, swift, clever, and deadly. Your task? Track them. Hunt them. And know that they are hunting you. Return with proof of your kills, but remember: you’re not the only one chasing them. Other students will be hot on your trail, and the sands hide more than Tuk'ata. Sinkholes, sandstorms, the undead and worse await you there. Failure means death. Success? Power and respect. Now, go—and may the Force guide your hand.​

Line up, students. Today, you will face one another; not with lightsabers, but with something... more traditional. These bone-carved swords are covered with the microscopic barbs of pelko bugs, and one cut will fill your veins with an immobilizing, searing agony. The toxin won’t kill you, but it will cause unforgettable pain—the kind you must learn to use and inflict upon our enemies. Each of you will be paired with an opponent. Academy Battlemasters, Darth Thaliax and Aspirant Kyraj, watch closely; neither has any interest in mercy or hesitation. Strike hard, strike fast, but remember: this is more than just survival. Prove the superiority of your technique or be left writhing in the dirt.​

Not all trials are fought with blades, students. Before you, on each of your workstations, are six vials of liquid in a set of three pairs. Any two of a pair may appear identical, though in fact one of each is an agonizing poison or debilitating intoxicant. Whispering rumors work their way through your peers, suggesting that one of the vials may even be lethal. Regardless—three are poisoned, three are safe to drink—and you have limited time to determine which is which. You may seek to render the poisons inert or divine the qualities of each vial's contents; or you may find some other solution entirely. You have access to all library and laboratory resources, including the greenhouse. Will you choose the correct three? Will you solve the trial in a unique way? Will you complete the challenge and drink the three vials? Knowledge is power, student, and ignorance is pain.​

Everything You Need To Get Started:

• OOC Coordination Thread [New Blood // Inaugural Trials OOC]
• Kor'ethyr Academy [General Overview Document]
• Kor'ethyr Academy [Codex Submission]
• Academy Introduction [LFG Thread]

 

[Zal Aditi]

​

Desert of Golg
Korriban
Valley of Golg
High Noon
[image source: Star Wars: Invasion #2] (edits by me)
​

Zal dug the steel claw of her boot tip into the stone of the great and ancient statue's head as she surveyed the land around her. Perched atop one of several towering forms that loomed over the Valley of Golg, she had a perfect view of the desert. Her golden eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun as she gazed towards the Academy in the distance.

Moments from now, the new flush of students would be released to prove their worth in the hunting grounds. Her Tuk'ata prowled the sands, some here in the shadowed and crumbling ruins of the valley pass, others in the dunes, still more lurking in the jagged, rocky outcroppings at the foot of the mountain. They were hungry for the blood they knew was to come. She smirked. The arrogance of the young Sith would not last long in the face of her packs.

The Tuk'ata of Korriban were not to be underestimated. The largest were as much as 3 meters high at the shoulder, though the younger ones were closer to chest-high for the average humanoid. These highly intelligent beasts fed on the dark energies of the force Nexus that lay beneath the Valley of Golg, but this abundance of nourishment did not sate their hunger - it had only made them stronger and more voracious.

Their spines and vicious claws were no less dangerous than their rows of razor-sharp teeth. Faced with such a threat, the unwary might overlook the whip-like tail with its poisonous stinger until it was too late. Cunning and surprisingly fast for their size, the tuk'ata hunted in pairs and communicated with their packs through a telepathic bond. The students would need to be watchful for ambush tactics, and keep their senses keen to be able to spot the stealthy monstrosities.

These ancestral guardians of Korriban's tombs had kept the secrets of the Sith safe even during the Ashlan occupation. They were the embodiment of what it meant to truly serve the Sith - loyal, savage, and sly. It was only appropriate that they test those who would seek to become their masters... though only the most powerful would ever truly earn their respect, or their obedience.

Even without the Tuk'ata, the Desert of Golg was perilous in its own right. Sink holes lay hidden in the blood red sands, as did Jen'ari. Wraids and K'lor'slug nests nestled between the rocks... simple challenges on their own, but the Tuk'ata would take advantage of such distractions. The frigid winds were sharp, and the blinding chaos of the storms they brewed would shred the skin off flesh.

Zal smiled in anticipation. The students who chose this challenge set themselves against the unknown. They set themselves not against each other, not against theory and intellect, but against the world and all its perils, to conquer it. This choice proved them either truly foolhardy, or truly ambitious. She was eager to see how they would prove themselves.

Chasianna Micah tol Powl The Scion Rayth Kothar Spitesewn Marcus Dinn ​

 

[Spirit of Korriban]

Sith Holy Worlds
Korriban
Kor'ethyr Dueling Pits
Tags— Naamino Zuukamano | Darth Reign | Kyraj | Leshanna | Elmindra Xitaar | Lodd Grimmin

Darth Thaliax stood at the edge of the dueling pits, tattered cloak rippling in the winds. His body was encased in a patch-work of worn-down and time-nicked armor, grafted with life-support systems which kept him alive after grievous injury. Barely opaque feeding tubes coiled from neck to low torso, carrying nutrient pastes in a simulation of his now-removed internal organs. His face, or at least whatever yet remained of it, was obscured beneath a tinted breath mask such that only vague shapes were caught in movement—rasping as if every intake of air was a personal war, the sound wet and gargled like a sick cough. The place where his left arm had once been now ended in a jagged stump, replaced by a lingering phantom pain.

Below him, on the red stirring sands of Korriban, the students stood in an uneasy silence, organized by house and rank. Some shrunk beneath the glare of Thaliax, their eyes cautious, searching for predators. Others stood tall, brave or foolish with eyes like fire and puffed out chests. He had seen it all before—those eager to prove themselves, and those who clung to the edges of survival, afraid to fall.

