So I'm Looking for a Mask[Completed]

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Moridin chuckled as the man spoke mostly out of amusement. It was always said that Sith Lord's were the most arrogant creatures in the entire galaxy, but in the past few months The Dreadlord had met many, many different creatures that had far more arrogance than he ever did. This Mandalorian seemed to be entirely on that side of the spectrum which actually didn't surprise him much. Mandalorians for all their claim to honor and righteousness were incredibly self obsessed.

No matter what era one was in this seemed to be a fact, they always called themselves the best warrior around. The Dreadlord smirked slightly at his line of thought, then he returned his gaze back to the Mandalorian. “Right, and I suppose you would refer to me by my proper title as well. Darth Moridin Dreadlord of Byss and Leader of the Pillar of Strength for the Sith Empire.”

Moridin chuckled again, but before the Mandalorian could answer The Dreadlord spoke again not actually caring about the formality of the situation at all. He didn't have much time for this as it already stood, he originally had planned to use the mask himself and pose as a new Mandalore, but with someone else already carrying the mask this would become much simpler.

“I don't care about the mask truthfully, I care about what it represents.” Moridin said being entirely forthcoming. “Tell me, do you know about the current state of your people?”

 

[Carbon]

"Well, Lord Mouthful.", and immediately Emberli established a dry sense of humor, "I don't know much. Your hired help woke me from my slumber. I assume if Sith are running around again that the plague is either gone or at the very least, in remission." Standing utterly still, the man let's out a bit of a sigh, clearly not wanting to talk to a Dark Sider. Then again, not many did.

"Let me guess, you want me to take things over and establish an alliance with you."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

“No.” Moridin said quite succinctly ignoring the other mans comments about his title or the plague and skipping straight to the heart of things. The Dreadlord looked at the Mandalorian for a few seconds peering at the man and assessing his strength. He was large, quite big and broad shouldered so probably strong. Was he intelligent though? Intelligence mattered just as much as as strength, not many people realized that.

For a minute or two he let his answer stick in the air while he thought this through. Yes this man seemed to be made of the right stuff. Finally the Dreadlord spoke again after what must have seemed like far too long. “I'm not interested in an alliance, a deal, or anything of the sort. What I want you to do is what Mandalorians do best. I want you to fight, to kill, and to destroy.”

Moridin looked at the man and tried to gauge his reaction through body language and the force. The man would probably ask a whole number of question regarding why the current Mandalorians couldn't do such a thing, and he had answers.

 

[Carbon]

"There's an advantage in there for you somewhere. What is it. What's the end goal of this violence? Galactic instability? Weakening of the borders of your enemies? Do you just want someone to draw people's attention away from your own goings-on? But you're Sith, that's too easy. That's basic manipulation."

The man folds his arms across his broad chest, the T-visor of his mask boring into Moridin in a way only a Mandalorian could manage. "So what's the real prize you seek?" His first thoughts were of the Mandalorian people, he just wasn't doing it directly. Em wanted to know what this man stood to gain, so he would know what his people stood to lose.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Moridin laughed, apparently this man was far smarter than he had first let on which made the Dreadlord very happy. He looked at the man for a few seconds, he couldn't share everything that would be entirely ludicrous. Sith Lords had to have some secrets after all, they couldn't just go about and tell everyone everything that would be entirely silly. No, he would have to tell the man a half truth, a lie wouldn't do he was too smart for that.

“Simple? Maybe, but I don't seek aid for the Sith. Nor do I seek to engross my own power base.” That was the truth, Moridin didn't care about the strength or the Sith or his own, he could care less for it all in fact. All he wanted, was to reach his one simple goal. “The Prize I seek is what all Darksider's crave, immortality.”

That was a lie, he was genuinely disinterested in immortality. He had already lived far longer than he cared to admit and living for another few centuries was a concept he found boring. However it was a believable lie, and one that Moridin made seem very genuine.

