Romancing A Dark Ritual

[Poe]

All across the held worlds of the Sith Ascendancy, the prisons began to fill up with enemies, traitors, and a few unlucky Jedi who had the misfortune to surrender rather than become one with the Force. The work of the Inquisitor was a busy, and sometimes a tedious one, that kept me on the hunt for our enemies, Those I felt to be our biggest threat met an horrifying death, dying slowly on a crooked tree as insects and other predators picked and gnawed at their exposed flesh whilst they screamed as they found themselves being eaten alive. For others, I personally consumed their blood and flesh. However, the prisons were swelling all to quickly like a bloated carcass, and a solution was needed to be discovered less mass executions became daily exercises.

Whilst standing in the tombs looking at my recent kills located in the bowels of the prison on Ord Biniir, where I ruled the planet like a God-Queen, a sadistic thought gently caressed my mind. Instead of wasting resources and time eradicating high profile prisoners, like Jedi who refused to succumb to the temptation of the Dark Side, I could ritualistically sacrifice them; and perhaps find something rewarding to entertain my mind. Problem was, conducting dark rituals, or any ritual really, was just out of the realm of my understanding. I dabbled in sorcery, but my focus was terror and haunts.

Leaving the putrid smells of the tombs behind, I walked up the spiraling staircase emerging back into the known world like a reanimated corpse breaking through the chains of burial. Where should I start? More importantly, who should I seek out? The Circle of Lords held a view of life different than that of my own; and the only reason I was allowed to continue my work was the positive results I brought them. Speaking to them would be moot regarding my topic.

Walking through the prison I found myself at a disadvantage. Surely someone could help me, teach me even about dark rituals. I possessed the product to be utilized, I just lacked the know-how. Discouraged, I returned to Bastion. Stepping into the Sith Temple, I began conducting my search. Unfortunately, the temple was riddled with Acolytes, Hopefuls, and Lords busy with teaching their Apprentices. Very few Knights haunted the temple. Most, including myself, left the temple after promotion to 'soul search' and forge their desired path as a Sith. Those Knights that did remain, wanted an Apprentice. I, unlike them, did not want one. I had enough burdens in my life to worry about if some wet-eared Acolyte was paying attention to my words.

Taking a seat on one of the benches in the temple's courtyard, I closed my eyes wondering if my solution was another problem to face.


[member="Vereshin"]

 

[Vereshin]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7chLk_VDl_Y​

The sorcerer held a stick of incense through the ebbing flame of a candle. Holding back his sleeve, Vereshin retracted his hand and watched the smoke rise from the conspicuous orange light of the end. Musk wavered calmly across the stone as he set it down in a holder. Hovering around the ritual table, he lit each candle after the next. The soft padding of feet entered the doorway and the hooded visage of a young Acolyte bowed before him.

"My Lord, the prisoners have been secured by Lady Satia." The child stood under the stone entrance and held his hands coyly against the front of his robes. As a sorcerer, Vereshin relied on the supply of traitors, Jedi and enemies of the Sith awaiting execution to use for his rituals. The Inquisitor Satia captured a new selection and word traveled quickly to the eager sorcerer.

"Where is she?" Vereshin uttered in a monotonous tone while he focused on the candles.

"The courtyard, m'lord." The Acolyte finished. Vereshin gripped the hem of his robes and followed him outside of the chamber.

Scaling the stairs, he entered the ground floor of the Bastion temple. Enormous warriors and arcane waifs pursued their dark deeds and Vereshin walked among them. Hands swaying limp beside the swish of his garments, he moved nonchalantly through the parting crowd and eyed Sith of his kin and those brandishing weapons and armour. He found Satia dreaming in the courtyard and stepped over the stone barrier to meet the grass with the pointed toes of his shoes.

Lowering his hood out of courtesy, Vereshin's eyes fell upon the dark huntress. Pallid skin, blood red lips and a lace dress, her snow-white hair framed her heavily made up eyes and invited him over. They shared similar taste in aesthetics alone and the sorcerer rested a hand against his diaphragm and bowed to the lady.

"Lady Satia, I have received word of the traitors and Jedi you have rounded up." Extending a hand, Vereshin offered for her to take it and stand. As Satia rose to greet him, the full portion of her height became apparent and he found himself swallowing a gulp and stepping backward. He had never seen a woman so tall, apart from the odd female warrior who he made a habit of avoiding. "If you would care to join me, I'm conducting a selection of rituals which would put them to good use." Vereshin finished and invited Satia to lead him to the waiting prisoners.

[member="Satia the Cruel"]