"These blades," Thaliax began, his voice wet and robotic through the feed of his mask's digital vocabulator, "are laced with the venomous barbs of pelko bugs—a localized paralytic. One cut and your body will know the numbing-agony of losing a limb. However, do not be fooled, for strength is not in the blade but in the hand which wields it. Without conviction, it is nothing."​

He paused, his eyes narrowing as they swept across the line of students.

"Now, choose your partners and do not seek out the weak. Show ambition, or resign yourself to mediocrity. Once commenced, a duel lasts until one combatant yields or is no longer capable of continuing, signaled by the intervention of the Jen'koshû. Do not think to escape pain in surrender, for weakness will not survive long in Kor'ethyr."​

Thaliax waited, watching the hesitation in some and the burning resolve in others. A test of will, even in the choosing.

"Fear is the greatest weapon of your opponent," he added, nodding to the overseers.​

"Deprive them of it."​

​

On queue, black cloaked Jen'koshû swept out from the shadows behind Thaliax. Stepping silently, they surrounded a dozen, pre-determined dueling daises; slightly raised lanes about 30ft. long (9m), 15ft. wide (4.5m), and crudely hewn from Korriban's red rock. One by one, students raised their blades in declaration of challenge. Then, stepping between the rings of watching Jen'koshû, the dueling students began.​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Outer Rim
Korriban
Kor'ethyr Laboratories​

They were gathered in a well ventilated, high tech and cutting edge central laboratory. Attendees of this trial were most likely those who favored a challenge of the mind more than one of physical endurance or martial prowess. A challenge most fitting for those of House Derriphan or those seeking initiation to join their ranks, to shed the title of first year, but open to all students nonetheless. A'Mia stood near the front of the lab, rows of work tables set out with vials full of liquid before each who would attempt the trial.

"Welcome students and interested observers alike. This task is set before you as a test of wits more than will or upright strength, but your daring will be required all the same."

The Neti woman looked like a walking botanical garden. Her form cloaked in all manner of strange and rare flora, as if to showcase the bounty of Korriban's greenhouses and perhaps to even offer keen eyed students a helpful hint or two as to what puzzle lay before them.

"Three vials you must choose to drink, in so doing you may expand upon your answer to explain why you've made your choice. When you are ready to drink them we will step inside the chamber together so that your peers cannot hear your reasoning but might witness the pain of a failed test. And do not think to simply watch so you can copy another's answers-" her eerie eyes gleamed with a kind of cold amusement as she paused before continuing, "-because each stand of vials has been arranged at random. Only I know exactly which vial is safe and which contains agony."

Those observing had been set a table along the far wall. Their table was laden with exotic food and drink and they were given the best seats from which to observe the answering chamber where students would present final answers to the challenge.

"You have one hour and may use any resource you find here, in the greenhouse, or in the library. You will be observed at all times, even when you believe that you might be alone. May your minds be equal to the task ahead- Begin!"

Tags: Domina Prime Darth Reign Darth Nexion
Open to interested students and observers​

 

[Marcus Dinn]

Nearby: Zal Aditi Micah tol Powl The Scion Rayth Kothar Spitesewn
​

Marcus was perhaps, on the surface, easier prey than most. After his encounter with Braze on Malachor V had left him blinded, he had undergone surgery to repair his sight. Bandages were still wrapped around his eyes, blocking his view of the desert. But he recognized that they were on Korriban. He would have known this place anywhere.

Something was shifting at the Jutrand Academy; new blood was arriving, eager to shake things up. There was talk of instructors being brought in from across the galaxy, bringing strange new powers and skills with them to be taught to the next generation of students. Others spoke of plans to rebuild the ancient academy on Korriban, bringing the acolytes into the very heart of Sith history and culture. He wasn't sure what to believe, but the idea of change intrigued him.

This, though? He wasn't prepared for this. By all rights he should have been at home recovering. He still couldn't see, for feth's sake. Not with his eyes, anyway...

The Force filled in the gaps, allowing him to sense his surroundings. His loyal beelzebork Mali sat by his side, ready to defend her master. Beasts stalked them in the canyons and crags. He would need an ally. As the creatures drew nearer, he searched for a familiar presence...

Chasianna​

 

[The Scion]

The cool metal of a banded hafted weapon felt foreign in the boy's hands. It was a tactile sensation, one that further reminded him of why he was here. What he was about to participate in. A hunt, they called it. Across the desert wasteland he could feel bristling his skin. It was almost like Iridonia itself, if a little less treacherous. No acidic smell made it at least safer in being out at all times of the day.

But there were other threats here, weren't there? The boy sheathed his axe on his back, already walking ahead. He'd heard enough with the visor that helped him to listen, despite his deafness. They were a burden. Adding too much noise to what he already knew how to function with. So away the visor went, tucked in a pocket as his sightless eyes focused ahead on nothing.

He didn't need to hear anything to hunt. He crouched, then took off in a light jog. The Dark would be enough to guide him for this.

Zal Aditi | Micah tol Powl | Marcus Dinn | Rayth | Kothar Spitesewn | Chasianna

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Sith Holy Worlds

Korriban

Kor'ethyr Dueling Pits
​

Naamino Zuukamano was by no means feeling ready for the trial to come. He'd been on-world less than a standard week and was still learning the confusing layout of the school. Preparedness for today's challenges had not exactly been at the forefront of his mind. Kor'ethyr Academy was… different than he'd expected. The boy found himself overwhelmed at the sheer size and scope of the institution more than once during his stay thus far.

Despite that, he was determined. In fact it might have even been in spite of feeling so out of place that he dug his heels in. He would not be scared or swayed from his learning objectives, not even when the apparent instructor for today's challenge appeared half dead himself. But Naami did not let his apprehension show, instead remaining stoic- if somewhat broodingly so.

