No Rest for the Wicked Witch

[Vaermina]

Vaermina was new to this whole exploring the galaxy business. She was new to it all. At lot of her information came constructed from Maiev and the people she associated herself with. Beyond that a lot of it was rumours and hearsay. What most people talked about was most likely to reach her ears first, and catch her attention.

Vaermina had many plans. There was a lot she wanted to do, and a whole galaxy to do it in. What she recognised now was that she was weak, relative to her potential. She knew the tales of great witches of Dathomir, and she was but an initiate compared to them. So it was power that she desired. A good place to start then was at the seat of power, and rumour had it that meant the Dark Lord of the Sith Empire. From what she understood, her quest for power seemed well-aligned with the Sith ideals, and so she judged them slightly less likely to persecute her than the options.

Dark Lord of the Sith it was. And where does the Dark Lord chill? Why, in the Palace of the Dark Lord of course! This meant she had to travel to Bastion, the capital world of the Sith Empire no less, which she promptly did. Vae had never been there before, but she found her way around soon enough. Soon she found herself looking upon the impressive pyramid-like structure.

Getting in would be no easy task. She anticipated it to be heavily guarded. But she had a plan. While far from a powerful witch, she still had her gifts and abilities. With her magic she played tricks on the minds of people to get where she wanted, to learn what she wanted to know. To send a message, she intended to reach the seat of the Dark Lord's throne. It was open to the public, from time to time it seemed. The issue was that she was not here on official business, and neither was she going during visitation hours.

Vaermina skillfully and elegantly manoeuvred herself around the palace's many defences, outwitting its many guards until she made it past the Grand Reception Hall and into the Audience Chamber. Escaping notice and managing her way through the intricate corridors designed to confuse, finally, she found the throne of the Dark Lord, empty and unguarded. Pleased with her own accomplishment, skill and guile, she planted her behind down on it, crossed her legs, and with a smug grin on her face she awaited the Dark Lord's arrival.

That did not happen. It was a very bad plan. Very bad.

What really happened was that quite quickly it became clear that she was in way over her head. She did not know where she was going, and though she made it past a few patrols, the palace's surveillance systems caught her easily enough. Guards were notified of her location, she was caught, and the jig was up. The brunette witch, dressed in a long-sleeved black dress, was dragged into the throne room by force and thrown at the floor in front of [member="Darth Carnifex"].

Welp.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The main audience chamber was truly massive, rising at least a hundred meters and sprawling over almost more than half of that length from end to end and made entirely out of black marble. The main walkway leading to the throne was bordered by two sets of giant polished basalt columns leading up to the multi-stepped dais upon which sat the Imperial throne. The throne itself seemed to have been forged from black iron, and was intentionally cobbled together to resemble jagged spikes that weaved this way and that way out from the actual seat which was angular and unpadded. Despite the throne's simplistic nature and primitive design both of the chair's armrests sported control keys for enabling communications to Imperial officers, as well as the activation of a personal shield generator and a guard summoner.

And in it sat the Dark Lord of the Sith himself, Darth Carnifex.

He was flanked by four Crownguard, each of them still and stoic as statues as the errant witch was brought before the dais steps. She hadn't been given too rough of a treatment, which was an odd sight for those who had been guilty of trespassing into the Dark Lord's domain in the past. She had been put into shackles, however, bound around her wrists and ankles. This meant that for quick transportation she had to be carried / dragged by the Guards, which they had done so.

Carnifex was intrigued, not many had attempted to breach his Palace in the months since he had become Dark Lord of the Sith. And he suspected that where she was now was not entirely disconnected from where she wanted to be. They had tracked her progress throughout the Palace, and her path had been very particular. Almost as if she was looking for something, or someone. It stood to reason that she was looking for him, but what reason? Carnifex would find out soon enough.

"Very bold of you, girl. Risking a gruesome death just to be thrown at my feet." He leaned forward, his molten eyes studying her. "What do you want?"

[member="Vaermina"]​

 

[Vaermina]

The witch’s little escapade appeared to have come to an abrupt end. What awaited next? The executioner’s block? It appeared so. Someone who went by the moniker of the Dark Lord did not sound like someone who treated his prisoners gently.

She glanced back up at the Crownguard behind her, a hint of disdain in her eyes but she did not let it linger. They could have treated her far worse, and they were still capable of doing so. She turned to [member="Darth Carnifex"], getting herself up to her knees, hands and feet in shackles.