 

[Carbon]

The man waved a hand. "Cut the kriff. We both know that's a load of bantha dung." Folding his arms once more, Emberli shakes his head. "Us killing people won't give you immortality any more than me asking you for a straight answer will get me honesty. Doesn't mean I won't try though. Never know when a Sith will give you a straight answer just to throw you off."

Sighing a bit, the man quirks his lips under his helmet. He was still, curiously, mostly emotionally dead. "Either way, I believe we're done here. I've a culture to check on." Although Moridin had ignored Em's comment about the virus, Em could still go see for himself what had become of his culture; his homeworld.

In truth, despite the Sith being an annoyance, he'd already been able to glean some information from all of this. The Sith had hired someone to dig up artifacts. That meant that the galaxy was sufficiently safe enough for people to travel about for archaeological expeditions, even if it was a mercenary doing it.

Hell, even the presence of a mercenary spoke of a resurgent galactic economy. This was turning out to be far more productive than he'd originally thought.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Moridin frowned, it was not a scowl but pretty damn close. He couldn't have this man walk away just yet, at the very least he had to sow the seed, the thought into the mans mind. The Dreadlord twirled his finger and then closed his fist. The Blast doors that had already been closed but now one could hear heavy locks sliding into place, the door was sealed for now and nothing was getting out, at least not without a lot of effort.

“No. I'm going to edify you before you leave Mandalorian.” The Dreadlord voice had a slight hint of annoyance within it now, showing that within his arrogance also hid an extreme lack of patience. “And I say Mandalorian because as it stands right now, you are no longer your peoples Mandalore. The Darkside is a leech. It is a parasite, it feeds off of emotions, death, and the destruction of hope. All of these things come from the user...or when played right those around the user.”

This was entirely true, some Sith fed themselves to the darkside of the force. They allowed it to draw emotion from them and in reverse they gained power from it, many Sith had survived for eons this way, and some had even survived death. The most prominent was Darth Sion, a man that lived with all of his hate. Moridin knew this, and most other Sith did as well. What was rarer however, was a Sith surviving from the misery and destruction of others.

It was far more difficult to do, and somewhat dangerous. Moridin had done it before on Byss, it was how he had created this body it was how he had survived this long. That was however not his interest right now. What he wanted was far more...interesting.

“I intend to play it right. Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough when I said I wanted you to do what you do best. I want another Cathar. I want Alderaan. I want the death of trillions. That is how it will benefit me.” Moridin's smirk came back, the oh so telling smile of arrogance. “The Misery, The death, the absolute betrayal of Hope. With each Death you bring. I will grow into a longer life.”

Moridin stopped for a few seconds, next was the important part. “That is all I want from you. I want you to do what comes naturally. I want you to go out, and conquer, bring destruction on a massive scale just as your people once did. Do this, and I will help you regain your...well its not a throne is it?”

 

[Carbon]

"They teaching you Sith bigger words all of a sudden? Color me impressed." Thankfully, Em hadn't actually turned to leave just yet, and in not doing so, had forced the Sith into revealing another facet of his personality for later use... or avoidance. There was a faint welling of anger within him, but that was due to being locked in rather than not being Mandalore.

He'd expected the latter.

There was, however, a bark of a laugh at Moridin bringing up Cathar. "You Sith really are daft, aren't you. Cathar was revenge, little else. An example. It isn't something we made a habit of. History encompasses more than what you'd like to remember, Sith. Cathar was an exception, not a rule and it's not something we tend to be proud of, either."

His voice was a bit sharper now, actually taking on a true tone for once. "Any Mandalore who uses a throne is no leader of the people." Shaking his helmeted head, the man who looked curiously like Mandalore the Ultimate chuckled faintly. "But don't you worry. Death and destruction will come; and it will start with the Usurper. However, we Mandalorians don't deal in pipe dreams; I'll bide my time until I've a reason to strike. But when I do..."

Hand tightening into a fist, he nods slowly. "Heads will roll. Literally. But perhaps... perhaps there is something you can do to help me."