At the clear implication that they were expected to begin, the young zabrak boy squinted in his best approximation of a "ready" face and levied his practice blade in a one handed stance. Blue eyes met blue and he pointed the tip of his weapon at a girl he'd yet to meet but who appeared to be a fellow first year. His own black first year's cloak already felt a bit snug about the shoulders, having been tailored for him from measurements his aunt took over a month ago.

No matter, he would not let such minor inconvenience distract him at such an important moment. Though there was hesitance in him, fear even at hearing the effect a hit from the blades would have, he steeled himself and called out to Leshanna .

"Do you accept my challenge?" His voice was young of course but steady, not high or reedy with any of the uncertainty pushed down beneath the facade of total focus.

 

[Domina Prime]

If You A Demon Show Your Damn Claws
And i'll Introduce The Blood To Flame~
◈
I Was Evil From The Damn Start
I Would Dance on Your Bloody Grave
​

LOCATION: Korriban : Academy Lobby
ATTIRE: Primes Beskar'gam
OBJECTIVE: 3

Darth Reign | Darth Nexion ​

The convoy rumbled through the desolate, red sands of Korriban, its armored vehicles kicking up clouds of dust beneath the ominous sky. The towering Mandalorian xeno with her black armor and shimmering azure scales, sat comfortably in the back seat, her massive tail coiled in her lap. She tapped a claw against her helmet in amusement, her five eyes shifting in anticipation. Venturing deep into Sith territory was a risk most Mandalorians would never take, but Domina was not like most. She had received an enigmatic invitation to the Sith Academy—an establishment teeming with her enemies. To her, it had all the markings of a trap, but if that was the case, she sincerely hoped it would be a good one.

The vehicle slowed as the ancient Sith Academy came into view, it's dark spires stretching toward the storm-ridden sky. The Academy loomed, surrounded by figures in dark robes who exuded a palpable aura of mystery and danger. The driver, a scarred man with a cigarette between his lips, glanced back at Domina, his unease evident.

"We've arrived, ma'am," he said, lighting up his cigarette. "Not many Mandos venture this far into Sith territory. Ya sure about this? Feels like the wolves' den."

Domina's tail twitched in delight, her claws gently stroking the spine of the long, serpentine appendage. A low, clicking chitter escaped her throat.

"Threatening Prime with a good time, are we?" she teased, her eyes fixed on the academy's imposing gates. "This One has never been to school before. They always said it was for people with big heads and loftier ambitions. Not for the likes of Prime."

Memories of her wild childhood as a feral foundling on a distant, untamed world flickered through her mind. Formal education had never been her path—war and the eternal hunt had been her teacher.

The driver chuckled, exhaling smoke. "Yeah, well, I never had a formal education either. And look at me! Got my ride and i couldn't be happier~"

Domina's lips curled behind her helmet. "Godling school…where those with divine sparks test their right to ascend. How exciting."

The driver shook his head, grimacing as he took another drag of his cigarette. "Right…so are you going, or are we just gonna sit here talking about our regrets?"

Domina's posture shifted, her head tipping regally as she scoffed. "This One is a lady. Surely, a cute boy like you should open the door, yes?"

Groaning, the driver flicked his cigarette out the window and climbed out to open the door for her. Domina giggled, an almost girlish sound, at his reluctant chivalry. As she stepped out, her enormous form towered over the vehicle. Her four arms crossed in front of her as her tail flicked behind her in a serpentine dance, she approached the academy with a graceful menace.

The driver stood frozen as her tail slithered beneath his chin with a teasing flick. "See you around, handsome," she purred before sauntering toward the academy gates.

The Sith hopefuls gathered near the gates fell silent as Domina Prime approached, their dark robes billowing in the breeze. They exchanged wary glances, some clutching their weapons as they prepared for their combat trials, others simply watching with suspicion. Domina's five eyes gleamed with amusement as she surveyed the scene.

"Greetings and salutations, little gods," she cooed, her voice dripping with predatory charm. "Where might Prime find the sign-ups for the fun?"

One of the acolytes, tilted his head in confusion. "Which one?" He mused, about to explain that there were SEVERAL trials being prepared until a wiry young man, stepped forward, his smile wide and charming despite the palpable unease of those around him. He placed an arm around Domina's shoulder, leading her toward the main gates.

"Just in time, lucky you!" he said, his tone far too cheerful. "The last trial's about to start, and you almost missed it. Names Leo by the Way~" He warned, making the Xeno gasp.

Domina's head tilted, intrigued by his demeanor. "Oh no! Is Dima late for her first day of school!?"

Leo glanced at her armor, clearly recognizing her status, though his voice remained casual. "Only fashionably so! Besides, you look like a lady of class. For someone as refined as you, the trial of great minds would be perfect. Not rolling in the mud like us peasants~ Your Trial is happening in the labs."

Domina preened under the flattery, her ego stroked. "Oh my, how did you know? Dima IS a noble lady," she purred, pleased at the praise.

Leo waved over a fellow acolyte, Viv, who approached with a nervous shuffle. As they neared, Leo pulled Viv several feet away, lowering his voice so Domina wouldn't hear.

"Look," Leo hissed, his eyes sharp. "Don't mention the combat trials. Just take her to the labs and leave her there."

Viv frowned in confusion. "Why? What's the big deal? She's just a Mando—"

Leo cut him off, his voice cold with panic. "That is NOT a Mandalorian as we know them! THAT THING is Domina Prime. If she gets wind of the combat trials, we're all dead fuckin meat. No one here can stop her—not the instructors, not the Force! We're just lucky she's not exactly a genius but if you piss her off She'll flip this whole academy upside-down! So just smile, wave, tell her she's pretty, and get her away from the other trials."