“Nice place you’ve got here. I’ll admit, your guards are doing a better job than I thought they would. But that’s on me.” You tried to impress him. Now he will kill you. Not yet. “I came here seeking you, your… Dark Lordship.” was that right? “I left Dathomir only recently, but already I hear much about you. You have quite the reputation.” she paused, letting the words linger. She did not have a reputation, and thus she borrowed that of her home planet.

“I had pictured our meeting a little differently. I was supposed to sneak in and greet you from your big chair over there. Obviously that didn’t work out…” Insolence! No, honesty. You won’t get what you want. This will be your last mistake. Don’t. Distract me. Not now. “I was hoping… I was hoping you could teach me. They say you have magic.” she laid out her intentions as plainly as she could, he did not appear to be the sort of man you deceived lightly.

Perhaps some twisted part of him would find amusement in seeing how far she could go. Perhaps the voices were right, and these were the final moments of an all too short story.

| [member="Darth Carnifex"] |​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Carnifex seemed to bristle with amusement, "So, a wayward witch from Dathomir comes all this way to seek my mentorship?"

It wasn't the first time some wide-eyed acolyte hungered to learn at his feet, thinking that by proxy they could become just as powerful and rise high in the Empire. Most failed, incapable of keeping up with the Dark Lord's brutal training regimen. The luckiest died, the unlucky were crippled and shattered by what they had experienced. Only the resilient and the versatile were able to overcome everything he had to throw at them, emerging from his training as true members of the Sith Order.

Still, there was something dubious about this girl's motivations. He snorted derisively, hot air billowing out from his flared nostrils. "The witches of Dathomir have magic as well, girl, what makes you think you will learn anything from me that they don't already know?"

[member="Vaermina"]​

 

[Vaermina]

Well, at least he wasn't killing her. Yet. She had peaked his curiosity, but that was all there was to it. Like a feline predator, he would play with his food until the moment he got bored. Then he would eat her. This left Vaermina with a rather simple set of options. If you want to live, don't bore him.

She hesitated, waiting until she could bury the bitterness in her voice. Wouldn't want to sound petty. Yet she was only moderately successful. "They do." she paused, hesitant to add further compliments to their skills. She would surpass them one day, and then she would show the meaning of true power. They would pay for what they had done to her. "But I don't think they are very eager to give me all of their secrets. I cast a spell in anger. And for that they exiled me." She hadn't been using night spells, but even a witch's motivation was put into question. She had been set up, but it did not diminish her crime in their eyes.

If only her paths had crossed with the Nightsisters out there in the wilds, perhaps she would be in an entirely different place now. However, she had not.

| [member="Darth Carnifex"] |​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Ah."

So that was it then, an exiled witch with nothing left to lose taking a monumentally risky gamble. "Magic is a delicate art, one must be of clear mind and possess a consciousness of their actions. One wrong move, and you could destroy yourself and those around you. It is not something to be utilized in unfocused anger." Although, something about the tone of her response led him to believe that there was more than what was being said.

He mulled over something in his head, before finally coming to a decision. "Perhaps you can be of some use to me, but just how worthy you are to wield the powers of a Sith has yet to be seen. Show me what you do know."

[member="Vaermina"]​

 

[Vaermina]

Clear of mind and possess a consciousness of their actions. Welp, that ruled Vaermina out then. But you’ve done it so far. She has the power to control it. But it got her exiled. That’s why she’s here. She must learn. She must see.

The Dark Lord’s voice stood out to her on top of the endless whispers. She focused in on it. Vae was not lacking any motivation, this was literally a do or die situation. But it appeared the Dark Lord leaned towards do.

‘Perhaps you can be of some use to me’. Success! But that meant her survival was likely dependent on her usefulness to him. She hadn’t expected him to help her out of the kindness of his heart, so this was alright. Probably. But then he put her on the spot. ‘Show me what you do know’. Uh oh.

Awkward silence followed as she observed the Dark Lord. “You want me to? Oh…” Did she cast a spell on him? Or one of his lackeys. Either could be viewed as an insult, and she honestly did not know which was better. She decided to go with the former.