Emberli's hand reaches to his belt, from which he pulls what appeared to be a sword hilt - minus the blade. Hitting a button, a pitch black blade with white outline erupted from the handle in the shape of a vibroblade. "Teach me to use this."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Moridins eyebrow raised slightly as the man pulled out what was clearly a lightsaber hilt, his eyes slightly widened as the man ignited the blade and it turned out to be a Darksaber. What surprised him was that the weapon was still around, less so that the Mandalorian had it. For a few seconds he tried to recount the history of the weapon in his head. He knew that it had once been in the Jedi Temple, then it appeared during the Clone Wars, then after that a few people had had some in his time, although he was not sure if they had been the same weapon.

He remembered fighting several people who had had a Darksaber. The blade was not all that unique, it had an interesting look and sound but when it came to fighting it the weapon was exactly like any other lightsaber of its size. The Dreadlord looked at the weapon in the mans hands, and then to the man himself.

“And why in the name of all that is Sith...Would I want to do that?” It was actually quite funny that The Mandalorian would ask him to teach a blade. Moridin as it stood was perhaps the finest blademaster in the entire galaxy at this moment. He had stood toe to toe with the best of them nearly four hundred years ago, and now the best were dead leaving only him.

The other man had no way of knowing this of course, but it was the irony of the situation that tickled the Dreadlord. He couldn't actually see any harm in teaching the man to use a lightsaber, he would never be able to match up to Moridin himself, but there wasn't really anything in it for himself.

 

[Carbon]

This time, it was Emberli's turn to raise his brows in curiosity. The Dreadlord wasn't very intellectually quick today, it seemed. "You want me to kill right? I think we can both agree that making me more efficient at that only works in your favor." Emberli felt he was running mental circles around this Sith, but one could never be certain.

Dropping the blade so that the tip rested against the floor, Em ponders what the Sith might do. "Unless you'd rather I walk out of here without the ability to engage a Jedi blade to blade."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

“I highly doubt that you are incapable of killing a Jedi.” It was hard to tell if Moridin was complementing the man or trying to insult him, but the former seemed to be far more likely in this case. The Dreadlord sighed slightly and waved his hand in a slight show of submission, as if he had given up. Teaching the Mandalorian wouldn't harm him as he had already thought of, the man had a point when he said it would give im an edge over any Jedi he encountered.

The bringers of the light were arrogant as always in this century, he had already faced their grandmaster and that man seemed to think he was the end all be all of fighting. Having a Mandalorian out there who not only had a Darksaber, but could use one...well it could make some amusing moments to say the least.

Moridin smirked at that thought. A Jedi coming to a Mandalorian invasion, walking up with his lightsaber drawn and ready to fight against blasters and crushgaunts. Then he receives a Darksaber to the gullet. Of course the reverse could happen, the Mandalorians could choose to fight the Sith, and many apprentices could fall to the darksaber.

He thought for a few more seconds, then he remembered he didn't actually care about the Sith. “I'll teach you. But in exchange I want something else. I want a mask, like yours forged from Beskar. It doesn't have to look like the Mandalore's, just Mandalorian.”

 

[Carbon]

"So you want a mask like mine... that doesn't necessarily look like mine." There was a moment where he was likely giving Moridin a look as if to ask 'really', before he adds. "You Sith have always been an odd bunch." Pausing for a moment to consider, he nods. "You'll get your mask. And by the by, I never said I was incapable of killing a Jedi - just that I was incapable of engaging them with a lightsaber. Context; don't take things out of it."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Moridin's lips once again turned upwards into his now trademark smirk. A few hundred years ago he had no body for a while. Smiling then had been impossible, so now that he was whole the Dreadlord found himself actually smirking, grinning, and just using facial expressions to their fullest extent. Moridin smiled at the Mandalorian, and then with a wave of his hand called one of his lightsabers to his palm.

The Staff-sword swept up into his hand and the blade ignited almost instantly. The Deep orange glow erupted and lit up the room ever so slightly. For now only one half of the blade activated. If he was going to instruct this man, he was going to do it right. “Then let us begin....”

“That armor is lightsaber proof no?” Moridin said the last few words with a loud uproarious laugh.