Viv's eyes widened in realization. He glanced over at Domina, who was happily humming to herself, her claws twisting through her hair as if oblivious to their conversation.

"You're serious? You fear some random mando?" Viv whispered. "Only good mando is a dead mando. Why don't we just kill her now? Prove our worth to the masters of the acade—"

"NO! Does that freak of a woman LOOK LIKE a Mandalorian grunt with a gun, jetpack and a dream?" Leo snapped. Bringing up a…rather good point as those four arms and several appendages were exposed through the billowing of her cloak in the breeze. "We're lucky that she's practically harmless…when she's NOT hyped up thirsty for war and fire! And i've SEEN how you fight. She'd grab you by the hair and drag your face across the floor and i like my face how it is. Now smile, nod, and get her as far away as possible."

The two returned to Domina with forced grins. "Sorry about that," Leo said, nudging Viv. "My friend here is just a little shy around beautiful women."

Viv bowed awkwardly, extending his hand. "So uhhhh...May I escort you to your trial, my lady?"

Domina gasped, delighted by the attention. "Wow! First day of school and Dima already has pretty boys fighting for her! This is a good day, a very good day~"

She took Viv's hand with her sharp claws, and together, they walked toward the academy. As soon as they turned the corner, Leo let out a groan, dragging a hand down his face.

"Fuuuuuuuck," he muttered, his anxiety only growing. One of his fellow acolytes approached, curious.

"What was all that about?" he asked.

Leo glanced back at the academy gates, shaking his head in disbelief. "Dima is on Korriban why oh force why make it make fuckin sense~" He huffed, causing the other to furrow his brows.

"Dima? The fuck is a Dima?" They echoed the name confused.

Leo looked towards the red skies and sighed deeply.

"A fucking problem~"

 

[Kivah]

Out of the three trials, Kivah had chosen the hunting one for the obvious reason, she was a hunter. What did she know of poisons and science? Well, maybe that wouldn't have been too difficult, given how much her mother had always tried to teach her the science behind ecology. But she hadn't ever paid serious attention to the boring lectures. Sword fighting was also out, any other kind and she'd have dominated without a second thought. But swords had never had a place in her arsenal before. Too unwieldy to carry and a blaster had always made more sense to her. Plus blasters were fun and fists and knives more visceral.

She'd left the blasters at home today. This was to be a test of how good she was, not her guns, and she owned some darn fine guns. Instead she'd armed herself simply with a large Cathar hunting bow, a hand ax in case she needed to do some real damage, and a quartet of knives set up for left and right hand draws. She'd been standing there with the other prospective recruits in her biosuit and field jacket when there was a commotion and some armored speeders pulled up. There was a muttering about Mandalorians before the Prime exited her vehicle. Instantly Kivah considered changing her test to whatever this primal woman would be overseeing. After witnessing the raw power and brutality of her fight on Krayiss, Kivah was eager to see such a spectacle again.

But she had a plan and she'd stick to it. The living suit flexed around her in response to her strengthening determination as the memories of that cataclysmic day roused her own desires for conflict. Behind her, her tail lashed against the legs of her fellow prospects and Kivah glared at the one put in charge of them, willing him to signal the start of the hunt. The condescending smirk he returned made her want to go over there and teach him a lesson, but no, she'd not let her emotions control her. Instead she went to the edge of the group and looked out into the ragged landscape as she refined her plan. Korriban was a desert world, but more than that, she had the impression that something had killed it in an age long pass. Like it was nothing but an empty grave. That's where she'd start then. The Tuk'ata she was to hunt protected the tombs, and she'd use blood to draw them out.

At the start signal, some of the hopefuls ran to get ahead, others looked about uncertainly, Kivah moved with a smooth and unhurried purpose. Bold as a lion, she strode into the valley, each rocky crag was a promise, an opportunity behind which a creature could lurk. Unslinging her bow, she selected her first arrow and nocked it. She could get blood anywhere, even from herself or another student, but she wanted to be further out before risking something like that. Setting a ground-eating pace, she let her long legs carry her over the cursed earth and further out into the wilderness. Her hunt would not be rushed or simple. And if she crossed over into a predator's territory and became the hunted, all the better. Teeth bared in a grin of anticipation as the biosuit's mask slithered over her face to block out the sand, Kivah continued forward.

Domina Prime Darth Caedes Zal Aditi Marcus Dinn The Scion

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Darth Caedes Zal Aditi Kivah The Scion Marcus Dinn

[ darth lolcat theme ]​

A rumbling growl resonated from the child's throat.

Amber eyes looked out on the desolate landscape, its deepening shadows holding the promise of secrets and death. And he smiled. Fangs caught the dying of the light. The hair was standing up on the back of his neck, as shivers ran through his body.

Just like hunting ganguls back home. The prey was the predator. Hunting it, while it hunted you. There was a certain thrill, a certain energy when one did not just hunt but played the most dangerous game. It stirred the blood in a way that hunting a mouse never could.

Bending forward, the young Cathar dug his claws into the sand as he arched his head back and stretched. Shaking off all pretense of civility and letting his beast off the leash. The howls carried by the wind filled his ears. Too distorted to distinguish just how many tuk'ata there were. The valley funneled and channeled the wind in different directions.

He didn't care for the robe. Too loose. Too stifling. Hopefully, after tonight, he'd be able to decide his own attire. Something more fitting for a cat on the prowl. A pair of Cathar hunting knives were sheathed in crossed scabbard at the small of his back, the handles waiting at either hip to be drawn.

Speaking of cats on the prowl, the child's yellow cats-eyes flickered over to the unmistakable form of the large lioness.

The boy had abandoned the notion of cooperating with the other acolytes. He didn't have the time nor the patience to learn how non-Cathar hunted. However, finding himself on the killing fields with another Cathar presented a unique opportunity.