Vae muttered an incantation in hushed whispers, drawing upon the power of the spirits. Her forte had always appeared to be illusions and the like, and so she attempted to draw out the terrors of his mind and have them manifest before his very eyes. Little did she know that he was Epicanthix, and thus her efforts were likely to be futile. Terrific start.

| [member="Darth Carnifex"] |​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

She would find her efforts ultimately futile.

A shame.

"An ambitious attempt. However, you'll find my mind to be quite impenetrable." The blessing of Epicanthix genetics, "But I think I have in my possession the perfect object to test the mettle of your magic." The Dark Lord pressed a button on the arm of his throne, opening up a direct communications line with the dungeons several hundred levels below.

A voice on the other line posed an inquiry in a gruff, yet respectful, tone -- "What is thy bidding, milord?"

"Bring prisoner 2487-B to my audience chamber immediately, and remove the inhibitors."

A quick confirmation garbled in response before the channel was cut, and silence once again returned to assert its dominance over the gathering. Luckily for the witch it wouldn't take long for the prisoner to arrive. He was bound by the wrists and ankles by heavy manacles, and a hood was drawn over his face to obscure his features and scramble his concentration but by the look of his body type he couldn't have been older than twenty.

At the Dark Lord's bidding the hood was removed, revealing a youthful face scarred by torture and abuse. His handler unclipped a lightsaber from his belt, and sat it down before the prisoner.

"Prove to me that you are worthy enough to train at my feet, Witch. At my command this Padawan will be released from his restraints. If you kill him, then I will teach you. And if he kills you..." The Dark Lord made sure to beckon the Jedi's gaze to him. "Then I will set him free, both of your fates now rest on the outcome of this struggle."

Another gesture unlocked the shackles binding the boy.

"Begin."​

​

​

[member="Vaermina"]​

 

[Vaermina]

Well that had failed. Miserably. Great start, Vae. You're gonna die.

A sense of impending doom seemed to be the theme of this encounter. Balancing on a knife edge, where making it to other side promised everything she could ever want and more. But the risk was grave, and the knife called for blood. The fragility of her own mortality seemed to be repeated in her mind, over and over again. Death never left her side.

Death was watching. She needed to appease him. A sacrifice was demanded.

The Dark Lord confirmed as much. The wait gnawed at her stomach, like a rodent before a natural disaster who could see the towering waves before they came crashing down on civilisation. Escape. It wanted out. Now. And only soft stripes of flesh from a misguided witch kept it there.

Finally, exactly who the Emperor had sent for was revealed. The gnawing eased. Well, at least he wasn't a rancor. "Why hello there Prisoner 2487-B." Vaermina repeated a name which purposefully barred any personality from being involved. Prisoner 2487-B had been deprived of his soul. But she did not have a hard time imagining that was the least of his worries. Better him than her.

Her second chance was unveiled. He couldn't have been much older than her, if at all. Maybe if they had sat down they could've shared their experiences being on the receiving end of captivity and torture. Maybe they could've cried together.

There was morality drawn into their choice. Death was final. And by the standards of most cult, religions, and social norms, it was a sin. For her the choice was simple. And she had to assume it was so for him as well.

Vaermina the Witch's stance widened, and she repeated that same incantation she had used on [member="Darth Carnifex"]. What remained of him she did not know. Maybe there had been compassion in him once, but there was no guarantee it remained. She went for the kill. Conjuring up his worst nightmares, forcing him a spectator to his own personal demons dancing on the corpses of his hopes, his ambitions, his dreams.

He screamed. This much was expected. But to those with ears attuned to misery and torment, it soon became clear what the scream was, and what it wasn't. It wasn't surrender. It was a battle cry. The Padawan charged ahead, arms waving in a frenzy, already clawing at her. Again her spell proved ineffective, but for different reasons than last. She was showing him hell. her calculations had not taken into account that he was already living it. And she was the only thing shining through all the horrors his captivity thus far had brought him. She was his way out.

Uh oh.

Their bodies collided. Now it was her turn to scream. Vaermina found herself tossed towards the ground, her side slammed hard against the cold, unforgiving floor. It didn't take long for him to be upon her. The weight of him was enough to knock the air out of her. There wasn't much planning going into his move. It was primal. She was down. Now he went in for the kill, striking at her with hands like daggers. Too bad she was the only one holding a real one.