"Mwrrreow." the youth mewed softly from behind and a respectful distance from the woman. It was a simple question in their language, asking if she would hunt alone. No doubt, both were eager to be about it. But hunting in pair would afford its advantages as well.

He waited her answer, assuming she gave one.

The chance to hunt together or go their separate ways. Either way, the night help a lot of promise.

 

[Aramea Bel]

Darth Caedes | Zal Aditi | Kivah | The Scion | Marcus Dinn | Micah tol Powl
​

Mother had suggested that Aramea challenge themself in the upcoming trials. The simple poisonous test which Mother was conducting would prove trivial for the Sithspawn after all. She was immune to toxins, or at least had proven so thus far, so that didn't seem quite fair. And dueling, while a challenge, did not pose any new difficulties or obstacles for Aramea to overcome. The desert hunt on the other hand...

Although Aramea's biology was a general mystery to themself, and in many ways to their Maker as well, there was one thing that had become abundantly clear. The desert was generally inhospitable to the Sithspawn. The distant star beat down upon their head, the parasol they carried doing little to abate its rays of light. So far away, so cold. Why was it always cold? And the arid air gave way to no moisture, and their root-bones felt stiff. They creaked quietly with every movement, every shiver of their puppet-body. Fatigue washed over them far quicker here than on other planets. The environment would prove a greater challenge than the beasts themselves.

Others had gathered for this challenge as well. Aramea recognized none of them, but they each bore their own fierce countenance. Beings of all ages, though none were as young as Aramea actually was. She smiled at them all, and greeted them kindly through the cold-slow before they'd set out, some going their own way, others staying near others, at least for the time being.

Aramea, for their part, had wandered off in a random direction. And they walked. And walked. And walked some more. Goodness it was chilly. But, perhaps they were far enough that their roots might do there work now, uninterrupted. The sand beneath their feet was too loose to sense any vibrations. It shifted too easily, absorbed the footsteps of creatures. But if their roots spread, reached across the vast desert, they might catch a glimpse of something living here.

 

[Darth Caedes]

​

Korriban​

Vardin, Palatial Capital of Korriban​

Spires of Kor'ethyr​

Tags— Zal Aditi | Madrona A’Mia | Naamino Zuukamano | Darth Reign | Lodd Grimmin | Kyraj | Leshanna | Allyson Locke ​

​

Vardin rose like a crown from atop Korriban's blood-red sand. Stalagmite tower superstructures formed the city's foundation, made into silhouette by Horuset's chilly glare and interconnected by a webwork of elegant bridges. Lavish gatherings of the city's elite sprawled out across open balconies high in the air, raised up to a skyline where pleasure yachts drifted lazily between stone skyscrapers.

Below, massive stone promenades wound throughout the city in concentric geometric configurations, livened by a steady flow of speeder traffic. Street sides here pulsed with life, threading through cavern-esque markets and silent stone temples, restaurants and shopping districts, shipyards and the trackless expanse of the Golg Desert. As per the intention of Vardin's ancient architects, the city's every inch had been carved in harmony with Korriban's natural rock formations; built into caverns and cliff-side walls, or the sprawling warrens which stretch for miles beneath the world's surface.

Darth Caedes sat in silence atop his throne, high on the balcony of a stalagmite tower near Kor'ethyr. As was so often the case when set before audiences, he wore the smooth and handsome skin of a young human, high cheekbones forming angular lines beneath golden glowing eyes. Around him, Korribani nobles and Sith Masters mingled with one another, draped in finery and exchanging shallow pleasantries as they watched the trials. Before him, on the throne's dais, sat Elmindra Xitaar, First Lord of Korriban and Right Hand of the King, a steadfast ally who's pheromonal presence helped to keep him calm and stem the anxieties owed to performing the roles of leadership. Located at the city's outskirts and overlooking the Academy grounds from his vantage point, Caedes watched as the sand-strewn-winds of his world whispered across Golg, carrying with them the faint clatter of clashing blades. From here he could see Kor'ethyr's Dueling Pits, where students gathered in groups to train beneath the tutelage of Darth Thaliax. Beyond, in the distance, acolytes like small insects dotted the desert sands, unleashed to the mercy of Zal Aditi and her deadly Tuk'ata hunters.

Seeing them stirred something in Caedes, not contempt, but pride. These students were the true future of Korriban—of the Sith—and they were thriving despite the open wounds of their recent loss. Despite the Emperor's treachery at Sluis Van.

Thoughts of that Worm's betrayal persisted in goading him—persisted in haunting the grieving families who had lost so many, so needlessly—and sent fresh waves of anger to writhe in his chest and curl his fingers to a fist. Korriban had been poised for a major victory that day, on behalf of the Holy Worlds. Overreaching mightily, the Galactic Alliance invasion force had been predicted, snared, and summarily crushed beneath the vice grip of Elmindra Xitaar and Korriban's King. Their trap had been perfectly set, and the Jedi had all but stumbled into it. Yet ever gluttonous for wanton death, and unbeknownst to the brave men and women defending him with their lives, the Emperor had unleashed an unfathomable spirit of Hunger to consume Sith and foe alike. Caedes' wraiths named the spirit Voracitos, it had torn apart the very forces securing Korriban's power. Caedes had lost many loyal warriors that day, good people who had followed him into battle. His people. And though the enemy fleet had been shattered, the cost of life had been far too high—yet he had not let that define them.

They had rebuilt. They had endured.

Caedes' gaze drifted across the courtyard to where nobles and Sith Masters gathered on the wide balcony around him, their attentions fixed on the trials. He did not resent their presence. No, in fact they, too, were part of this resurgence. Each victory of theirs, each success in areas he might have once deemed petty politics, was a reflection of his reign. He took pride not only in their survival but in their ambition, their growth. These were not empty gestures of power—they were evidence that the Sith, under his rule, were still strong. That despite the Emperor's blunders, his people were thriving.

Even the Jen'ari, undead who served drinks and delicacies to the guests below his elevated throne, were a testament to Korriban's endurance. Once warriors, they now served a new purpose, a symbol of the people's ability to adapt and overcome.

Anger still prickled beneath the surface, still dominated his thoughts. Yet as Caedes watched the students at Kor'ethyr, a foreign sense of purpose stirred within him. The future of Korriban would never be defined by the Worm Emperor's blunders, nor the shortcomings of his fragile empire. It would be built on the backs of his people, by their ambition to rise above even the greatest of setbacks. That was what mattered. And that was why they would endure.​

 

[Leshanna]

Leshanna had not been told what to expect when her mistress brought her to Korriban. Just that she was going to be taken to an Academy, to hopefully be accepted as a student, so that she could become a ‘Sith’ too. She had undergone some tests, some simple and some challenging, and she was thankful that her mistress had taught her a little bit about using her special powers, this so-called ‘Force’. It had been enough to satisfy those who tested her, and the girl was given a set of Academy robes and informed that she would undergo her initiation trials within a couple of days.

Then, with only a simple dismissive word, her mistress left her alone on the red, chilly, spooky planet.

But Leshanna was used to being left behind somewhere, being an orphan. It was hard for her to interact with others, so she explored where she could, until the day of her trials began. She also discovered that morning that she would be competing against another student in a so-called duel. This excited the girl for some reason; fighting of any sort had been forbidden at the orphanage, but it seemed to be encouraged here. Lesh had always wondered what it would feel like to fight someone before. Now she had her chance!

Now here she stood with other black robed acolytes in the so called ‘dueling pits’, completely out of her element and little idea of what to even do next. There was an air of uncertainty about her, of caution, even as she held the strange and somewhat heavy sword in her hands. Her already pale face whitened even further as the near robotic sound of the dark robed Sith who was overseeing these duels, explained what the barbs on the swords were - and what they would do to someone once struck.

Leshanna bit the inside of her cheek as she studied the ‘sword’, before she looked up when she and others were told to pick their sparring partner, and to not go for the weakest looking one. She sighed upon hearing that; she already knew she was going to be picked last. Who would want to fight her? She was scrawny and thin and certainly didn’t look like some fighter.

But as she looked around herself, she noticed that quite a few looked just like her - unsure of themselves. A few others appeared more…stout and bold, and made their challenges like strutting peacocks. The bullies, she thought to herself. She hated bullies. She’d always wanted to know what it felt like to knock one down a peg or two, to have them fear her.

Lesh’s blue eyes narrowed as she glared at them, about to take a step towards one when a boy opposite to her stepped up to the sparring platform beyond her and pointed his sword at her. She turned to face him and looked over the boy; she’d seen Zabraks before in the orphanage. They always seemed to be troublemakers.

She wondered if he had chosen her, because she looked like she could be easily defeated.

Maybe she could be.

Or maybe she would surprise him, and herself.

Leshanna lifted her chin slightly and raised the pelko-barbed sword in her hand in the same manner he did.

“Challenge accepted!” Lesh said back to the boy, cringing slightly at the waver in her voice.

Naamino Zuukamano
​

 

[Darth Reign]

Location: Spires of Kor'ethyr
Tags: Naamino Zuukamano Madrona A’Mia Zal Aditi Lodd Grimmin Kyraj Leshanna

---

As he exited the building onto the tall spire Darth Reign was regretting leaving the safety of Bastion and The Dominus and entering what he believed to be the proverbial "lion's den". All the lessons his father had taught him about the history of the Sith and the planet of Korriban had led him to believe that this was a trap. However, he sensed no treachery within the Sith gathered here, and his invitation had told him that the "honor" of his presence was requested.

The cold wind of the desert planet caused his robe to drape out behind him, gold accents and ancient Sith symbols shimmering slightly in the light of the distant star. Hearing the distant clang of practice blades, he first moved to the railing, to catch a glimpse of the duelists before making his way to the lords gathered at the elevated throne. While there, a young Zabrak had caught his eye, the challenge called out had brought a smile to Reign's face, remembering his own fear and determination during the duels of his youth. Good luck, my young friend he thought.

Turning his attention to the throne, Reign caught his first look at his host. The King of Korriban, Darth Caedes, from what his intelligence network had been able to glean about the other man, the Diarch had to be impressed. Hailed as a messiah on Korriban, and showing an uncharacteristic care for his people, Caedes ruled adored by his subjects, something Reign and the man had in common. Below him, on the dias of the throne was the First Lord of Korriban, Reign's "Network" had advised him that this lord was the admiral of Korriban's fleets and second to the King himself, not one to be trifled with.

As Reign approached the throne, an interesting opportunity played in his head, should these Sith prove to be different than he was taught. The King had suffered grievous losses in the battle for Sluis Van, and their fleet had been reduced greatly. Should these Sith prove to be "evolved" as Reign considered himself, perhaps he could come to their aid, with his own fleet and forces growing exponentially, and the opening of his own academy on Bastion perhaps a mutually beneficial partnership could be reached, a new Brotherhood, perhaps. That must wait, first a measure of each other must be made. he thought to himself.

Stopping in front of the dias, Darth Reign bowed. Introducing himself to the First Lord of Korriban "First Lord Xitaar, it is an honor to be invited to these trials, thank you" then, locking eyes with the King himself, smiling with genuine warmth he said "My Lord Caedes, I will admit I was surprised to receive an invitation, but I could not pass up a chance to see the splendor of your realm, and witness the future of the Sith firsthand. I must say, Korriban is not what I had expected, the history and power here are amazing. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to join in this momentous occasion."