Blood poured onto her. He grew heavier, and she still had not found the strength in her to push him off her. Retrieving the small blade from the stockings underneath her dress had been about all she had managed. She didn't really need to do much but hold it since then. He did the rest, by falling on her like he had done.

She had killed with her own hands, albeit in a slightly pathetic and not so magical way. Sometimes the practical solution was the best one. Regardless of how it had happened, an offer had been made to the both of them. Now only one was left capable of crawling back up to her feet, her black dress stained deep with the blood of her enemy.

Vaermina coughed, regaining her composure. There was blood on her face now too, but she was relatively certain it wasn't hers. "You said something about teaching?"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor watched them fight, never blinking.

Desperation dominated both combatants, each one knowing that in order to achieve their desires they would have to murder the other in cold blood. There was no strategy, no higher form of combat nor game of cunning that would lead to a single victor.

Only primal viciousness and instinct would pave the way to triumph.

And then, as quickly as it came, the battle was over. Blood oozed out across the polished marble beneath both of their bodies as the Jedi's body shuddered once and crumbled against the witch's smaller frame, only to push pushed away as the blood-slicked victor stood before the Emperor. With his task of blood and flesh completed, Carnifex rose from his seat and began his slow descent down the dais steps to stand just out of reach of the growing pool of blood at its base.

"You have done well, witch. Had your will faltered it would be you who was bleeding out on the floor instead of this pitiful Jedi, though it is a shame that I never experienced the pleasure of watching his hopes crumble to ash when his promises of freedom turned out to be nothing more than a lie." Truly, the Emperor of the Sith was cruel beyond measure. And if the young witch from Dathomir needed another reminder, the Emperor blew out a high-pitched deafening whistle and out bounded a massive black lion, a pair of horns bursting up from his brow like a wicked crown. The beast meandered over next to the Emperor, nuzzling at his hand before his nostrils flared as the smell of fresh blood hit his senses.

A gesture towards the still-warm corpse, "Talsasi, Barbas."

Gnashing teeth shredded the corpse within seconds, followed shortly by the grotesque sound of crunching bone and the ripping of flesh. Once the massive lion had eaten his fill, there would be little left of the broken Jedi left for carrion.

"Now then, let us discuss your training..."

[member="Vaermina"]​

 

[Vaermina]

Vaermina didn't feel any guilt. He was dead, she was not. She were given the keys to power he was not. The future was in her hands. It was far better than not having one. If she broke out a tear for everyone she screwed over on the way, she would not get very far at all. She had enough demons to deal with on her own. She did not need to add new faces to that list.

Instead of being chastised for the manner in which she won, she found herself praised. With that she drew a deep breath of relief. "There's always a next time, eh?" Please don't be today. Her reply came quick and natural, not allowing herself much time to reflect over the Emperor's dark desires.

She didn't have much time to reflect since then either. The high-pitched sound came as a surprise to Vaermina, and had her immediately covering up her ears and expressing sounds of discomfort. It was nothing, however, compared to her reaction at the sight of that massive beast making its way to its master's side.

Vaermina was visibly intimidated, taking many a step back to make sure she kept her distance, at least as well as she could given the circumstances. That was one kitty she was none too eager to start petting. Even as the lion gorged itself on her opponent, not sparing her any attention at all, she did not relax. Not one bit. She was covered in that guy's blood, and worried she would be next.

Suddenly she did not act as chatty and familiar with the Dark Lord of the Sith. It seemed he had made his point. Misbehave and be fed to the kitty

| [member="Darth Carnifex"] |​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor bade that the young witch follow him away from the throne room and into the auxiliary chambers that bordered it, of which many were simple antechambers designed as waiting chambers for dignitaries visiting the Emperor. However, some were outfitted for personal use by the Dark Lord himself and it was in those that Carnifex led the young [member="Vaermina"]. A pair of servants swarmed the young woman, cleaning the blood from her face and reliving her of any loose articles of clothing until she was completely naked.

Though she might protest and display some form of embarrassed modesty in the presence of a man such as the Emperor, he paid it little mind as he directed her to a fabricator built into the far wall.

It would scan and measure her every dimension, cataloging that information and utilizing it to construct a brand new outfit for the witch in the Sith style of casual tunics and trousers. After that was all said and done, the Emperor would finally pose a question that was typically given when two individuals met for the first time rather than after the traumatic trial that she had gone through.

"You never divulged your name to me, child. I would like to know it now."