He waited a moment before continuing "I apologize, my manners have left me, such is the wonder of this world. Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Darth Reign, lord of the Diarchy, and a friend, should you have me."

 

[The Scion]

The sands were deceiving.

The light jog the Zabrak had been running in slowed as he felt it all around him. Eyes watching. Not eyes, no they had no sight much like him. But they were aware he was there regardless. Pit falls lingered under the shifting sands, traps waiting for the wayward soul who wouldn't notice them. They were to hunt, but while being hunted by the desert itself?

A grin spread across his face. Wild and untamed, one that was made by feeling alone. He'd never seen a smile before, and anyone who saw him would realize pretty quick he had no idea how to properly smile.

The axe came off his back, resting in his hands as a chill rushed over the metal. Ice formed before he took off in a leap towards one too close to the surface. The K'lor'slug didn't have time to screech as the axe imbedded deep, freezing it's hide over before the axe was ripped free with the sound of shattered glass rather than wet flesh.

Not that his deaf ears could hear it. Screeches filled the area as other slugs crawled from the sands, their trap clearly foiled. Numbers would have to do. But the boy stood calm and waiting. The boy reacted on instinct with mechanical precision. With no hearing or sight to distract him, the Force fully guided his every movement. He weaved through them, striking with ice shattering blows that left them broken. Dead, for some, but he wasn't focused on the kill.

Just the win. The survival. He didn't need to strive for anything else. It was only when the threat of danger that loomed around him faded that he went through, cleaving his axe into each to claim his kill. He was the strongest, plain and simple. The strongest would survive.

Zal Aditi | Chasianna | Micah tol Powl | Rayth | Kothar Spitesewn | Marcus Dinn

 

[Kivah]

She'd been walking for a few minutes when she heard it, a quiet and inoffensive mewl in her language. Looking back, Kivah saw the kit from Faldos and the Tsis'kaar mission. She considered her answer for a moment, despite the plethora of other aliens in the trials, the two of them made natural outsiders. Many had heard of the great razing of Cathar and the many slave raids their planet had endured. Having an ally could prove useful, even as bait.

Her tail flicked twice in a 'come along' motion, and then since he might not recognize the Denik gesture, she waved him closer with a hand. Her stride didn't change though, there was ground to cover, and he could keep up on his own. And if she had to carry him, she'd throw him at the first beast she saw for a distraction.

Despite the sun's red glare, the air hung light and cold, sounds seemed to travel fast and sure down the valley. Gritty sand blew on the wind, and she was thankful for her biosuit's masked helmet as the slinky, skin-tight, garment kept her comfortable. Sounds from another hopeful's fight echoed down from another part of the valley, causing Kivah's tail to twitch in irritation.

Stopping, she crouched down to listen to the winds and strained to hear what little noises they might be concealing. Low down, she looked at the variation in the ground, looking for where beasts tread and the dips and bulges that might hint at hidden pitfalls. A creature's trail caught her attention and she pointed it out to Micah. Two large depressions flanking two smaller ones as they walked. A large creature, but not the ones they hunted.


Domina Prime Darth Caedes Zal Aditi Marcus Dinn The Scion Micah tol Powl Aramea Bel

 

[Lodd Grimmin]

Darth Reign Darth Caedes @Others

Several Trade Federation Shuttles had landed on the planet of Korriban, a historic world that once served as the seat of multiple Sith Empires and is often regarded as the birthplace of the Sith, if one subscribes to such historical narratives that have faded into obscurity over the ages, but there was no forgetting the fact that this planet was underneath the dark dominion of Carnifex, Butcher of Mandalore and Twice-Emperor of an Empire which once spanned from the Capital of Bastion to the Banking Sectors of Muunilinst.

The remnants of ancient Sith architecture was scattered throughout the terrain, their hidden knowledge and lingering presences beckoning to those who traverse the area with alluring offers of power and might, as they remain severed from the living and eternally haunted by the allure of liberation.

From the depths of one of the shuttlecraft on the landing platform, emerged the Trade Monarch of Neimoidia and its Purse-Worlds, Lodd Grimmin who had power and influence within the Galactic Alliance and the Trade Federation .Seated upon a mechno-chair—a marvel of Neimoidian engineering adorned with intricate designs, as it took proceeded down the ramp and towards the high spires and towering fortresses.

Where he would meet the enigmatic King of Korriban and several other guests to talk about investments and economic concerns. Perched on his other arm, was a magnificent Neimoidian pylat bird who preened its vibrant feathers but remained still, its sharp beak on alert for potential food.

As Lodd's mechno-chair ascended the final tier of the highest spire, he spotted the silhouette of the Korriban king, an enigmatic presence seated upon his throne, accompanied by another visitor, Darth Reign and First Lord Elmindra Xitaar . The air was laden with a some semblance of tension, as both parties had the opportunity to evaluate each other in a direct and intimate manner for the first time.

" Ah.... It appears that I am not the earliest attendee at this conference. I will express my apologies for my lateness, Darth Caedes but as you know matters within the Alliance have not been particularly well-suited for investors. It is my hope that Korriban is not the same way.. " The Neimoidian said with some grace and politeness within his tone, hinting that the Alliance was not doing well for his financial endeavors and further added that Korriban would be rather suitable for such profits instead.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Darth Caedes Kivah Zal Aditi Marcus Dinn The Scion Aramea Bel

[ obligatory post theme ]​

The boy's head cocked to one side.

A swish and a... was that a bob? No, the curl was possessive, wasn't it..? so, what she'd said was: She wanted... cheesecake?

The look of confusion was plain on his face. It was said that the Cathar language was seventy percent non-verbal cues and only thirty percent vocalization -- ten if you didn't count hissing -- and a cat could convey a great deal with its tail.

Myr Rho, however, didn't have tails. And were generally terrible at trying to read cats who had them.

Then she gave a wave of her hand.

The boy just blinked. Oh, she wanted him to join her. That... that made much more sense.

Falling into step, the boy kept her pace. It wasn't unlike the speed at which his tribe would move through the desert valleys of his home moon. For the same reason, the sand blowing on the wind didn't bother him. Dedoon's red sands were much the same. Set aside the roaming undead, the Dark Side miasma that permeated much of the planet, or the wild Sithspawn and Korriban was a lot like his home.

The sound of a struggle was carried on the breeze, and the boy caught the flicker of irritation. In a situation like this, it wasn't what one could hear as much as what they didn't because of the noise. Still, he was curious if she'd change direction. A struggle might draw their target out.

She stayed the course, pointing out a set of tracks in the sand.

"Mrrreow," the boy intoned quietly, his eyes flicking up to her as he did. Posing a question of if this creature might supply them some bait for their target.

 

[Kyraj]

Korriban
Kor'ethyr Dueling Pits​

Kyraj stalked the perimeter of the crowd as Thaliax gave instructions to the students. He looked down his nose at the gathered novices as he paced. He reserved judgment until he saw them fight. Looks could certainly be deceiving, but he could feel the potential radiating from some of those below.

Contrasting the mechanical horror that was Darth Thaliax the young battlemaster was adorned in lacquered black armor. Sleek and polished. It was not ostentatious but elegant in form. Beneath the plates flowed lush black silks similarly simple in their elegance. His gaze was piercing. One red-gold eye bearing the mark of the dark side with his other cybernetic eye bearing a golden iris.

That second eye recorded the proceedings. He would use the implant to review the behavior of the students later. Compare their performance in battle to how they carried themselves now. They were students, but eventually, they would be rivals, or allies, or both and in any of those scenarios he would benefit from as much knowledge of them as possible. He would judge them fairly. And he would learn their tells. The better to teach them. The better to deploy them. The better to betray them if need be.

He noted one acolyte with a spark in his eye. A spark Kyraj recognized. A defiance. A rage. A longing for freedom much like his own. Perhaps this one had been a slave once, as he had. He stepped up the acolyte and handed them a blade. "Use that passion. Let it drive you. But do not let it blind you. Rage can be power, but unless you are cunning you will be easily led. This is the way to take control of your destiny." He moved on then. Not allowing the student a response. He was growing to like the teaching, but he was not interested in a dialogue at the moment. His care for this one must not distract him from the others.

As he moved on he noticed a girl hefting her sword as she stared icily at some of the louder more... braggadocious students. He could feel the anger in her. The distaste. A longing for... justice. She would be one to watch as well. Just as she seemed about to engage with one of the louder acolytes, a zabrak boy, challenged her. Kyraj took his measure. It was unusual to see zabrak without their traditional markings, perhaps that had something to do with the desire to prove himself that practically rippled the air around him. There was fear underneath it, but that was not unusual. Even the braggarts, perhaps them most of all felt fear in the face of their trials. But the young zabrak had mastered it and found his resolve. As the girl turned to accept the challenge she noted a similar resolve. These two would go far. That was if they survived each other.

The Sith took a position equidistant to the two but not intervening. "Be ruthless. Be cunning. Be indomitable. The eyes of the king are upon you." He gestured with a finger and a nod toward each of them signaling that they should begin before standing with his hands behind his back to watch.

Tags: Darth Caedes Elmindra Xitaar Leshanna Naamino Zuukamano ​

 

[Myunnah]

The battered light freighter hissed out white clouds as it powered down from landing in the academy's cargo hanger, and the crew were quick to let the ramp down. They were carrying extra supplies for the guests and vendors here for the trials, and one more thing, a very special passenger that'd had them all on edge for the last two days and had an insistence that was hard to say 'no' to. She was quick to exit too, resplendent in her battered and tarnished armor, her sheer bulk and corded muscles working under the black leather of her skin making up for any grime. The loops of her Bag of Things hanging from her mouth as the scents and air of her once seen home world filled her nostrils.

Myunnah had overheard the mention of the freighter's destination and had road along on a spur of the moment decision, and now a pleased rumble reverberated through her chest as the memories of here rolled through her mind. The large beast trotted through the corridors, her claws clacking across the stone surfaces until she found her way out. One thing she liked was that while people got out of her way, they didn't seem overly scared of her. This could be an enjoyable place for a while. The sweet scent of cooking meat lead her nose towards the viewing stands out in the bright, cold, sun.

Some were excited to see her, a prime example of her species. Others were more cautious, only calmed by her obvious marks of civility and the way she carried herself. Like a good princess. Yes. She ignored them all in favor of seeking out the stalls catering to the spectators. Finding a line, she queued up and was gratified at how kind everyone was in leaving to let her right up to the sweating human cook. Hmm, hot job cooking. Smelled nervous, she would taste his meats. Her red eyes looked over his display before she set the Bag of Things grips down to the ground between her feet. "I will taste. No stick." She told him in her deep, clipped, words that rolled around in her mouth and over her large tongue.

The meat was divine, to kill for. And the man had different kinds! Or probably different sauces according to her nose. But that was just as good to her as she took to her tastes. "Cost?" She asked like any civilized being. The man took a few tries to understand her meaning, and she was considering simply leaving with her things and taking the meal as tribute, when he held out the beep box. Carefully, Myunnah tapped it with her clawed foot until it beeped. Satisfied, she picked up her Bag of Things again, and trotted off to find a drink. Really? How could so many people be obsessed with 'pay' and 'credits' and not understand the beep box?